Dead Guys

So many days pass between thoughts, but so many thoughts drown my sanity.

One such thought that itches, annoys and keeps arising is the disappointment I have for Heath Ledger’s death. I felt the same way when River Phoenix died, such a loss of beautiful artists. Really I don’t feel like asking the questions “How?” and “Why?” because I understand how and why, but still it is sad. Selfishly, I wanted to see more. Maybe that is what killed them…the desire for more. A friend of mine from high school died a few years back from heroin. He also was a beautiful beatnik soul, who washed all of us with his words, his poetry. A newspaper article is all I have of him, with some negatives I took when all of us thought we could recreate the village scene in Richmond. I haven’t talked to him in 12 years, and now I am stuck wanting more, but seeking it from a dead guy. The others sold out or got lost in the system, and I wonder where I am. Did I get lost or am I where I am supposed to be? Will more negatives of creative passion come out of my digital camera?

The torment to create but finding joy in such creation becomes more difficult as time passes. I love getting lost in the passion of creation, but too many thoughts from other responsibilities do not allow me to enjoy the creation. Usually I cannot create something I feel is new and fresh. I resort to comfort creativity.

I really wanted to see more films from Heath and River. I wanted to listen to more poetry from Mark. I wanted to find my niche with photography. We all worked hard, but the craft and passion died?