So, he sits on the corner of Boynton Beach and 441. His dog sits under his chair. He asks for help. Lots of people give it. Some question his need. But, as far as I am concerned, if he sits there, it is for a reason and I don’t need to know why. His story is his story.
So I walk around with a camera, using it to document the race, humans etc. It may not make me smarter or stronger, but I feel better about life. Meeting and talking with others makes me less stupid and more aware how we are all different. I don’t ask for stories. I ask if I can help. Felix didn’t want help. He said he was ready to die. No one knows for sure, if he went. I learned when I went to the food pantry and my images of him were on the door. Last people heard, he had been taken to a hospice.
Felix lived here, right off the highway. He lived in the woods. He could have had a place if he wanted one.
His front yard.
Garage and reading room.
So, Donny Douchebag, our coldhearted faux President of the United States proposes to cut funds for the poor. What will happen to these people? Yes, they could work if they had homes, places to store their things and health care. What would you want them to do?
I feel Bannon’s bum body pushing this legislation. His boss doesn’t understand poor. Bullies squash their adversaries and then either walk over their bodies or joke about their predicaments. The President and his buddies would rather see dead and decaying bodies in the street than offer support. More money for them. More power for them. And less for those who due to either not being born rich, being a victim of a social or medical disease or having a diagnosable mental problem, don’t have a chance.
I have never been hungry, poor or without a place to live. Have you?
Now, why didn’t I have the courage to do this when I could? I guess it’s because I wanted to use words instead of images to change the world. I failed. Stanley Green didn’t.
Very sad. The world will miss his work. To replicate it, if that was possible, a photographer would need to be connected to the universe by strings, like he was. He could feel the beat and see it. I got the feeling from his work that he knew the answers. I wonder if he felt the same way.
So, Donny’s problem is that he doesn’t know what a dumb, ignorant shit he is. And, the same goes for his base. I won’t give them the benefit of the doubt and quantify them as Conservatives. They are at best nationalists, who care for nothing and nobody but themselves. At worse, they are mean spirited, spiteful, narrow minded and unaffected by knowledge, reason or humanity.
When you figure out what Dunning-Kruger disease is you will understand.
In 1955, Fortune Magazine published a piece by Walker Evans entitled, “The Beauty of the Common Tool.” Previously, he had shot portraits of workers at their jobs. This studio work was designed to show the tool, highlighting its shape, form and metallic color. along with its price and manufacturer. Like any glamour picture, the beauty is in the eyes of the beholder. The viewer didn’t need to know the function to appeciate its looks.
Never gave this much thought. Did you?
Not much good to say about where I live. Lots of ill-mannered New Yorker/New Jerseans who rush everywhere, drive madly and think they know it all. Arts and crafts. Cards. Golf. Restaurants, especially early bird specials. Lots of lines, people who talk about grandkids and coupons.
Not a lot of culture, even though we have several museums, nature walks and a plethora of movie theaters. People who watch MSNBC and CNN talk like they have a seat at the table, never mind the ones who watch Fox who control foreign policy. One day in the gym, three televisions had Fox news on, entertaining people on treadmills and stationary bikes.
But, we do have Shelly and his movies. He introduces movies you might not go to see and leads discussions at their conclusion. Always upbeat and tolerant of dumb comments, he increases awareness of cinematic art.
Now, remember, I am a photographic artist, a cult that people know little about, despite the democratization of cameras and photo making. I constantly strive to see better. Shelly’s incisive comments help me to watch movies more critically, though he’s more reviewer than critic. Going to his movies makes life a little more bearable down here.
So, we walked at Green Cay, again. Love the place. People smile. Some workout by walking around and around. Mostly, people want to see an alligator.
Here’s a baby. Mom swam nearby. Several other babies hid in the reeds. A woman standing next to me, photographing with a cell phone complained: “…, hard to get this shot; he has the same coloring at the grass.”
“Yup, I replied, “and it only took 200 million years.” She didn’t laugh, but others did.