Still; I’m not even sure what that means. I do know that I’ve spent a lifetime reconciling myself to the fact that I’m not, and won’t be today or tomorrow or anytime soon. I simply can’t find peace in my own elusive ideal.
I try to own, take on, many things when photographing. I’m patient. I’m curious. I’m vulnerable. I’m touched. I hurt. I need. I love, but in that same heart, I’m never still. I instead work on being here—being present. In that ideal I can live—can be. I can remain open to the idea of connecting, finding peace in shared moment between a stranger, a friend, … a lover. I often fall short, but in my willingness to stay open, present, I connect. I lay waist to the chaos in my head, in my heart and bring a sense of comfort that, if magic happens, a photo and split second are shared. It’s only in that moment when my human expectations cease in another and I’m able to accept gratefully without regret what is given. In that moment, it’s not stillness I seek, it’s a connection, it’s one less moment alone, giving many returned moments together captured in a photograph.
My call to photograph does not come from any sense of seeking stillness, but rather in my need for in that painful, but even more so loving togetherness. It doesn’t quiet any voices in my head or slow my perception of this world, but in that split second capture I stop rejecting others and instead seek and hold them…forever.