Thought No. 1090

I recently attended a rave in Singapore.
And I noticed people taking out their cameras to record the performance.

It got me thinking about the way we view the world.
The lens, the perspective, how we perceive and how we remember.

First of all, why do we take photographs of the world?
We want these images to be seen.
To capture a moment lost in time. That even replicated, will never be the same as the first.
That the moment, we can then share with others who weren't there to illicit an emotional response.
The point of photographs is to be seen. By you or by others, that is besides the point.

Words induce imagination. Pictures limit them.
With words, I can describe the show and you and I will have differing images of what occurred and where the emphasis would be.
With pictures, you and I would be on the same page of what occurred and where the emphasis would be on.

Why do we distrust our memories so?
Do we distrust our ability to remember details?
Do we distrust out ability to communicate those details in a manner that other people will understand?

Pictures are memories that live outside of us.
And they help us to remember what sometimes forget.
They help to bring us back to a different time, a different place.
Maybe that is what Art is really about.
Maybe that's what Life can sometimes be about.

To be caught up in the past is dangerous.

The YEar of Magical Thinking

by Joan Didion is the real life account of her dealing with the grief of losing her husband.

Its very raw, very emotional, and if anything should be read PRIOR to said grief event happening, otherwise the words are likely to just skim by without meaning if given AFTER.

Some interesting things to note, this quote:
I love you more than one more day.

Paraphrased from Marian (Audrey Hepburn) from Robin and Marian, the motion picture:
"I love you. More than all you know. I love you more than children. More than fields I've planted with my hands. I love you more than morning prayers or peace or food to eat. I love you more than sunlight, more than flesh or joy, or one more day."

Another item of note is the fact that she states animals also appear to experience grief at the loss of their mate.

Now there are arguments if animals are actually capable of feelings of love as we define them.

Are they really mourning the death of their soul mate of whom they communicate with everyday?
That they were sharing their life with, that of which fills their memories with joy and whom we looked to for comfort?

Or are they just lamenting the fact that they won't get laid anytime soon?
And that biologically they're past their prime to attract a mate therefore they're grieving over their lost biological potential?

Without communication, are we able to determine this?
What are we really lamenting in times of grief?
Are we similar to animals? Are they similar to us?

Which is the mirror in which we see ourselves?