dishsink (c) 2010 i.m. ruzz

wherever there is light there is a chance at beauty. being present and aware, ready to open up to something other than your own thoughts, having good timing (like doing dishes at sunset) can often be enough to convert our boring world into something magical.

i was doing some dishes and the sun was coming horizontal into my kitchen. I washed a glass frying pan top and the light hit it off the drying rack and turned my wall into a light show.

photos don’t do it justice. but i only took it so i could remember and remind you to stop now and then and watch what’s going on around you.

you don’t need to be a photographer to take part—in fact, you’re probably lucky if you aren’t.

(c) theRealAaronDunn

if anyone takes better shots of my girl, i don’t know who that is..

(c) 2010 i.m. ruzz

(c) 2004-2010 i.m. ruzz

passion is my only fetish.

toood:

[no title]
by David Bellemére
via Morning Beauty | Eliza Sys by David Bellemére | Fashion Gone Rogue

(c) 2004-2010 i.m. ruzz

cannery row (c) 2004-2010 i.m. ruzz (night exposure)

life would be immeasurably better for me if i was able to connect to the things i see everyone else connecting to.

it feels the purpose of exploring life, and earnestly trying to develop a philosophy that can withstand the pressures of a depressive mind—without pharmaceuticals, or institutional vacations—that i have dislodged myself from the warm center of shared goals and feeling in-step with my peers, and my culture.

the irony of that might not be obvious but consider for a moment the value of peers, and friends, and relationships in relation to your satisfaction in life.

with each iteration of my understanding, and each shedding, or each adoption i watch the chasm grow. i feel isolated by language and the symbols we use to express conceptual constructs. I physically feel frustration trying to find creative ways to explain my take on things to most people. we use a common language but our symbols table is drawn from different places. often, I just give up.

the slow removal of the shared aspirations of wealth, goods, power, reputation, the soul, ambition and sometimes love from my goals has left me without a way to make any sense to most of the people i share time with.

and sensing another shift building by watching my experience, my reading, and what i am moving towards I’m debating the entire process of growth or learning.

i have no true goal in my life. no touchstone to focus me back to what’s important. i learn by doing. and you can’t unlearn something just because you don’t like how what you learnt changed your life.

the last 4 months or more have been quite hard. winter is always hard but life throws a lot at you from time to time and as i weather this winter i’m compelled to ask some questions about how i’m living, where my energy is given, and what i can change to find more satisfaction.

it’s a bit like trying to get somewhere with no map and only knowing you’re there when you’re there and go, oh, this is where i wanted to be. only emotionally.

there is a uniting goal it seems we all share. ourselves.

i feel myself coming untied from that idea.

the people i know who are most self-focused are the most fractured. they are largely unhappy, insecure, manic and dissatisfied.

there is a way of life that exists entirely because we cannot take our eyes off our own emotions, needs, and wants long enough to detect it, or take steps to correct it. this self focused way of life is riddled with discontent, stress, insecurity, fear, or denial.

we’re the most neurotic, stressed out, unhappy people to ever walk the planet despite all our growth and production. half my friends are on anti-depressants. the other half are using drugs, booze, or more culturally acceptable ways to self medicate like work. many mix all three.

there are only a few remaining unassailable ideas left to modern people. ideas that are so deeply ingrained in our lives, language and stories that they are entirely beyond question.

love, happiness and growth (often meant as more production of some sort).

and by narrowing the discussion to these three ideas we’ve crafted a world that speaks only in their terms. a monoculture of thought. allowing disease to specialize. allowing diversity to whither and die.

every other idea or thought must lead to one of those three things to be valuable to us.

every action, expression, and moment must be spent towards one of those three things or we feel shame, guilt, or insecurity.

there is no room for exploration. no time for play or experimentation. no real learning (only filtering knowledge towards those goals). and it seems there is no satisfaction, contentment, peace.

when growth/production are on the table as a main course by virtue of its nature contentment is out. acceptance is the enemy. and satisfaction is a moving target that can only be attained in measurement to how much.

everything becomes about more. more virtures, more knowledge, more stuff, more friends, more reputation, more ______ insert whatever matters to you ______ but it always boils down to more.

