Kodak Moments
8.31.06
I lie in bed at the end of the day, noshing on a perfect Pink Lady apple (imagine a yellow Delicious whose skin has been kissed by rose lipstick) and think how lucky I am to have this gift of time in life. I get to work at something I enjoy, raise my kids with a modicum of stress, play my music, dance (tonight, for some reason, I concquered the contra section of an alegrias that's been stumping me for a while) connect with friends and enjoy the end of a summer's evening on the front porch with a glass of wine and a loved one. It's a gift to have such balance on those days when I can find it and for which I am very grateful.
I realize that something has moved me recently to post pictures of myself and I have been wondering why. The writing ahs been a release of various energies and queries as well as a record of my various peronalities, an attempt to document these fleeting cerebral moments as if to prove I've been here. And now I think the photos too are an attempt to capture these moments in time which reflect how I would like to see myself and be seen. I've taken a gander at YouTube and Myspeace and others' blogs and see a panoply of personalities in search of an audience. A generation is growing up with this new way of connecting to others, known and unknown and I'm fascinated by what all this vertual intimacy really is about. When we turn the camera on ourselves to share something of who we are or believe we are, is it really as simple as a bid for attention in a world that passes us by too quickly and coldly? Or are we, in looking into these various mirrors trying to pay better attention to our selves?
At mid-life, with a body I've never had before and will never have again, it feels natural to want to freeze those moments when I feel most myself. IN joy, in play, at work, in love, in life. But there are, of course, those other times, in sadness, in loneliness, in anger, frustration, guilt, fear, shame or envy, those dark places which I would never think of capturing even though they are as much a part of my picture as the light.
Ye olde photo album rarely reflects our shadows, the unpleasant moemtns and if we look back over them, we could think our lives were pretty rosy after all, a series of accomplisments, milestones, parties, promotions, passages, pleasures. We could forget all the pain and ennui between the pages. Maybe this then is where all the self-disclosure comes in, trying to convince ourselves that life is truly a pretty picture (the result of our national individual pursuit of happiness) which is naive and not terrbily honest or inspirational. We snap the highs in life but forget that existance is impossible without the lows that provide relief.
The safety of the internet, though, allows the other motive for exposure which is to ask the world, are we okay, are you okay with me, when I reveal all this stuff? The warts along with the wry humor, the verbal stuttering along with the vivacity, the off-key warbling along with my wild and wavy hair? When so many of us live isolated lives, existances removed from some of our soul needs, it makes sense we might want to try on new masks, with few risks. And maybe, by letting it all hang out, we'll dare to find what feels right to try on in the real world: the would be rocker will start a band, the closeted chocolatier will open a shop, the repressed housewife will welcome her husband with a belly dance, the closeted gay gets to come out and play.
I've come to accept that cyberspace is here to stay. I just need a new set of maps, an astronaut suit, oxygen supply and sturdy tether to navigate. If you look up into the sky one night and see a raven haired dancer floating about, checking out the alien life, just wave. I'll be back soon. With my camera.
P.S. very frustrated with Blogger lately as I can't seem to post photos and realize that I have come to look forward to the search for an appropriate image to accompany my thoughts. we are such visual animals I realize.
I lie in bed at the end of the day, noshing on a perfect Pink Lady apple (imagine a yellow Delicious whose skin has been kissed by rose lipstick) and think how lucky I am to have this gift of time in life. I get to work at something I enjoy, raise my kids with a modicum of stress, play my music, dance (tonight, for some reason, I concquered the contra section of an alegrias that's been stumping me for a while) connect with friends and enjoy the end of a summer's evening on the front porch with a glass of wine and a loved one. It's a gift to have such balance on those days when I can find it and for which I am very grateful.
I realize that something has moved me recently to post pictures of myself and I have been wondering why. The writing ahs been a release of various energies and queries as well as a record of my various peronalities, an attempt to document these fleeting cerebral moments as if to prove I've been here. And now I think the photos too are an attempt to capture these moments in time which reflect how I would like to see myself and be seen. I've taken a gander at YouTube and Myspeace and others' blogs and see a panoply of personalities in search of an audience. A generation is growing up with this new way of connecting to others, known and unknown and I'm fascinated by what all this vertual intimacy really is about. When we turn the camera on ourselves to share something of who we are or believe we are, is it really as simple as a bid for attention in a world that passes us by too quickly and coldly? Or are we, in looking into these various mirrors trying to pay better attention to our selves?
At mid-life, with a body I've never had before and will never have again, it feels natural to want to freeze those moments when I feel most myself. IN joy, in play, at work, in love, in life. But there are, of course, those other times, in sadness, in loneliness, in anger, frustration, guilt, fear, shame or envy, those dark places which I would never think of capturing even though they are as much a part of my picture as the light.
Ye olde photo album rarely reflects our shadows, the unpleasant moemtns and if we look back over them, we could think our lives were pretty rosy after all, a series of accomplisments, milestones, parties, promotions, passages, pleasures. We could forget all the pain and ennui between the pages. Maybe this then is where all the self-disclosure comes in, trying to convince ourselves that life is truly a pretty picture (the result of our national individual pursuit of happiness) which is naive and not terrbily honest or inspirational. We snap the highs in life but forget that existance is impossible without the lows that provide relief.
The safety of the internet, though, allows the other motive for exposure which is to ask the world, are we okay, are you okay with me, when I reveal all this stuff? The warts along with the wry humor, the verbal stuttering along with the vivacity, the off-key warbling along with my wild and wavy hair? When so many of us live isolated lives, existances removed from some of our soul needs, it makes sense we might want to try on new masks, with few risks. And maybe, by letting it all hang out, we'll dare to find what feels right to try on in the real world: the would be rocker will start a band, the closeted chocolatier will open a shop, the repressed housewife will welcome her husband with a belly dance, the closeted gay gets to come out and play.
I've come to accept that cyberspace is here to stay. I just need a new set of maps, an astronaut suit, oxygen supply and sturdy tether to navigate. If you look up into the sky one night and see a raven haired dancer floating about, checking out the alien life, just wave. I'll be back soon. With my camera.
P.S. very frustrated with Blogger lately as I can't seem to post photos and realize that I have come to look forward to the search for an appropriate image to accompany my thoughts. we are such visual animals I realize.
posted by Barbery at 2:38 PM
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