Been thinking about online vs offline recently, and the strange shift in childhood that the new networks have brought in.
I remember being bored and leafing through comics, of jumping matchbox cars off drainpipe ramps. All these things happen today, of course. They just get videos and put on Facebook, by parents who wish they weren't on Facebook.
I've been wondering why certain people long for a return to the war mentality, the stiff upper lip, the us vs them mindset of last century, when so many of them never saw the war.
They never saw it, but literally grew out of it. I understand this now that I grow up. We are nostalgic for the earliest years of our lives - really, the lives of our parents, bringing us into the world. These earliest memories attract us like flies precisely because they are so dim and vague. They haunt us like an echo reaching us as we wake up from a dream. They are simpler days because we were simpler minds, and no other reason.
Here was a February full of photos
Recently I've been re-connecting with my aesthetic, drawing on Moriyami as a source, trying to link back to something less boring. The grit and grain of Moriyami goes a long way to summing up my taopunk
notion; the monochrome images distill everything back to a black/white/yin/yang simplicity, and the seemingly rushed or rash results move me back towards a spirit of life, often lost in the process of framing and filtering.
As I look back over February, I wonder what the link between grain and nostalgia also is. All photography has an essence of the past and of recollection/re-creation to it, even if we weren't personally there at the time. A photo is only a semantic step away from nostalgia then. A sense of longing.
Have a good weekend.