G. Steve Journal

Tried to Engineer

I came across this observation by the late writer David Foster Wallace and it reminded me that when I used to head out on photo excursions, only after I stopped seeking whatever it was I hoped to find did I encounter the gift that had been there all along:

Almost nothing important that ever happens to you happens because you engineer it. Destiny has no beeper; destiny always leans trenchcoated out of an alley with some sort of pssstt that you usually can't even hear because you're in such a rush to do something important you've tried to engineer.

 

What Else Is There?

I’ll always remember the evening I saw my first movie by director Terence Malick — “Days of Heaven.” It made such an impression on me that I walked out of the theater with the friend who’d suggested we go, said “Good night,” went back into the movie theater and paid to see it again.

The cinematography was unlike anything I’d ever seen before and I have no doubt that it influenced how I view the world, even as I pursued a still photography career for decades following that experience.

I’ve since transitioned to video and now attempt to emulate the Malick aesthetic when I can. I recently came across an interview of his where he discussed his approach, concluding with this telling observation:

“…these films can enable small changes of heart, changes that mean the same thing: to live better and to love more. And even an old movie in poor and beaten condition and can give us that. What else is there to ask for?”

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Find a Good Way

I came across an impassioned argument against seeking a secure “day job” by French novelist Gustave Flaubert and was reminded of an influential book I read some years ago by Lewis Hyde entitled “The Gift” which explores, in great depth, the struggle to both be creative and also pay the bills in a market-based economy.

A story about Hyde in the NY TIMES described the dilemma like this:

In the course of writing “The Gift,” Hyde underwent an intellectual transformation on this subject. He began the work believing there was “an irreconcilable conflict” between gift exchange and the market; the enduring (if not necessarily the happy) artist was the one who most successfully fended off commercial demands. By the time he was finished, Hyde had come to a less-dogmatic conclusion. It was still true, he believed, that the marketplace could destroy an artist’s gift, but it was equally true that the marketplace wasn’t going anywhere; it had always existed, and it always would. The key was to find a good way to reconcile the two economies.

I found the book to be interesting and inspiring, even though it’s not an especially easy read — Hyde’s keen intellect and the broad scope of his arguments can be intimidating in places.

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