For the past year, a thought fogs my mind: why do I not enjoy photography as much as I had before (Jan 2010, when I just returned to Carleton from Kenya)?
In my attempts to answer this question, I came up with many hypotheses-
-when I was at home, I thought I was just a complacent observer, cushioned by the comforts of home
-when I was in Australia, I thought I was searching for things that are not there-- epiphanies on life and development that so easily found everywhere I looked in Africa.
-when I was back at Carleton, I thought I was bored from taking the same kinds of shots, in the same kinds of settings, from the same angles, with the same camera settings.
Well, I am throwing another speculation into the mix-- may be it is not photography that I am good at, but seeing things when I am in different places; here, I don't refer to places in spatial terms, but rather, places that challenge the mental space, places where presuppositions are questioned, places people's perspectives (originating from a different coordinate) intersect with my own.
That's where I am attentive, observant, creative, inspired.
This thought seem to settle my puzzle on my fatigued vision behind the camera lenses for the last year. But for how long?
Thursday, July 7, 2011
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