As I was drinking my morning coffee and contemplating a conversation I had with Radiant Idol, I realized that one of the reasons I've been concentrating on narrative imagery is because I want to make a series of anti-rape photos, narrative work depicting the stories of the women I've loved. I've been practicing the skill with a subconscious agenda. This is why my current move to more abstract photography has felt like a kind of betrayal of self.
It's a thin line between creating images that depict the horrors I've spent so much of my life listening to, and images that might seem to glorify such acts. I know that an artist has no control over viewer reaction, but I don't like the idea that I might create something that would wake dormant monsters. I fear I don't have the skill to properly express my intent. I tend to have a lot of images-concepts that never see the light of day, but this is more of a long-term goal, a thing to work towards, with the usual risk of never feeling good enough. Which, then? Try before I'm ready or wait for adequate proficiency? Either way, I'll have to wait until the current class is over.
In other news, Zig and her new guy will be coming to Chicago to stay with me for a week, sometime soon. Z & I have been trying to talk things out ahead of time, because we're both so worried that it'll turn into a total disaster. It's a touchy subject, and I find myself intentionally taking the stuff she emails in the worst way possible. I tell myself that I'm doing it to get any potential danger out of the way now, before they show up, but maybe I'm just being snippy because I'm convinced it WILL go badly. I've lost all contact with Christine and Roo, and pretty much every other girl I've ever dated. I know there are people in this world who manage to stay friends with their ex-lovers, but I've never been one. The cynic in me can't believe we've managed to stay friends this long.
*sigh* I abuse her interest in keeping this friendship. One part of me thinks that I have that right, as the dump-ee I get to complain about her choice whenever I feel like, even though I know it was the best choice for both of us. The other part tells me to grow up, and be a man. The conflict is just one more sign that I'm not half the Hindu I want to be, and never have been. If I was, I wouldn't snap at her like this. If I was, I wouldn't constantly be telling RI how much I adore her, want to be with her (Truth be told, I've been a bit worried that I'm artificially strengthening my attachment to RI in the face of Zig's impending arrival. Stupid, stupid boy tricks. I don't think it's true, but the thought remains). A proper Hindu would be able to simply enjoy these turmoils, accept himself for who he is and how he reacts, and still do the right thing in the end.
Comfortingly Bouncy came over for a photo shoot on Sunday, and I still have both rolls of film in my pocket. I carry them like a talisman, proof that at the very least, I'll have friends who will listen to me bitch after Zig & Zan leave.
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