Tuesday, August 28, 2007

~Untitled 19 by Comrade Kevin~

I shyly entered the cool surroundings of the coffee bar and in long practiced habit took a seat to the right of the speaker. I'm a creature of habit and inevitably sit at the same table for every event.

I make a point to arrive early in order to take in my surroundings without the distractions of other people. I prefer to ease into crowds--feeling the energy of each person as he or she arrives, files in silently, and adds his or her own unique flavor to the proceedings.

My companion was in the process of securing some new esoteric blend of tea while I settled in with my camera. I'm a bit of a purist. Despite the ease of digital technology, I prefer the messiness of film. There's something very organic about the process that reminds me to take my time and not rush. I find it ironic that the very warmth of celluloid film is in its fuzzy imperfection. Digital may be faster, easier, and more precise but I much prefer the old standard.

I catch the first performer rehearsing sotto voice for the crowd. I'm using a very fast film tonight--the slightest tremor in my hands and the result will be blurry and out of focus.

As usual, I feel a case of sarcasm brewing deep inside me. I can only attribute this to some deep insecurity within myself. You see, I wish I were the one up there reading in front of the crowd. Every introvert wishes for the courage to face the adoring masses. Instead, I have to capture other peoples' bold behavior, trying to live vicariously through their expressions.

It's an ideal art form for someone as shy as I am. I make my photographs like my dreams quiet, uncluttered, simplistic, to the point, and calm. Above all, calm.

***Bravo Comrade. Lovely. You've been here before.***

2 comments:

Sharon Hurlbut said...

Belles-Lettres

Dear N––, this is the note I left beside the pillow while you were sleeping somewhere else. These were some of the words, in no particular order: sarcasm, breast, level playing field, honor, succulent.

If you stopped your mouth for a moment, and made her hold her laughter, you’d hear the way my breath followed the rhythm of the pencil as I wrote. As usual, you’re too busy with your own soft noises. Her hands may be smoother than mine, but they will never know what I have known, that the first time you held another woman you cried because the self is hard to love.

And my dear, dear N––, if I stopped writing this note, I wonder if you would even notice. My breast, my honor, my self: all yours, if you could read.

Comrade Kevin said...

I shyly entered the cool surroundings of the coffee bar and in long practiced habit took a seat to the right of the speaker. I'm a creature of habit and inevitably sit at the same table for every event.

I make a point to arrive early in order to take in my surroundings without the distractions of other people. I prefer to ease into crowds--feeling the energy of each person as he or she arrives, files in silently, and adds his or her own unique flavor to the proceedings.

My companion was in the process of securing some new esoteric blend of tea while I settled in with my camera. I'm a bit of a purist. Despite the ease of digital technology, I prefer the messiness of film. There's something very organic about the process that reminds me to take my time and not rush. I find it ironic that the very warmth of celluloid film is in its fuzzy imperfection. Digital may be faster, easier, and more precise but I much prefer the old standard.

I catch the first performer rehearsing sotto voice for the crowd. I'm using a very fast film tonight--the slightest tremor in my hands and the result will be blurry and out of focus.

As usual, I feel a case of sarcasm brewing deep inside me. I can only attribute this to some deep insecurity within myself. You see, I wish I were the one up there reading in front of the crowd. Every introvert wishes for the courage to face the adoring masses. Instead, I have to capture other peoples' bold behavior, trying to live vicariously through their expressions.

It's an ideal art form for someone as shy as I am. I make my photographs like my dreams quiet, uncluttered, simplistic, to the point, and calm. Above all, calm.