Why I Take Pictures

Many years ago, I was talking with a loved one about her jerk of an ex-boyfriend (for the sake of anonymity, I'll call him Idiot).  After she went through a laundry list of all the awful things Idiot had done lately, I told her this:  "Idiot is an asshole.  Assholes act like assholes.  When Idiot acts like an asshole, it's not news.  If he ever doesn't act like an asshole, tell me about that, because that would be fascinating."

If it looks like a duck & quacks like a duck, it's probably not a poodle.

Lately, the USA has been acting like the USA.  The populace continues to ingest huge amounts of toxic food and sit around getting fatter.  Folks utilize their religious beliefs to justify hateful judgments against others.  People in great need of dictionaries refer to basic human compassion as "fascism."  Leaders don't follow through on their promises.  Money is valued more highly than life.  White people get away with killing black people while women are locked up for defending themselves against men.  And so on and so forth.  Although all of this is a total fucking bummer, unfortunately none of it is anything new.  It's America being America.  Or maybe it's humanity being humanity.  I don't know.  Either way, it sucks.

And it's also why I take pictures.  

Taking pictures helps keep me from becoming 100% cynical and despondent, because capturing images of our world reminds me about this piece of reality:  there is so much beauty around us, it's ridiculous.  Beauty is everywhere, from the reflections seen in a tiny drop of water to the endless cloudscapes we admire from aiplane windows.  

Since I started photographing my environs, I've begun looking at the world in a different way, noticing with fascination both the simplicity and intricacy of each little thing.  Instead of rushing towards destinations, I try to slow down and observe all the tiny details of what's around me.  When you look at your surroundings that way, even flies become cool.

And there are lessons to be found in these observations of beauty, simplicity and intricacy, such as:

The tiniest thing can be perfectly elegant

Even before blooming, one can achieve magnificence, and...

If a tree stump can be happy, then so can I.

I once wrote a screenplay featuring a depressed protagonist with an elderly mentor.  His mentor's advice to him was to work on counteracting his negative thoughts with positive ones.  For example, if he saw parents yelling at their kids in public, he made himself think about how much he loved the smell of garlic frying in butter.  If he heard a news story about a bloody coup going on somewhere in the world, he'd think about how much fun he used to have going to monster truck rallies with his siblings when he was a kid.  Stuff like that.  He didn't ignore the fact that terrible things were happening.  He simply allowed himself to remember that wonderful things happen, too.

I feel like my pictures help me do something similar.  When I find myself thinking about the hundreds of years of structural racism that have led this country to the place it is today, I'll ponder that for awhile, and then I'll let myself remember that sunsets happen every single day, and they are fucking gorgeous.

When I read about yet another species going extinct or waterway being irrevocably polluted, while many Americans are more interested in what's happening with Justin Bieber or the Royal baby's due date, I think about the fact that butterflies exist.

 
And when I saw pictures of George Zimmerman smiling upon hearing the jury's verdict, I remembered the time I saw a piece of ice in the shape of a hummingbird.

Things are bad.  It's true.  But they're not all bad.  Love, hope, generosity, compassion, joy, and courage are still with us.  Sure, they have to share space with fear, cowardice, hatred, greed, and other shitty stuff, but that doesn't negate their existence.  It only makes their persistence even more wonderful.

So, in conclusion...

 
Smile, folks.  One day you may get attacked by a pack of wild dogs, but on a different day an adorable dog may see fit to lick your eyeball.  And I mean that in a good way, of course.

It's Good to Have Goals

I have a new life goal, and that is to emulate the amazing, millimeter-long tardigrade. This fascinating little beast currently holds the title for Al's Favorite Creature.

"I'm gonna shoot you with my little tank nose."

Not only are tardigrades ridiculously cute, but they're also totally badass. As Wikipedia tells us: "Tardigrades can withstand temperatures from just above absolute zero to well above the boiling point of water, pressures about 6 times stronger than pressures found in the deepest ocean trenches, ionizing radiation at doses hundreds of times higher than would kill a person, and the vacuum of outer space. They can go without food or water for nearly 120 years, drying out to the point where they are 3% or less water, only to rehydrate, forage, and reproduce."  

Wow! WHAT THE FUCK?!?!

I don't think I'm the only person who is enamored of the tardigrade. In fact, I believe someone created the Ostrich Pillow in an attempt to make humans resemble the beloved creature.
 

Because really, why else would this thing exist?

If I had to sit next to this guy on a plane, I would laugh myself to death.

In lieu of being like a tardigrade, just in case that turns out to be impossible, I would like to emulate Special Agent Dale Cooper from Twin Peaks, in all of his classy, hilarious, clever, unflappable, free spirited glory.

Agent Cooper and I already have quite a bit in common. He's calm in a crisis. He loves nature. He's adventurous ("Harry, I have no idea where this will lead us, but I have a definite feeling it will be a place both wonderful and strange"). He understands the power of a good cup of coffee.

Agent Cooper regularly practices yoga, explaining the benefits like so: "The pain retreats to a cul-de-sac in a distant suburb of my conscious mind." I also practice yoga, and it just so happens that I grew up on a suburban cul-de-sac. Coincidence? I think not!  I'm telling you, we're practically twins already. We even use the same earplugs. ("Diane, it's 6:42 a.m. Rough sleep. Dreamt I was eating a large, tasteless gumdrop. I awoke to realize I was aggressively munching on one of my air pillow silicone earplugs. Hence the tastelessness.")

Best earplugs ever.  Not so good for eating, though.

(Just as an aside...Agent Cooper's gumdrop dream reminds me of a dream my friend had right after she got her wisdom teeth out. She dreamt she was eating a giant bowl of garlic mashed potatoes, then awoke to discover the post-surgery gauze halfway down her throat.)

Agent Cooper has taught me many things through his overt awesomeness. For example, he taught me what to say in the face of praise, which is something that has always been a challenge for me: "I am honored beyond my ability to express myself." Perfect!

I adore Dale Cooper.

But not this much.

My first step towards meeting this goal is to find my own version of Agent Cooper's Diane. I already have a wonderful friend named Diane, but I very much doubt that she would want to listen to endless recordings of my daily activities (e.g., "Diane, I am now upside down"). Maybe I'll start recording all of my thoughts and observations, anyway, and just pretend that I have a Diane who's listening and responding to them. I think I'll call my Diane "Jacques." 

"Jacques, I have just returned from walking the dogs. It's a hot one today. Remind me to tell you about the one-eyed squirrel that observed our passage from the high branches of a Douglas Fir. I am quite certain it was trying to tell me something. Many thanks for sending the Grand Marnier-filled bonbons as requested in my last communication."

How random is this??

So yes, between the two options, I think it would probably be easier to model myself after Dale Cooper, rather than a minuscule polyextremophile. However, I plan to forgo the get-possessed-by-an-evil-entity-and-smash-my-head-into-a-mirror part of emulating Agent Cooper. Because that wouldn't be very cool at all.