Processing Things and Such

 Once again, this potentially beautiful town has forsaken me.  I rarely ask anyone if they want to shoot, primarily because I got sick of dealing with people being so terrified of it.  I've been explaining for years that you don't have to be anything other than you.  If there wasn't something there worth shooting, I wouldn't want to shoot you, and all I do is want to shoot, so figure it out.

 I'm not looking for anything extraordinary; I can make that.  I can not, however, make people appear before my camera, regardless of the beautiful things I could accomplish with them, not to mention even getting anyone to understand how simple and uncomplicated this whole process is.  So, in my frustration, I continue to shoot boring shit that is so readily available to anyone with eyes, half a brain, and time to kill. 

 Never has nature been so terrified to just be and be documented.  It is truly a shame that such a beautiful aspect of nature has been conditioned to be so silly about being itself.  

 I continue to sit here, in my confusion, exhausted from my continual attempts to explain very basic, creative common sense.

You don't get it, though, and you most likely never will, which is fine.  It is what it is.  Well, let me put it this way: I don't like shooting flowers and birds; hate it, in fact; I don't enjoy photos that anyone takes of these, or similar subjects, because there is little to no art in it; they've always been there and it isn't difficult to catch them.

 I would much rather see a photograph of the photographer who took them, because I appreciate the human aspect of nature; nature is nice to be in, but documenting it is like doing the same math problems over and over again in elementary school: I fucking get it.  The complexities of the human emotional set and the depths of the human soul are so much more interesting... to me, anyway... apparently just to me and a select few, because the average person seems to be perfectly content with the mundane boring shit.

 How do you capture a natural aspect of nature that is conditioned to believe that it isn't beautiful enough to be a work of art?  One thing that has been a constant frustration over the course of my life in this potentially beautiful little mountain town, is that it never even came close to its potential.  I see beautiful people everywhere who have no idea how beautiful they are.  

Wait.

 I keep forgetting to factor in that most people probably just don't like me, or are afraid of me.  Fuck.  Once again I have fallen back into that comfortable creative mindset, where I simply do not understand why everyone wouldn't want to be a work of art.  Realistically, most regularly reduce themselves to far less than art for people that they like.  So where do I fit in there?  Hmm.

I wonder why I can't get anyone to go out and shoot?

 You wonder why I'm usually in a shitty mood?  It's probably because the potential beauty that I see, which is basically everything, doesn't like me.

Nothing likes me.

If that weren't true, then we'd be out shooting every day.

How's that for math, Don?

 At the end of the day, these boring uneventful days, this is supposed to be an art community, one which preaches openness and spirituality, but I am yet to really find any of those things, aside from very select, tiny pockets, for annoyingly brief amounts of time.  I shouldn't have to look under rocks to find works of art in a spiritual, open, art community.

I found a waterfall.


You missed it.


You probably know of better places.


Why don't you take me there?

Duh.

 Tonight my girl was sent a photo from my mom of my first daughter, quickly approaching 17, in her prom dress, on her way to obvious event.


I received zero photos, and was asked to take even less.


I didn't even know that was happening.

Tonight I was sent home early and happen to meet up with my girls on the way out, so I found a rare opportunity to enjoy a few of the beers I made, babe in arms, with this beautiful soul that I get to live my life with, in this amazing place that is set to be my life, surrounded by potentially beautiful things.


If only lAvaNyamaya meant "consisting entirely of potential beauty."