Runcible Blog

amnesia through photography

Saturday night Nate and I saw The Duo and Critters Buggin at the Paradise (Nate's pictures. I have some crappy ones to scan). It's actually hard to remember what the show sounded like (except that I was able to download the recording from etree). Without fail, whenever I have a camera in front of my face, I'm almost guaranteed not to remember what I'm seeing through the lens or hearing from the speakers against my ear. It's kind of disappointing -- I try to record what I see on film but fail to transfer the experience to my brain. And it's not just concerts, it's any event.

My camera is a pacifier. When I'm at a picture-worthy event without a camera, I feel antsy and incomplete. A camera around my neck gives me purpose, a mission beyond idle spectating. Some people take a friend to the movies; I take a camera.

Maybe the weirdest part is that I pass up far too many shots even though I'm seemingly prepared. Why do I bother carrying 20lbs of stuff around if I hardly use it? I often drive around at night looking for opportunities but rarely find them. (hmm, maybe I should walk rather than drive)

I think what I'm writing sounds disjointed because I'm not sure how to explain what I feel. Sometimes I think my only function, my natural state is to record what I see (hopefully in order to make some difference). But most of the time I think I'm an unimaginative hack with no original ideas. Can passion compensate for creativity? I doubt it.

A book I just bought, Truth Needs No Ally has a chapter of questions one should ask oneself before pursuing photojournalism. Personally, I find a lot of encouragement when the author "warns" that the job is low paying, hard work, and time consuming. When he advises newbies to be prepared to have no life, no time for relationships, I think, "Where do I start?!" The way I see it, the fact that most reasonable people aren't going to want to invest (or risk) their lives for such a thankless career must greatly reduce the pool of job applicants. I could be wrong though.

I hope that when I finally make some kind of decent portfolio instead of a mish-mash of artsy fartsy crap dedication will take me the rest of the way. And I hope that comes sooner rather than later. Every month, every year that I'm not doing something meaningful is time thrown away. Especially recently, I feel like I'm getting old with nothing to show for it -- without positively affecting anyone's life. The world is full of mediocre, meandering 20-somethings. I don't want to join them.



momentary lapse of memory

The other day I bumped into a classmate from Central, Aaron Canney. Unfortunately I couldn't remember his name and stood there straining my brain for a minute. More embarrassing was that he said "Dave St.Germain!" when he saw me. After I clearly couldn't remember, he told me.

Even though we talked for about a minute, that lapse in memory stuck with me for the rest of the day. I'm usually oddly able to remember obscure events or people. I remember a lot of strangers if I see them more than once. It's weird. But I couldn't even remember the name of someone with whom I made a health class video about heroin! how frustrating.

So, I apologize in advance to anyone I have forgotten or might someday forget.


No Doubt About It

Well, it's official: President Bush won the debate and will win the rest of the debates. After all, 9 out of 10 conservative pundits can't be wrong, right?

The post-debate coverage seems more intense than the actual debate. It's a race for the talking heads to define who "won" and how much of a bounce one candidate or the other would receive. The victor is the side that talks the longest and the loudest.

For once I'd like to see the debate moderator say, "Thank you, and goodnight. Make up your own mind." and don't cut back to any pundits. Maybe as a compromise we can let the pundits write some newspaper columns, but I think the hours of TV commentary are way too excessive.


brrrrrrrr

I was freezing my farging icehole off last night! What is this, winter?! I got up at 6:30 to find another blanket, bumbling around in my mess. Since the blanket was covered in dust and/or shards of glass, I got something stuck in my eye. I spent the next few minutes trying to extricate the offending bibbit before getting up for the day and stumbling down the stairs.

Off to a great start.