|And the hero will...
||[Sep. 5th, 2007|01:16 am]
So a girl dies. The family mourns. The pathologist cuts her up and determines that she died in her sleep. The pathologist sews her together. ... A photographer comes along and captures something beautiful.
Should this preserver of the arts be hailed s a hero or thrown into an asylum as a madman?
when I go to conventions and videotape people, I preserve them in the same respect as this photographer. These time sensitive actions and events that will never repeat again: costumes worn only once, people who convene only once, events held only once a year--they're as fleeting as a decaying body.
...a hero must rise to take action and preserve such moments. That hero is me. That hero is you. that hero is anyone who keeps their photos, their journal entries, their memories. One who recognizes an underlying reality of beauty and lack of concrete material form.
"do you want to dance and celebrate? Raise a glass!" The unrecorded life, the unpreserved life--it ends up worthless. Preservation is our last attempt, us holed up and dying in our castle , while our ideals and hopes are slowly but surely eroded away by how everything we try to hold will pass away.
[Inspired by Sugaloo, Paul's Dickins quote, and Tim Lambesis' poetry]