I have a day job as a writer, but like many creatives, I have a pretty big crush on photography. Below are a few select pictures that I'm particularly fond of from a storytelling perspective—so naturally, I had to tell a story to accompany them. In retrospect, they all tell a similar story. But hey, don't we all?
Without forcing too much of an opinion on you, I would like to at least give you the names and some context of these two photos, since I am fairly fond of them as a pair.
I present to you, Noire Birthday Party and The Perception of Substance, respectively. The prompt here was to "photograph loneliness," so keep that in mind when you view them as part of the set called Through the Lens of Denial. For the imagery in this diptych, I really wanted to combine iconography of things that shouldn't really go together, but work together in context of each other. Before I get carried away in explaining everything too much (they say the mark of a good storyteller is to leave your audience wanting more), I'll leave you with a final thought: what happens when your psyche refuses to reconcile your actions with your morals?
There is no good music. Likewise, there is no bad music. Something that has always fascinated me is how we often prepend “guilty” to “pleasure,” as if we are constantly on trial over the things that we enjoy. It is as if each person has a prescribed veneer of personality, and any transparency in that veneer is cause for great shock and awe.
Curiously, we perceive ourselves through the viewfinders of other people’s cameras, and when something unusual slips into our composure, we find it necessary to be apologetic about it. There are things that we simply can not fathom telegramming to people—instead opting to whisper it to a select few whom we feel will have the softest swing of a gavel.
"Qual diavolo ti tocca?"
Is there a correct way to admire something? In my short time as a child, and my shorter time as an adult, I have been told many times that the way I was enjoying a certain thing was wrong. In the eyes of some, it is blasphemous to enjoy anything except in the specific way that they advocate. If I had accepted thirty coins from the Sanhedrin, I would have been berated for using the wrong color coin purse.
Is the man who watches deriving less joy than the man who plays? Who is to say? I like my peanut butter and jelly sandwiches best without the crunchy bits of peanut in them. And it's perfectly okay for you to like them without crust.