I’m not sure what it was exactly, but I at least remember the DART Photographie blog. Those pictures were beautiful. They made me believe there was a richness to the most mundane of things. That anything could be made beautiful and meaningful. I told myself that I would go on this similar search for the extraordinary and keep it. I would protect it. I wanted to do the same as this photographer was doing. Capture beauty. That was one of the main motivations behind my buying an extremely good camera.
And now I feel I’ve kind of died inside. It seems I don’t believe this beauty is there. Or finally it seems like I don’t feel like looking for it anymore. I guess what I’m saying is that it takes work to find beauty. It might be there right in front of you, but it won’t necessarily jump out at you.
I remember thinking that I would go out to parties, or get togethers, and I’d have this passion to really get something out of it; out of the people, their faces, the light. Something deep. I’m still convinced that it’s there. But it seems I don’t want to do the hard work. And maybe every good deed comes from hard work; a kind of fight; a determination to prove that life is meaningful; that things aren’t just bland and repetitive.
One thing I know is that I’m hungry for this sense of meaning; this sense of deep knowing of each other; this sense that we’re living.
Being true, judgmental, sensible and serious. Saying “this is beautiful”, or seeing how something that is almost there could be beautiful.
What I’m implying is that there is a laziness I seem (I’d like to say “we all” but I’d like to think I should start with myself first) to fall for. I get satisfied with less, somewhat. I don’t care to dig much deeper; to make something beautiful; to believe in it even if right now it doesn’t seem like much (I would call this ‘faith’). To be passionate, inspired.
When I bought my camera I remember feeling happy that I got one really good camera. For me it meant that there would be no limit to my imagination. I would be able to go and make something incredibly meaningful to me even if it was just with colors. But it seems I don’t want to make things meaningful. I fear I’d look a bit crazy. Thus, I guess we are crazy when we believe in something. I’d like to be crazy for a good while.