Originally Posted Monday, November 4, 2013
I've been looking around the internet for photographers whose work I used to adore. Most of them no longer have blogs opting for websites of their works instead. It is obvious that most of them ran out of steam and became disenchanted with what they had been doing. They tried to move on in some way whether it was technically or thematically. In almost all cases, that move produced less appealing work. And when the new work is less than the old work, even the old work begins to look suspect, I think. And then the crisis of confidence. Once the plaster cracks, others--people who once adored their work and encouraged them--begin to help them see the flaws. They must both envy and doubt what they once did/were capable of doing. They must surely doubt that they will ever be able to make good work again.
But the gentleman doth project too much.
Life is just too fucking temporal. Isn't that what heaven promises--atemporal existence? A steady state of permanence? Isn't it a freedom from the flux?
We will all be thirty-three in heaven.
Oh. . . and we will all be fully insured.
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