My Personal Anti GAS Medication
Once upon a time I was outrageosly rich. I owned two unending photographic territories. One was my newly born baby, the other political photojournalism. About the first one no words are needed. The other made me feel some minutes ahead of History. Both together rocketed me to the sky.
A decade ago I suffered a rather serious road accident, making me loose the photojournalist venture, and hyndering the other too. My lawyer told me once that upon that kind of accidents he has seen two types of human reactions. You either survive, or sink. I started sinking until a mermaid found me down there. She tryied to lift me up, without success, the only thing she could do was keeping me alive, by mouth to mouth inhalaton.
Down there I roamed around without direction, looking at the photographic world as a kind of bright light you see from the bottom of the sea when you look upwards. I was afraid, and became addicted. GAS adicted. From auction to auction I drunk myself to death. Though from time to time I had some touristic "photo op"s, their rarity made them vanish in my eyes. I accumulated gear for some half a dozen working pros.
Last week, between kiss and kiss, I had a feeling the mermaid has been trying to tell me something I didn't caught among so much confusion: 'start organizing your galleries'.
I think I will follow it, and in fact already started this weekend. There is some sense in it. Organize my past tense from the present, looking for the future.
I think that according to my free time plus my hardware, its going to take me a year of work. Scanning, editing, filing, etc. and printing, 15 years of photography. Who knows, perhaps I may discover a new territory to live in, or re-discover other accessible aspects of old ones.
But for sure, no more time for GAS.
Last edited by ruben : 06-04-2006 at 05:24.