on the bloc by JasonChapman on March 4th, 2009

I had the pleasure of spending the day with a group of very fine, relaxed, creative and co-operative people on the weekend. I’m sharing this shot, in particular, because it illustrates the point I am about to make.

Rather than waiting and watching for the perfect moment to materialize out of the noise of life, I ignored the impulse to wait, and experimented. I wandered in mind and body. I like this result.  

On every level, from ideological down to practical and everyday working habits, I hinder my forward motion with aspirations to a life without struggle. I can’t say it’s been wholly conscious. That thought would have seemed absurd enough to bring itself to light earlier than it has. But, with every decision I’ve made about my creative endeavours I’ve realized that I was assuming the situation I was creating would be without, for lack of better wording, outside influence. I have been working under the assumption that the closer I came to doing exactly what it is I am interested in doing the less friction I would feel from the world around me. And, of course, I am wrong. 

Perhaps having the exalted perception that I have struggled more than those around me I have felt justified in my aim to achieve a state of graceful effortlessness. Maybe it was just hope. It’s not so hard to understand that long struggle begets simple fatigue. I’ve noticed lately, having made bolder efforts toward the assembling of projects that matter to me, that even work close to your heart can be work - plain and simple. 

Photography has become a much debated and vaguely defined medium and that has me in a constant state of self-examination. I’d rather that not be the case. But, that very inability on my part to define my role and move forward has seriously altered my trajectory from where it aimed a few years ago. I can’t say that’s a bad thing. I find the depth of these new discoveries about myself and about the world around me deeply rewarding. And, as much as I’d love to finally relax, the struggle is what has brought me here. 

Writing is much more solitary. I’m not forced to collaborate. And it’s hard. It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever tried to do. I’ve realized after a mere 6 years of making the attempt, that it will continue to be the hardest thing in my life until the end. I’ll find no groove. It’s not in me to inhabit an easy voice and tell stories. This inkling has terrified me in the past couple of years. The knowledge that I would/will always exist in this state of concerted separateness in order to be able to see the facets of life I don’t personally experience has weighed on me to the point of quitting.

The revelation at the core of this is my realization that struggle is not to be overcome. I blame that assumption on my relatively comfortable and typically suburban upbringing. If I ever wanted to achieve a state of grace, my only aspiration now is to attain that state in the toil of everyday creation.

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