The spirit has infinite facets, but the body
confiningly few sides.
There is the left,
the right, the back, the belly, and tempting
in-betweens, northeasts and northwests,
that tip the heart and soon pinch circulation
in one or another arm.
Yet we turn each time
with fresh hope, believing that sleep
will visit us here, descending like an angel
down the angle our flesh's sextant sets,
tilted toward that unreachable star
hung in the night between our eyebrows, whence
dreams and good luck flow.
Uncross
your ankles. Unclench your philosophy.
This bed was invented by others; know we go
to sleep less to rest than to participate
in the twists of another world.
This churning is our journey.
It ends,
can only end, around a corner
we do not know
we are turning.
via the writer's almanac, feb 19, 2009.
i hadn't read any of john updike's work until this poem, today. i had made a plan to, though, after reading this recent tribute by my favorite writer...i'm getting excited all over again.
i love "unclench your philosophy" -- those few words stayed with me all morning.
my co-workers were like, "what's with you, smiley?"
i don't know--that line just woke this little mind up.
"uncross your ankles" is a pretty great line, too.
right after i read the poem, i did a quick search for a photo that might be suitable.
i happened upon todd hido's work--i love the moodiness.
if you're interested, here is a link to more of his photos on the rose gallery site and on the stephen wirtz gallery site.
i also found an interview from 2007, where he discusses his book, between the two. i enjoyed reading his thoughts on portraiture and the book editing process.
here's a taste:
re: his focus, and his portraits of women...
I've read that sources of terror in childhood often become sources of attraction in adulthood. I've found that true. It's disturbing to me how many of the models remind me of past women that have been in my life -- not in terms of how they look but in terms of who they seem to be underneath their surfaces. There is a familiarity to them, something that resonates, something kind of troubled about them that is very recognizable to me. It is endlessly fascinating and utterly simple as to why we gravitate to what we do. Of course this is not stuff that I've worked out completely, which is precisely why it's engrossing to me. That is why I do it. That is the focus.
re: editing the book with chris pichler of nazraeli press...
The editing process is part of making the work. I gather up the images I am interested in and then start to lay them out using just a standard book dummy, weaving the images together over a long period of time. With Between the Two, it took about three years of constantly shuffling unpublished work in with new images that I was making on a weekly basis. There was real joy in leaving the darkroom and stopping by the copy shop to make Xeroxes in order to slide them into the dummy, seeing if they fit in someplace. Sometimes the images would work, and sometimes they don't. But almost every image I've made in the last few years was tried out. Some were perfect and added just what I needed and others I've saved for the next project, whatever that may be!
want more? here's a link to the full interview, between hido and ...
