So you may be wondering, “Wow, Frankih, you friggin posted something? Why now, you lazy jerk?”
And there’s really no answer to that. I’ve been pretty badly creatively blocked for about a year now. Maybe a little longer than that. And I guess today it just sort of hit me that the only way to deal with that was to start creating things again, no matter how badly they sucked. (I mean, I knew this as a theory. Deciding to put theory into practice was a whole new revelation.)
Is this a new photo? No. This is from New York City, when I was last there in 2011. It’s not a great photo, particularly. It’s not a great scan. The photo is, however, part of the small collection that forms a “headboard” on my bed. The collection is all of pictures I took when I felt such overwhelming love for the universe. I can also recall, while taking a lot of the photographs, a feeling of nearly-infinite potential. The photos are also quite old - from two years old in the most recent ones to about six years old in others.
The world can drag me down sometimes. I doubt what I can do, I doubt who I am, I doubt what I want. Some days, I crawl into bed and cry. Other days, I don’t get out of bed at all. I’m not alone in that.
And I don’t think I’m alone in deciding that I am not going to let the world beat me, either.
I don’t know how much of that made sense. The final point is this: I’m very tired of judging myself for not getting out of my pyjamas when I don’t have to. I’m very tired of worrying so much about the finished product that I hardly pick up a camera or pen.
So I’m just going to fucking do it already. I will add to the makeshift headboard, and I will stop living so much in the past.