Emerging

[vaneramos]

Now that the tale of Dad's ordeal has been told, hopefully finished for a while, I feel averse to public expression. This is an old, disturbing pattern. Fortunately this particular coil of life's spiral is not accompanied by any considerable depression or general withdrawal from social life.

Solitude is my comfort zone. It shouldn't surprise me. Let this passage take me wherever and teach whatever it will. I try not to worry, try to remember to allow myself time, but never allow as much as I need.

This week, Edmund Blair Bolles at Babel's Dawn addresses the chicken-or-egg paradox about whether individual minds or social groups evolve first.

When groups don’t form laws, it is impossible for group members to follow them or benefit from them. Similarly it is the language-speaking group that makes the individual poet or story-teller possible.

Someone once said: if you write poetry and have an audience, you are a poet. I surmise the converse: without an audience no one is a poet. Or a photographer, for that matter.

During these periods, I lose interest in taking photographs. I don't want to show, only to see. The vision must sometimes turn inward for a spell.

On the other hand, it must not stay there. So I nudge my expressions outward, without bullying.

And the camera is back from vacation. These images were taken February 8, the first time I took Dad home from the hospital. An exquisite dusk drew me outdoors, down to the beach. I went to watch the sunset, then noticed moonrise at the other end. These images were taken a few steps and moments apart. They seem to have everything to do with what's happening here, but I can't explain it.

Comments

[inishglora.livejournal.com]

If I may, I'd like to suggest a possibility for this wondering: They seem to have everything to do with what's happening here, but I can't explain it.

Sunset and pre-dawn are in-between times, neither day nor night. Like beaches and bogs (land and water) and mists (air and water), they are neither one thing nor another. Maybe you're in-between, right now.

[vaneramos.livejournal.com]

I should have said more accurately, "I am reticent to explain it." ;-)

But you have put the magic into words pretty well. Also, the passages of sun and moon speak of cycles. Life spirals continually back to matters we thought we had understood and finished, only to discover we still have more to learn.

[eloquentwthrage.livejournal.com]

Amazing shots. Thanks! And hugs...

[missprune.livejournal.com]

I think one can be a poet without an audience... Beautiful photo, specially that first one is awesome.

[threestarblue.livejournal.com]

when i glanced quickly at your tags solitude and health formed Stealth so maybe that's a better way to think of your alone time. :)

and i have to say that a an artist of any kind does not need an audience to be what they are. a true artist does it for them self.

[vaneramos.livejournal.com]

Thanks, and hugs back!

[vaneramos.livejournal.com]

Thank you, I wish I could have illustrated all the shades of sky between the two.

[vaneramos.livejournal.com]

Interesting points. People do art for a multitude of reasons. While I agree that some do not need an audience, I don't think the last phrase is fair: "a true artist does it for them self." Private art is good and important, but neither better nor more important than art that communicates. One of the cardinal rules of writing is, "Write with your audience in mind," and those who neglect it are in peril of writing poorly. The same rule could be applied differently to other art forms.

[bezigebij.livejournal.com]

I recognize much of what you say in this post, and inparticular that "old distubing pattern".

[tbone1961.livejournal.com]

I absolutely love that first one. Of course, they're both excellent shots. You reminded me of a Carrie Underwood song, that says something to the effect..." I drove until the sun and moon were together."

[vaneramos.livejournal.com]

I wish it didn't terrify me so much. I would rather learn to follow my inclinations.

[vaneramos.livejournal.com]

That's a beautiful line. I wish I could show you the whole sky that evening, how east blended into west.