Why do we put plants in little pots, water them, watch them progress from day to day? You can’t eat them. They’re not useful.
And why do we take photographs? To capture a moment that’s lost?
Seduced by the new and digital, we keep clicking more and more, mediocrity clogging our hard drive that we’ll never look at. Take enough shots and you’ll soon get some good ones though. You don’t even have to compose on location as you can crop your images at the keyboard and Photoshop and subvert them at will.
Now they can't be sure if my spectacular rainbow across Ayer’s Rock is real or a fake. Nor will they ever experience that spine-chilling moment when in the African twilight an eagle flew across the face of the moon.
Then I ask myself why do I write things like this? Why and for whom? Trying perhaps to capture a moment or a passing thought before it’s lost? Will anyone read it or deign to comment?
I enjoy writing even though you can’t eat it, though it has no possible utility. It’s what it is, just fleeting shadows, creatures of the day, playing momentarily across a sunlit wall.
2 comments:
My dear friend, I have asked many times to myself why I keep doing such things also. So many pictures, so many writings... At least you publish them; I just keep them sometimes. But by letting others read them, you help learning others from your experience, you share a bit of your life, and even if it is only for a few moments, I have the feeling that I have a friend. Your colorful pictures come to this side of the world (Japan) in a cloudy and otherwise sad day. Seeing the color of your daily life cheers up, and I think that is, at least, a very good purpose of your art. Thanks!
Thank you so much.
And your beautiful comments enliven my day too.
Writing is a lonely business and how nice it is to learn that something I have posted is appreciated.
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