| What I write about is there to be sensed, to be felt.
I call myself an emotionalist. My need is to find the
simplest way to express my own feelings. To see things clearly, to shear off the complication.
I want my work to pass from my vision to a completely
open interpretation; to be reinterpreted by your life and
by your life's experiences.
As humans we all share the common emotions,
individually shaped by the life we've lived—
the good and the bad.
Life, sometimes so totally cherished and sometimes so completely hated, comes and passes in either utter
disharmony or total harmony, given how well we're
doing at that moment when things happen.
The crazy thing to me is order.
There is the order of traffic, and we are given tests and
granted license for the privilege of driving our cars.
The order of a fast food chain, the cue where solemnly
we line-up to buy our hamburgers and French fries. |
There is the order and ritual of church, state, schools,
our institutions that brag on their foundation of ethics.
We have formed time-honored, secret societies.
Humanity's efforts has been the creation of structure, order, ritual, society. And I know that society needs order. I know we must follow order and that there is a need of people to belong, to join. People swear oaths, memorize allegiances, pay dues and brag to others of their affiliations... we need to be accepted.
Beneath this– and in each of us– is the absurdity and
utter irrationality of where our minds take us. It is safe because no one can ever know our thoughts. And you know they come. And they are crazy. While waiting at a stop light, our minds might think of murder, destruction,
or as well of beauty and love.
Order tries to protects others from you and me, us from them. As an artist, as a writer and as a photographer, it is
my need to discover the individual or the scene
unmasked, and to then discover what lies beneath. I don't like it hidden. All this I'm sure sounds... well, I don't
know how it comes across to you.
But I do understand what this means to me. |
