Windows on the soul
2003-Mar-13, Thursday 02:09 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ssurgulI was rewatching Angel, Season 1 tonight. It IS amazingly entertaining and dark and broody and bleak. And of course Angel is just as hot as ever. And can I just mention that the demon monster guy is fairly hot, too, though a trifle large for my desires.
However in the episode (Expecting), there was an interesting concept raised that made me think.
(DANGER: paraphrasing ahead!) Just part of the insecurities. I'm not really living. I'm the one behind the lens. I'm just capturing life, not really living it.
We think in images. We dream in allegory. We speak in allusion. What makes it so unthinkable that documenting life in the images and stills that strike us most, that make us think about life, that connect to our core. Those pieces of life that sing to us. Everyone I've spoken to has them, those sights that truly just resonate to some part of themselves, oddly. And, even more oddly some of those things. For me, it's the view out of a 20th floor hotel or highrise (since I really don't like heights), but looking down a corridor of concrete and steel and glass. It can just take my breath away in a positive way.
Regardless. I find it interesting that photographers can occasionally become so enmeshed in the art itself that they can lose sight of what I consider, and seemingly the rest of the world considers to be the point of it all. To bring the imagery back that touched them, to share it, so that it too can bring that same enlightenment to another's heart, touch them that same way, or at least to make it available for such.
However in the episode (Expecting), there was an interesting concept raised that made me think.
(DANGER: paraphrasing ahead!) Just part of the insecurities. I'm not really living. I'm the one behind the lens. I'm just capturing life, not really living it.
We think in images. We dream in allegory. We speak in allusion. What makes it so unthinkable that documenting life in the images and stills that strike us most, that make us think about life, that connect to our core. Those pieces of life that sing to us. Everyone I've spoken to has them, those sights that truly just resonate to some part of themselves, oddly. And, even more oddly some of those things. For me, it's the view out of a 20th floor hotel or highrise (since I really don't like heights), but looking down a corridor of concrete and steel and glass. It can just take my breath away in a positive way.
Regardless. I find it interesting that photographers can occasionally become so enmeshed in the art itself that they can lose sight of what I consider, and seemingly the rest of the world considers to be the point of it all. To bring the imagery back that touched them, to share it, so that it too can bring that same enlightenment to another's heart, touch them that same way, or at least to make it available for such.