Monday, November 8, 2010

Monday, November 8, 2010
I've been reading a bit more about The Mexican Suitcase. One of the photos in particular is quite interesting to me. Within the series I've linked to here, it is the second photograph.

Considering the meta-meta, it is perfectly reasonable that I'm most drawn to the photograph that shows the photographers themselves, long before any battlefield was to be seen. How can I not help but be envious? They both look so young and alive, Taro and Capa. It is Paris. Glasses are on the table, waiting to be replaced. The sunshine was bright enough that day to make Gerda squint when she laughs.

Gerda... Can't you just imagine taking her hand in yours, walking along with her down some random, hidden Parisian back alley-way? Can't you help but ponder what it would be like to suddenly draw her close, kiss her neck and make her flash that smile, even as she gently pulls away from you? Even more so knowing that she was killed less than a few years later, after being run over by a tank in a friendly-fire accident. When I see this photo, I just want to reach into the frame, lift her out and bring into this world, get down on one knee, propose to her straight away and then hand her an extra dry martini.

Based on no information and just a few suitcase photos, it's impossible to make anything like an accurate judgement, but seeing this picture also makes it difficult for me to believe that Capa faked his iconic 'Falling Soldier'. Something about the wrinkles near his eyes, I think. Those kind of wrinkles usually inhabit the features of someone who has either laughed too much in their life or has wept a bit too often. Either way, to me they do not look like the wrinkles of an impostor. I fully realize, of course, that this is ridiculous logic. And recent evidence seems to counter my foolproof "wrinkle-theory", so he probably did fake the photograph, but I'm not too overly concerned. Unless there are other suitcases though, we will likely never know for certain anyway, which I find to be wonderful.

For every second that arrives and passes, the world becomes a mystery, over and over. And humans are inherently metamorphic creatures. Over time, some parts of us become calcified and brittle, while other parts are worn down through humility and suffering. Who is to say, definitively, what a person is or was? We might begin our lives as innocents, only to realize ourselves later as a villain, but then repent, so as to end our time here a Saint.

Capa's later photos were amazing and accurate, so what the Hell? I'll give him one freebie.

Regardless, I really should start wearing a tie each day.


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