keeping track
New faces.
New spaces.
There's a world ahead
of the one I've just left behind.
A world unseen by the eyes I know.
The cycle will do just as it's named.
The circle will grow.
Endlessly.
New faces.
New spaces
won't replace what I know;
won't deny new love to grow.
Old memories transcend and new meaning ensues.
New meanings ensure old memory.
The cycle will do just as it's named.
The circle will grow.
Unclaimed.
The above diddy is from a scrap of paper I wrote on while at JFK, leaving for a study abroad program in Spain.
It was early February 2003 and I was sad to leave my boyfriend, my family, my friends...I also had a general phobia of meeting new people. Carving myself a pedestal amidst contemporaries was not a strength. I preferred, and continue to prefer, the understanding that comes with a slow burn. Unfortunately for me, that's not how it works when you're twenty-one. I imagine I was trying to convince myself that all would be well with the world, or at least my world.
I found this gem, among others, in my opportunistic attempt to clear the clutter before my move across town. There were some winners and due reminders that I have been and continue to be well loved.
Despite the expansive collection of paper memories, there were few that really brought me back to 'who I was' at a given time. There I was, sitting on the floor with a lap full of dusty paper, getting obsessed with my failure to keep track of myself. In my frenzy to 'remember myself', I regretted not keeping a journal. But, I've never been one for journaling. It's always seemed like too much effort; to articulate the nuances of thinking, the subtleties of emotion. Eeek. Plus, I'm a Gemini-- inconsistencies are the name of the game.
Designing a tattoo for my friend...during Andalucian History class.
My 15 year old English student took me to a Japanese-style photo booth. These girls were professional.
The pieces that sparked the most visceral time-travel were concert stubs, mix tapes and mix CDs. I don't think give music enough credit as a historical indicator. Musicians are documenting the pulse of culture through sound and language. And they cover a lot of ground because really, they say just as much with what they don't say as with what they do say. I will take this into consideration, starting...now.
Check out my musical coolness:
(not pictured: Hootie and the Blowfish, Paula Cole, Michelle Shocked, John Prine, Cowboy Junkies, G-Love and Special Sauce, Third Eye Blind...I don't know where all those stubs went!)
In my afternoon of striving to keep track, I lost many hours, remembered more than a few warm memories and have come away with the general sentiment that it's best to keep moving. It may momentarily validate your horrible poetry or your embarrassing blog entry, and it may allow you to say, "look how far I've come"...but let's be honest-- You will learn something new today, and in that process, you'll step off of the point you were at yesterday. The world will be different and so will you. The crazy thing is that you probably won't notice this change. The phenomena is tragic in it's subtlety. But more importantly, isn't is essential? If I were truly successful in 'keeping track', I would surely be crippled by the sticky clouds of nostalgia.
...sometimes the aura of a memory is just more helpful than reliving the whole darn thing.
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Ani's Photo Blog
I had a crazy professor in college
that published books...lots of books, and refused to capitalize any
letters. She felt it was one of the many internalized
processes of "othering" that were practiced by educated human
beings. Exclusion and isolation led to power, discrimination and division.
The final paper I wrote for that class was published. I'll let you draw
your own conclusions.
The best way to describe my relationship with photography at that time was true, blinding love. I had confidence
that I could blur the lines of duality with a single photographic experience;
assurance that I would join the ranks of photographers who change how
people see. In short, I was going to revolutionize communication...and
I would drive it with the power of love. So it stands to reason
that this final paper would extract a small photographic property and
make it explode with purpose.
It is the human propensity for monochromatic
thinking that waters the roots of "othering".
Boy, I was really proud of that conclusion. I guess things like this lose a bit of their University flare when they're not tucked safely inside university walls. The point is, as my contextual knowledge of photographs grew, I developed a strong affinity for joining the non-joinable in all manner of subjects. Do non-sequiturs really hold water?! Don't our brains have a mind of their own? If you aren't convinced, hang out with a toddler for the day and you will know this as fact.
Photographs are a secret passage into all kinds of relationships. They are nostalgic and prophetic at the same time and I think that is so cool.
I like vacationing here. Maybe you will too...
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