“The spirit is that in us which participates. It moves alone, like air or fire, and it moves with the body, lifting the body’s earth and water into gesture and connection, into love.”
– Mark Doty, Cold Dark Deep and Absolutely Clear
This is what I am talking about in the post below. By so obsessively recording memories, even as I live them, I am not somehow not fully participating in them. I am curating, not experiencing. My spirit doesn’t participate very often. There are people (very few, and they know who they are) with whom it does, and certain experiences (with those people), but it is rare. Mostly I am slightly removed, a step away.
Maybe this is not a failing, though, but simply a way of being in the world. When my spirit is really engaged it can feel so raw as to be on the verge of painful. Maybe my role as photographer, my instinctive way of being slightly outside all the time, is just a way of mediating a self that, when fully present, is powerful and porous. I am grateful to those who shepherd that part of me out into the open, who inspire me to such presence. But maybe I just can’t live that way all the time. And maybe there is nothing wrong with that.
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