YESTERDAY:
Sigmund Freud famously said, “Insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.”
I’m sure it’s not as simple as that, but . . . One of the big problems with homo sapiens brain is that it’s wired for repetition, wired to like (and do) the things we already like (and agree with) and to reject ideas that take us out of our comfort zone. In other words, we’re wired to do the same things over and over.
Of course all animal species use/need repetition: repetition of migratory patterns, courtship rituals, food gathering, etc., etc. But once you add consciousness into that mix, well . . . that’s when you get insanity.
So if you agree that repetition is Human Nature, and that we want things to get “better”, we’re all, according to Freud, insane. (And I include myself, just ask Cindy, she’ll tell you how often I repeat myself. Yessiree. I do. Repeat myself.)
“Hey!,” I hear you say, “isn’t this supposed to be a photography blog? I didn’t come here to read some half-baked Freudian shit. And who are you calling insane, anyway?
I don’t know.
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TODAY:
Okay, I got this far, slept on it, woke up and thought: Fuck it.
Fuck it, I’m sick of talking about politics, tired of writing about photography at large. Maybe I’m depressed, I don’t know. But right here, right now, I’m sick and tired.
Tired of repeating myself, tired of banging the same drum over and over. Sick of knowing that nothing, in the large scheme of things, is going to change. Human Nature has led us to this point and Human Nature will lead us, again and again, to the same point. Over and over. Until eventually we will approach the final cliff and, guess what? Over.
I’m tired of all the sycophantic photography I see and keep seeing. Flat, repetitious, cautious, formulaic, boring. A pass time for the wielders of the cameras. (Guess we’ve gotta do something while we wait . . .)
I’m sick of photographers who repeat and repeat and repeat, then write new artist statements to attach new meaning to the same old thing.
I’m tired of all the bullshit our gravity attracts. We’re covered by it, aren’t we? Sick of thunder with no rain. Squeeze and release, we’ve had the squeeze, where’s the release? Tired of the pontificators pontificating. What difference does it make?
Sure, there are bright points . . . photographers who don’t rest on their laurels. Photographers who are forging their own, new, paths. Photographers who are unsatisfied but continue to strive, to question.
Despite (or because of) all this I work away. Trying to make some sense, trying to learn, trying to be new and brave.
Trying. It’s trying.
