“Its deplorable that they died this way, simply because their lord held them dear. This is an old custom, but there’s no reason to adhere to convention if it causes them harm.”
Emperor Suinin (fourth century Japan) in response to the custom of burying the attendants alive along with the deceased.on the death of someone from the emperor’s family. After listening to them weep and moan for several days until their death at his brothers funeral he began the custom of using Haniwa, pottery sculptures created to represent the loyal attendants to be buried with the family member in the place of real attendants..
The east entrance to Yasukuni Jinja with its aggressive and dominating stone torii sets the feeling for a visit.
For 3 1/2 years I was involved with care for my mother who suffered a stroke, memory loss and expressive aphasia., while she lived through memory care, an operation with two months of rehab and another memory care facility.
I would visit her in the evenings and after dinner maybe walk around outside or visit in her room. It `was interesting to experience this kind of a relationship with my mother. I wonder how much can we know somebody?
Think of how you view yourself, and think how others view you and compare.—The1 latter is a measure of objective you can be.
I was there during physical therapy.
At first she was fed in bed, later moved to an eating room for people who needed or may need help of any sort. She did not know, and usually did not care, where she was., I tried to understand what her mind was like when I was there.
She never gave up.
That is one reason we chose a memory care facility—so mom would have an opportunity to develop new relationships with other people. .I think it worked, even though the relationships with fellow residents and professional caregivers might seem a little strange, it gave her challenging things to do.
She was called Lynn , or Rosamonde, depending on your relationship with her. and Rosy by her high school classmates.
This was in Union Square, Somerville, about 1972. Lynn is a city up the tracks by train from Somerville.
I don’t make much difference between the people and the wall, the house and trees, its all color, lines, shape, gestures, textures, values . . .
A mother and son, they ride everyday. Over the years I have seen him grow up on his bike rides.
People find meanings when they see a photograph, a meaning related to their experiences.
In general people think and feel that a photograph is an image made using ligh compatible to the human eye . A photograph is an acceptable form of legal identification . . . That is what it REALly looks like.
The photographic print itself has a certain unique characteristic feel to it . . a feel consistent from any photograph to another . ..
A person sees a photograph, they immediately and unconsciously, feel and define it is a photograph, and unconsciously, give it the category and qualities of a photograph— one of which is this is what it really looks like.
Like a wood block print or an etching. the photographic print has a unique look and feel all its own.These photographs look different than “reality’ and still feel like a photograph.
The term “graphic arts” traditionally refers to a process which produces multiple identical images, which are printed
A photograph is an image made from capturing reflected light and that“ captured light”, whether on film or digital can be used to make multiple identical images
In this computer era, to most people “graphic” means a visual image and it may be original, one of kind art. Someone may say “Look at the “cute graphic“ to refer to a visual image printed or to a cute drawing hanging on the wall.
In a marketing meeting, someone suggests “some kind of graphic” would be good for the package. or on the ad. Another may say “Can we do this graphically” meaning not an image which will be used to reproduce a same identical image but a visual to communicate something.
This may seem like a minor difference,—in its traditional use graphic refers to a process which is used to create multiple identical images; in the other its the image itself that is called the graphic , even if its one of kind and not printed.
Humans will see an image and give it properties as defined by their mind. This is how learning a language gives people a common unity by giving them a common set of words with shared meanings —it would be a mess if each individual had to create their own language and then every time they “talked” to others had to learn a different language in order to communicate. Humans are social, they do not and cannot exist as individuals and it it is this quality of “socialness” of humans that separates them other living things.
A photograph is a real image of something— “see a photograph, what is “it.” It is the mind that tells you what you see and it is this process of mindful interpretation that unites human language,
That is why my photographs are not concerned with a common reality. Rather than a visual record of a specific moment between the past and present, these images emphasize implied visual information such as textures, patterns, lines, color—the photograph is separate from a common reality, maybe searching for what cannot be seen in the common reality.
Its still an image made from recording light and even though it still feels like a photograph, there is no reason to wonder “What is it? ”. . . there is know more than what you see.
For some years I wondered about this boy, now a man, sitting on the sidewalk along Market Street, smoking a cigarette, wearing a red hoodie and has his own plastic lighter. When I look at some of my images, they feel intrusive of someone’s personal privacy, maybe so, Where many people view a photograph as a visual record of a moment in time for me they seem to be stories of myself.
When I see what people do, how they behave, who they are—I see a reflection of myself —
We are the other people
We are the other people.
You are the other people too.
Got to get through to you.
Lyrics by Frank Zappa
A breakfast burrito on the street at the intersection of Montgomery and Marke
I make images of myself because I am a convenient model, available whenever I feel like it, and free.
Speaking lightly, who am I? teasingly confronted visually,
Once I make the original light image I can manipulate it to seek out who I am or seek sides of myself not available in a mirror,
That’s when I ask, “Is this my life?, and even when I am outside and alone looking in, I can breath “Mu!!.” Where is my original face.
Is there more to life than arranging the fruit correctly?
Gate gate paragate parasamgate Bodhi Svaha