And we waste our time when we could be writing every wrong.

(Photographs from recent trip home)

Been thinking about Penny Cousineau-Levine’s thoughts on Canadian photographers (re-reading this) and the common thread that she sees in a lot of work. She cites Margaret Atwood (who concludes that in Canadian literature the central Canadian experience is death and the central mystery is what goes on in the coffin), Edward Said (who talks about plurality of vision and awareness of simultaneous dimensions in the immigrant experience), and uses all kinds of Canadian photographers work to illustrate her supposition.

Who knows. Recent border-crossing, gallery-browsing and people-watching has got me thinking about my reasons for making photographs, and others reasons for making photographs.

Almost finished with Six Feet Under, so that has been fueling a lot of the reading I’ve been doing. If I never watched another thing again, I’d probably be perfectly content replaying the series in my head. So many perfect existential questions and theories are played out, and the relationship dynamics of everyone in the Fisher family are pretty indicative of the reality of human imperfection.

Title credit: The Broken West, Perfect Games

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