09 May 2007
I've been trying to open my eyes in different ways lately, broaden my scope of thinking. I'm taken by the idea that inspiration comes from so many different places, in so many different ways and mostly, at the oddest times.
if you fold up and close yourself off, it's impossible to see this. I don't even think I realize I'm all folded up sometimes. I try hard not to think of all I've missed along the way because I wasn't looking, because I wasn't paying close enough attention. instead, I try to think about the things I haven't missed, how some of those sparks turned into great fires. also, I like to think about what's ahead and just around the corner. I think maybe that's why taking a photograph on the daily feeds me like no other creative project ever has before.
merce cunningham talks about how he 'sees all movement as dance: a man stepping off a curb, a woman jiggling her foot impatiently, a bird arching its bony shoulders'. one of the greatest choreographers of our time gets the everyday thing in the most profound way. truly, the most powerful dances I have ever been a part of were ones that were born from the simplest gestures. movements that normally would've gone completely unnoticed took on great significance, were woven into distinct patterns and rhythms. in this way, they were given a voice and a sense of permanence.
then yesterday, I was reading about how these rusty red oil drums in texas were the inspiration for earrings made by sulu-design. I am in love with the premise of this (and crazy about the earrings too). she's been inspired by (and created earrings after): a fruit stand in queens, a favorite hotel lobby, a neighborhood laundromat and perhaps my favorite: yellow patio furniture spotted in brooklyn. I imagine wearing a pair would lead to thinking about the how they came to be. which would of course lead to talking-- I think I would always want to talk about that fruit stand or the yellow patio furniture, even though I never saw any of it for myself. I would be wearing a piece of that everydayness, a tiny fragment of inspiration from a different time and place and that would be enough for me.
the more I look, the more I see. I'm not sure what to do with it all, but I like the idea that it exists: colors hidden all over the city, neighborhoods that appear out of nowhere, unlikely musical instruments, accidental street art, pedestrians unknowingly participating in random dances, extraordinary pattern and design in cluttered storefronts. there's an infinite accessibility in this way of seeing, endless possibility in all of it and I like that. I really like that.