Memory, Documentation, and the Camera

My camera is not a tool to offend. It is not something that I use to get into one's face, or to prove something to anyone else. It is, however, a tool to document things, places, and faces in the world. It is a tool to grab memories so accurately and so tightly that we will never, theoretically, lose that image from our time here. The camera exists in quite a beautiful light in the spectrum of the universe, pun intended. This bundle of aluminum, rubber, steel, computer chips, and plastic just so happens to be one of the most powerful items in the history of man kind. It doesn't lie, unless you tell it to, which most don't, unless we are selling something or someone. That is why it of course also plays such a big role in art. Art is exposed, open in a way in which the artist provides a portal to walk through so that one can see into a new truthful extension of human beings. At the same time art is revealing this and itself, it provides avenue to broaden the spectrum of thought. The beauty of the camera is that it has the ability to expose itself in this way while at the same time exposing, or capturing, you and anything else in the world in the most accurate light.

Recently my grandfather passed. This was a man that I had known for twenty five years. I knew his look, as it really never changed. I will never forget his smell, Old Spice Original, that he so powerfully emitted after his shower. My brother and I will forever reminisce on the fact that he would always smell our hair after our baths as children. He claimed that was the way he knew that we were clean. When he passed away I immediately knew that I did not want to forget his death. I have all of my memories and pictures from growing up in his arms during the summers, and allowing him to throw me in the air during Christmas. I will always remember visiting him for even just a couple of hours during his final days, just to cheer him up a bit and see him laugh. Just like those gems, I never wanted to forget the silent grasp of death. I never want to forget what it felt like to stand over him at the funeral letting him go.

So on my drive out to East Texas with my brother in the car, after picking him up from his flight in from L.A. I called my aunt and grandmother, his wife and child. I asked them if it would offend them or anyone in the family if I took photos at the viewing, with no one else around of course unless they requested to be in the room. They said that they would love for me to do so, because they understood that someone needed to capture the moment of this man leaving forever. That quiet fleet of life, as silent as death may be, is the most flooring and leveling mystery of life. So I used the tool that I know how to use. I used the tool that could expose that silence while at the same time grabbing a hold of it for memory's sake. My camera is not a tool to offend or harm anyone. Please do recognize though that it is a weapon of beauty, truth, and timeless measure, though it can be used for distortion and short lived pleasure. It's not an eye into true reality so much as it is an eye of the reality of the shooter. May I take your picture?