The Waiting Room
“I was probably pretty stupid to take a picture of the waiting room of a sub-rural panopticon. That Sheriff’s office is paranoid, like most Sheriff’s offices. I can just explain to them. If, in reviewing the footage of the pretty girl eating an apple in the hall, or holding The Gideon Bible in the waiting room, reading Proverbs for about 20 seconds, they decide that it’s odd that I took a picture of the waiting room…I can explain to them that it’s art. I can tell them that it was all about sterility and composition.”
I have found that lately I have been wanting to take more cloud pictures. I’m sure that some psychiatrist would call that an “early warning sign.”
It’s no such thing. It’s actually exactly what I need to be doing.
Do you know why?
Because it makes me happy and I find it beautiful and fascinating.
More importantly, aside from it being an art process that I enjoy, I think it is important. The theory that drives my perception actually makes a fair amount of sense to me and it supports my believe in a magical world that is alive.
I am aware that I’ve not quite spelled out my theory in any sort of formal (or even consistently coherent) manner. I am okay with that.
I trust that I have made a significant enough footprint in google searches regarding “god and clouds,” “god in the clouds,” “god and electricity” and “proof of god” that eventually someone will buy me a better camera to take pictures of clouds with.
I really think that, at some point, someone is going to see what I have been trying to say and they will understand. They will see the forms and the distance between forms and the shape of the spaces in between and they will think it’s pretty fuckin’ cool that I tried to read the clouds and that, feeling my way through it, I came up with a story that makes sense to me.
I do not take intensive pictures of clouds on a regular basis. It is an artform and a practice that has the potential to be all consuming and overwhelming, because the sky is so big and constantly present. Additionally, as with any intensive art, it has the potential to preclude other activities such as laundry and compulsory social or economic engagements.
Not all lives can accommodate a self-directed singular attention and focus.
At this point, several years in, I’d say that I am committed to continuing to document cloudforms and muse about manifest currents, consciousness, communication and theories of vocation.
This is an easy commitment to make, because I love the sky.
My limitations are not your failures.
My limitations should not be seen as failures to you.
I do not exist to meet your expectations.
I did not choose to live by your rules or to be gauged by your measures.
I will not deny my own needs and preferences to be the person you want me to be, or that you imagine I should be.
I do not expect you to live in the ways that I prefer, nor should you impose your preferences upon me.
My preferences are not your choice.
They are mine.