Wind Art and Desperation - October 24, 2005

Yet another night I can't take photographs. More pissing rain.

And after maybe seven or eight consecutive night shot sessions -- none of them recently -- I guess I'm starting to miss just snapping a photo with the camera in my hands. The tripod has been fantastic, and has taught me how to pay more attention to composition. But I'm longing to just see something and then just feel my way into the photo. With the tripod at night, everything is so deliberate. Even the exposures themselves can take minutes. It's completely different and is bringing out the engineer in me rather than the artist.

I've had enough of the engineer for a while.

And also: I look back over my photographs of the past month or so, and all I see is night. The days are getting shorter, and I'd like to browse through photos of daylight.

Man, it's going to be a long fucking winter. I'm hoping for a pretty one. Or at least photogenic...


All I listen to these days is Elliot Smith. I just can't stop. And I seem to never get sick of it. I find it freakishly appropriate that he did the closing song (a Beatles cover) for American Beauty. I didn't know much about the guy when I first saw the movie. And it's hard to put my finger on why I think the sensibility of Elliot Smith is so similar to that of American Beauty. Is it because I simply subconsciously associate the two because he's on that soundtrack? I don't think so. Or would I even feel this way if it weren't for the fact that he killed himself?

The more I think about it, I suspect that's it. I think him having done what he did -- which was what? killing himself by stabbing himself in the heart of all things -- that act! -- couldn't help but color all his art.