John BehmJeff, you couldn’t be more on-target (particularly about chocolate tuxes!! 😉 ) What you speak of approaches the dilemna faced by artists: to try to capitalize on the fashion of the moment?, or to strive to transcend ephemeral questions to achieve something which endures, irrespective of passing tastes, fashions, trends.
It sometimes galls, of course, to see the opportunists of trends prosper, as they often seem to do, while we struggle on. When you keep on making your work, cleaving to your vision despite the lean times, this is the mark of the artist – so I’ve always understood (or am I just rationalizing my own history 😉 ).
It is entertaining to watch as years roll round and suddenly, surprisingly (hah! ), one’s work in synch with the moment’s tastes again. Even a stopped clock tells the right time twice a day, though we may know that we are telling the truth – our truth – all day long.
How we came to this perspective – to hope to transcend – who can tell? Imbibed with our mother’s milk perhaps, and our father’s principled pronouncements. I prefer that to thinking I’m just too stupid to prostitute my work!
A 500 mile round trip to Lawrence County, PA. was made even more special by photographing a beautiful high school senior and spending time with my own family.
John BehmJeff, you couldn’t be more on-target (particularly about chocolate tuxes!! 😉 ) What you speak of approaches the dilemna faced by artists: to try to capitalize on the fashion of the moment?, or to strive to transcend ephemeral questions to achieve something which endures, irrespective of passing tastes, fashions, trends.
It sometimes galls, of course, to see the opportunists of trends prosper, as they often seem to do, while we struggle on. When you keep on making your work, cleaving to your vision despite the lean times, this is the mark of the artist – so I’ve always understood (or am I just rationalizing my own history 😉 ).
It is entertaining to watch as years roll round and suddenly, surprisingly (hah! ), one’s work in synch with the moment’s tastes again. Even a stopped clock tells the right time twice a day, though we may know that we are telling the truth – our truth – all day long.
How we came to this perspective – to hope to transcend – who can tell? Imbibed with our mother’s milk perhaps, and our father’s principled pronouncements. I prefer that to thinking I’m just too stupid to prostitute my work!