Small puddles and Big characters

These are the only photos I've taken recently that made me think of the beautiful in the ugly (besides the dozens I've posted of the freeway fence). I was just going to do the one, but Alec is famous for his "people" photography and so, in that spirit, you also get this one of me, taken on a cool day in the cabin in my hoodie.

My favorite photographer, Alec Soth, was on the front page of the paper Sunday. Not the "Sunday Life" section that is devoted to books, music, art and entertainment, but the Front Page. I guess he’s now the most sought after American photographer, the equivalent, the article said, to “an art rock star.” I was beaming with pride over having discovered him before he was all the rage, and felt as if I knew him when. His studio is just a bit up from where we had our coffee shop, and…gosh…it must be five years ago now when I wanted to use one of his photographs in a presentation I was giving and actually exchanged e-mails with him. He was so gracious.

I felt such a thrill of discovery and delight to find him in the first place and then again to see him on my front page. And that’s before I read the article, which reminded me of what drew me to him in the first place, which was a previous article and the words he spoke as much as his art.

I wasn’t having the greatest day when I found this article. I’ve been feeling so stuck in a puddle and as if I want to be swimming in a bigger pond. Actually, I seem to go back and forth – looking at the small things in my own back yard as if they are amazingly beautiful and significant – and then pining over feeling fenced in. In other words, it’s not all about the broader picture, but sometimes capturing the small picture, like the small truths, takes you toward bigger stories and finds you wanting to spread your wings.

And then you read about a guy you feel you kind of know.

I saw him give a talk at the Walker Art Center about five years ago, and he set my whole vision of how I wanted to give talks in a new direction because I’d seen something that excited me. I’d seen this way that you get out of “teaching” by simply talking about your process, which for me, with him, was like listening to somebody tell what it was like to climb the mountain from his own experience. I was so utterly fascinated and inspired!

Here’s two of the things I remember from that previous encounter with him. He talked about finding “the beauty in ugliness” and about “the isolation we’re sharing.” Can’t you just see why I’d love him?

What he says in this article about photography itself (which seemed to have little to do with the previous article I read or the talk he gave), was again speaking to me.

“Photography is the opposite of living in the moment. It’s trying to preserve, capture a moment. The act of doing it can be like that, but there’s something desperate about wanting to hold it, and there’s something about being in the world but out of it simultaneously. It’s a big psychological disorder. If I’m good at it, it’s because I can really sink my teeth into that disorder. It suits my character.”

Then he says, “But I’m not proud of that – I’d much rather be a yoga master.”

It’s kind of a joke, but I felt as if I “got” it. Most of the creative stuff I do feels like a psychological disorder. I got (at least in my own way) everything he was saying, and that’s one of the best experiences of life to a person of my character.

A final quote that also resonates with me is this: “I’m interested in weaving an arc – giving things shape and meaning and making connections. Giving people a place to imagine things.”

Oh, yes, yes. What a lovely man. How glad I am to live in that same world…because I do, I really do. In our own small-puddle ways, don’t we all?

St. Paul Pioneer Press, “Art Sensation,” Amy Carlson Gustafson, 10A, 9-12-2010.