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.