Friday, February 11, 2011
Monday, January 10, 2011
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Philosophy Reading Response #1; John Dewey and 'Individualism'
The Ventriloquist’s Sermon
There is an odd bifurcation in American society between what we state as our beliefs and what we actually practice. We have constructed around us a monied society, where “to the victor belong the spoils”. In
We are currently experiencing this uniquely American cognitive dissonance while debating universal healthcare. On one hand, as a primarily Christian society, we claim that we should help those who cannot help themselves, by taking care of the poor, the elderly and sick. In truth though, we resist any changes to the current system, citing arguments that a change would not only take away from the bottom line of major (and highly profitable) corporations, but that any modification would also allow unemployed freeloaders (or worse yet, illegal immigrants) to have an advantage that gainfully employed Americans should be privy to alone.
Monday, January 3, 2011
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Meta Meta Camp
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Statement for My Final
~Artist Statement~
The forever-asked question; “What is a photograph?” Is it simply an image? Is it nothing more than a pattern of light and shadow? Is it life or a representation of life? Is it some kind of conceptual treasure map? Is it just ink on a page or data in a series? Most will say that a photograph is all of these things and more.
So, the question then becomes instead… “What is a photograph to me?”
The great secret of my life is that I am truly a broken person. I am the fracture personified. I am manic-depressive. I have brutally long bouts with insomnia. I am constantly disappointed with my own incoherent and chaotic thought structures, with my lack of desires and ambitions. I am awkward with people and tend to burn my bridges all too frequently.
The only thing that keeps my incessant and rambling thoughts at bay is photography. When my hand is on the camera, when I allow myself to be actually aware, I suddenly navigate within the landscape as though it were a dance. I glide forward and back. I twist this way and that. I quietly hum to myself as I go though the computations of angles and compositions. Then CLICK! I have it. It is mine. I go home. I download, modify and, if I am happy with the results, I publish. Only then am I able to fall asleep easily.
So, once more I ask, what is a photograph to me? And the answer is: a photograph the key to my sanity.
My mind is a parking garage, empty in the dead of night. Everything within has become insoluble, abstract. I have become the husk of something that was once useful, but now consists of nothing more than dull slabs of concrete, accidentally leaked oil and sickly-yellow fluorescent lights.
I have no family to speak of. I have no money in the bank. I have no home that matters. I have no person to love. But, I do have a camera.
And that makes all the difference in the world.