Some Days, Some Photos
I used to write about moments. One moment that kicked me across the teeth was waiting outside for me at the Hilton in Austin, TX.
So I’m outside of the hotel, thinking about attending a lecture session that would undoubtably add more stress than was necessary for Halloween weekend. I had been going to important meetings to listen to important people talk, and I hadn’t been doing much except sitting. I don’t like sitting.
So I’m laying down under a tree, which is when good things happen to me, and I see a man in a blue shirt against the tan of the building. With three flags in the background, I thought I could make an interesting photo from across the street.
Not my best. I didn’t like that I couldn’t see his form distinctly, and the view of the hotel wasn’t as interesting as I thought it was. So I approached closer.
Oh shit, dreaded conversation. I think this was a small moment of realization for me. I had been avoiding approaching him, for reasons I probably won’t be able to explain other than: I like the sound of my thoughts and I wouldn’t want to interrupt them with someone else’s.
Oh how I am wrong! After talking with Frank Coffman, I was convinced to go to his session on Literary Journalism the next day. He explained that “gonzo” journalism and other more poetic forms of “new journalism” is really old journalism. In an attempt to bring back some readers, or at least keeping the ones they have, newspaper editors are experimenting with letting their writers be more subjective and non traditional in their style. A good example would have to be Ernest Hemingway’s Treat ‘em Rough, a WWI era piece that delivered information about what it felt like to participate in war, but didn’t stick to some dry obsession with all the facts.
I can’t say I really like this photograph either, I probably could put the shadows behind his head, or at least done something more…poetic.
But I think this is what I like about journalism, or at least what’s going to keep me enthused about it while I figure out this whole college thing. To be given the blessing of the realization of my ignorance…that is a real gift. I can’t stay inside of my head, because sooner or later, it’s going to get stale up there.
I had a couple more moments like this. This man was from Cameroon, and told me, “If anyone ever tells you that there is another country like America, tell them they’re wrong.” He says he would have been put in jail for wearing his Halloween costume in his home country.
Everything seems like its changing.
The title of this artwork reads “No Sere Olvidado,” or “I Will Not Be Forgotten.” The work, by Marie Garza, was displayed at the La Pena art gallery.
