Freedom form a curse

What is this? Cussing you out one moment. An apology comes from your lips and my visage changes? Your gentle wisp of word decanting my anger so easily? But you were wrong for sure...

...you just don't remember that it was you, and neither do I...because I "needed" you.

I saw what we call poetry in motion this morning, something that reminded me of myself.

My son's last day of Kindergarten, little big man.

I saw the beauty that lies beneath our chronic sociological ambiguity. The touch of freedom gives us so much to ponder and not do. So little to not possess but remain stuck. I guess this is the gift we give as "the free".

He was another that liked to stop and take the time to smell the people.

And what comes up from this primordial ooze that we base our species upon. If not for magic, I'm sure I've discovered our existence, while full of good photographs, would be in a word...wordless.

And this substance? A man to another that brings us close? This glue, or binding method that procures a sense of connection to another human. Needless or not, we walk through this life needing. Constantly getting what we want and wanting more and more. It's what carries us from one good picture to the other as one goes through our good memory albums with giggles and smiles. It's the product of "want". The gift to enjoy the after party of "wanting".

But in between these is where our humanity lies, the "need", who takes photos of that? When our wall paper, latent with the experience of the choosing it out becomes to us shallow cell walls of an emotional prison. Who is tossing us bread and giving us water? Not only tossing but feeding it to us by hand. Cupping our chin between forefinger and thumb and pouring the water in. Brushing our hair from the sides of our faces to our ears, for what? To get a better picture of the desolation? Distrust would say to chime in for bargain tokens later in life when they fall on their ass as well, but is this the motivation?

Do you feel this? Have you ever been under the executioners axe with a fellow man's name on the death warrant and not your own? To place on the altar your dreams and ambitions in exchange for a loaf of bread that you will not partake of for it is not sacred to you. Is this human? Or "divine"? The connection, the glue or what substance that starts as dust, adding compassion and various mixers of pain is what provides what should be the answer and definition to human condition. As well as being the thing that binds us together for periods of life.

How Lovely when it grows. The invisible flower of a deed unnoticed. The imaginary stem of a rose that gets no praise. And all the more, if some should notice, if praise or notice come they should vanish as quickly as the concept of Utopian society in the mind of an imperialist.

This gluing. The patch forming left "untagged". The patience to wait in between the lines to take these pictures of lonely trips to the next wanting satisfied. These moments are precious! They are worth nothing, yet cost EVERYTHING!

These photographers of "need", they exist on a plain of reality that not everyone is immune to. And it's not an inoculation that keeps you there, or even safe from it's toxicity. They are born immune. Every human ventures there from time to time with borrowed cameras to pay respects, but these live there. They Love there. And fill every breath with the poison of souls pain. As do I, and love every minute of Love.

Welcome us but do not thank. Crutch on us silently but do not give praise. For with gifts our gifts are removed and our magic exposed. Do not be like us unless you have died yourself for there are no living among us. It's why we are such fantastic photographers. Our after parties are pictures. The pictures you put in front of your friends so they can see and agree you're "ok" after you have satisfied your "want" for the moment.

We'll always "not" be there. Our photos, none will never see. And our promise is...you will never have "need".

I Love Love Love you all (..yes you), "remember" AAF-