It’s been a while since my last post. Given what’s been going on, there should have been a post every couple of hours. That itself, in a curious way, explains why there have been no posts for ten days.
And, even now, it’s not about photographs. But it is about the same two people I had mentioned, in my previous post. Not to mention, there is some photography involved. My artist friend and I, have had many conversations about a muse. Philosophical, practical, even commercial. That one word, as it works in art, has been a constant source of intrigue.
I recently took a photo. (I care little about the nuances of using the word click or make a photo or capture an image.) That’s for the writers, when they want to project a simple act as something that has multiple dimensions. I prefer take or took because that’s, what I think, photographers do. It’s already there; we just take it.
When I took this photograph, I was captivated, more, by how these two people: Amit and Sagar, would see this photograph. Somewhere, deep inside, I felt they would enjoy it (Seriously, no compulsion, guys). The photograph in itself is perhaps mediocre, a bad one, or perhaps the best, ever. It matters less. What matters, for me, (and that’s what happened in that moment) is that I imagined that it would mean something to someone. The joy, when my finger met the shutter was double-fold: one, of the act itself (I liked what I saw) and two, the future joy that someone; someone specific, would not just appreciate it, but relate to it.
Creation is incomplete without joy. It does not matter, if the joy is personal, shared, or public.
Here’s a spiral staircase, when I was far away from home, thinking of my friends.
In that one, very small instance, I was with them; they were with me. It was a moment of joy.
Sagar, Thank you. I continue to question why I take photographs. I am not necessarily in a comfortable space. Yet, I like the questioning.
Thank you for planting the seed.