Vision

I love Cole Thompson’s work.
He has vision.
He has skills. I can learn nothing from him.


I can always tell a Cole Thompson photo.
How does he do that?
Vision. That is the secret.


Apparently all photographers are supposed to find their vision.
It had better happen to me soon because I can barely see the mailbox from where I sit.
Perhaps my vision is ‘blur’ photography.


That is what I am good at.
Everything I do is blurred.
It’s what I consistently do.
It must be my vision.


My photos are not shit.
My vision is shit.
I am true to my vision.


I have a photo on this site of a green country scene in Canterbury.
It is blurred. Artisically in my opinion with a little blur tool work to finish it off.
It was not planned. Like most of my life.


I emailed Cole and bought some photos.
I told him how much I liked his work.
He replied.
This is like asking the Mansons over for Thanksgiving.
It’s a nice thing to do. But you shouldn’t.


Cole is a polite, sensitive artist who uses a camera like Monet used his pallet.
He writes with precision and clarity.
He wears clean, pressed shirts when working in the field.
He drives a Porsche Spyder convertible.


Let’s pause for a moment.
Clean shirt, Porsche Spyder, skills, sensitivity….
I realize that life is unfair.
I do not need this shoved in my face.


How can the average photographer identify with Cole?
Why does he invite danger by returning emails.
Ever email Bono?


I use my camera for working out when the gym is closed.
I write like I failed Ms. Louden’s 8th grade English diagramming class, which I did.
I leave the oven on. It saves time the next I cook. In 10 years.


What is this vision thing?
I get it for music.
You can’t be both Beethoven and David Lee Roth.
That’s vision for hearing.


I don’t get the vision thing for photography.
Unless my vision is shit.
In which case I am a master and you should listen to me.


Can it be that I have no vision?
Like when my wife explains why linens and oil change rags should not be washed together.
”Really? Is that like darks and whites? I understand now.”
I got vision and stupid confused again.


I struggle with the concept of photographic vision.
I struggle with washing lights and darks together.
I have a vision of my body cut in pieces stuffed in the washer.
I have the Mansons on my mind again.


I suppose my vision is evolving.
Like salamanders came out of the slime and became Sandra Bullock.
Same legs.


I believe that I have found my vision.
That’s why I write this blog.
It reveals myself to me and other strangers.