as a photographer i’m meant to want to grow my name. to establish myself as “someone” through works. books, exhibits, print sales, high end clients and the like. the theory holds that the logical end of my work is, without question, to have my photos seen. the more who see my work, the more it means. the more value it has and by extension the more value i have. it becomes a feedback loop. if the world thinks you’re great, you’re great. if the world doesn’t adore you, throw money at you, throw options at you; you’re not anything and neither is your work.

as a secondary pursuit to the above, i’m meant to constantly be one upping my own work somehow. more technical perfection. more elaborate or sophisticate artifacts. more attractive subjects, settings, compositions. more, more more.

and all of this is meant to make me happy.

but it doesn’t.

what makes me happy is appreciating beauty. not creating it. participating in beauty, not accumulating it. experiencing it, not evaluating it. i only began recording it because it felt like i should. i felt it was somehow wasted if i didn’t capture, document, describe, express it.

and i wanted to see more naked girls. up close. who took orders well.

i’m only accidentally a photographer. i was only interested in beauty.

which now ties me back to the self-focused topic and my desire to disengage from it. being self-focused i had to commodify the beauty i experienced to show the world how unique and wonderful i was because i could see it where others might not be able to. and probably, somewhere in there i hoped showing this would make me lovable. and hopefully being loved would make me happy.

and you could argue my life represents exactly that pattern. the beautiful creature that shares my bed met me through this pursuit. a goodly part of her attraction and interest probably originally stemmed from ideas she got about me from my work and my view of beauty. and when she kisses my cheeks softly, i am about as happy as anyone could be. so this model must work.

except it doesn’t. unless i can give everything else up and live my life being face-kissed full time i still must find meaning, satisfaction and happiness in other places in my life.

and in this effort i want to change the discussion from creation to appreciation. from producing to experiencing. from self, to other. from ego, to whatever alternative there may be to ego. is there one? do we have a word for it?

as a direct result of this i hope to tear some stuff down in my life and replace them with more time, space, and peace.

it seems logical to begin with my photography. but follows that many other things must change. including finding a way to survive in a money centered world without giving over all my energy, and time to producing products of other people’s ambitions.

wanting less, accepting more, appreciating more and disengaging from the machine that lives off human insecurity, human fear, and our need to feel like we’re the center of the universe will probably lead me further down the path of isolation. further from the security my mother worries about for my aged years, but my hope is it may bring me closer to the life i’m actually having right now.

(c) 2004-2010 i.m. ruzz
model: livia

(c) 2004-2010 i.m. ruzz
model: aura

sometimes i feel like i’m on the outside looking in on my life.

the things that matter to me are waiting just beyond the window. warmth, comfort, peace, beauty all sit just outside my reach, just within my view.

and you can see tiny parts of me reflected. never all of me, never enough to really know myself. just enough to know someone is there. someone who could be anyone if they just stepped out of the dark long enough to let some light help define them for us.

i’ve been blessed with a closeness to beauty all my life. i’ve often felt i was given access to a world that wasn’t meant for me. that somehow i was an unwanted interloper granted access to somehow record these things i see in words, or photos, or sketches, maybe paints. but i was never meant to consume or partake in the beauty, only observe.

and by virtue of the grace of some beautiful minds, hearts, and bodies I’ve probably been closer and more tangled up in that world than i ought to have been. but even in those brief moments, where i am invited, or wanted, there is always still some sort of barrier.

a lens, a history, a fear.

you shouldn’t do accounting against physical experience. it never adds up. the numbers are always fabrications to make things make sense, or blatant lies.

and i try to remind myself, as i come separated—yet again—from the only thing which really ever interested me, how fortunate i have been. how blessed to even have things worth lamenting. how maybe the costs of following the things i find beautiful, or meaningful, will leave me broke, alone, and bitter when beauty finally shuts the door for good.

there are physical costs set to feeling. consequences to engaging your experience. and they are tallied eventually. paid for eventually.

i watch, removed, my own life develop in unexpected ways. i try to count the gifts, and kindnesses, and let go of the slights, crushing defeats, and long periods of darkness. i try to take each moment as it’s offered. shaping nothing. forcing nothing. demanding nothing. watching in awe at how life moves of its own accord.

but there are times when this position, or technique for living comes with losses too much to stand. questions too hard to face. and in the long winter night i’m often left asking if directing your life makes more sense than watching it.

is there really more beauty or happiness in getting what think you want?

(c) 2004-2010 i.m. ruzz
model: venessa