Dreams Deferred, Cont'd

Okay, I just re-read my last post and realized that it sounds really pathetic and pitiful. I'm not that pathetic, I promise! What I meant was that somehow time seems to be running out. Every day that goes by when I'm just treading water instead of going after my dreams is another dream deferred. I've also come to the conclusion that most of my dreams are pretty much unattainable. That's a really depressing realization to have, because what does it leave me with? Should I take a risk and try for one, or play it safe and keep on doing what I'm doing? Is the ache that I live with every day that I don't pursue my dreams something that I will eventually grow used to, or something that will just fade away with time? Is it worth the risk of attempting and most likely failing at something I've always dreamt about? I'm not just talking the emotional risk, although that's a heavy factor. I'm also talking about the financial aspect too. I really want to pursue photojournalism, especially with regards to war and conflict, because that is something that I feel so strongly about, but the logic in me warns that it's a very tough field, very competitive and difficult to make a living in. That's not even considering the discomfort, pain, danger, sickness, fear, everything that comes with working in war zones. I don't even like camping! Can I handle it? And then there's the fact that I don't think I'm a very good photographer. I don't know if I could even hack it. Is it worth going through all the hassle of applying to a program, getting in (hopefully), moving there, paying tuition, doing the coursework, and then possibly failing at it?

Wild and Whirling Thoughts

I know I just posted a few hours ago, but I can't sleep. I have too many thoughts racing around my brain right now for calm repose. I have to get up in six hours, and I don't function too well on less than nine hours of sleep, but sleep is impossible at this moment.

Lately I've been seeing in pictures. And by pictures, I mean photographs. Everywhere I go, I see possible photos. I'm going to start carrying my SLR around with me all the time, so hopefully I can start to capture all the pictures I see.

Me, photojournalist. Can it be? It's a dream I've been carrying around tucked in my back pocket for, oh, years now. I put it aside years ago, filed away under "Impossible". Can I do it though? That's the question. Will I be good at it? Do I have enough art in my soul to succeed? Is my skin thick enough to withstand the rough parts (and it will be rough).

I know I'm repeating myself here, but I feel like I've been wandering this past year and a half since I graduated from college. Is photojournalism my destination? Do I even have one? Do I need one? Is the meaning really in the journey rather than the destination? I never really could quite buy that before, but now I think it just might be the truth. It's all about how you get there, not when. Non-traditional, non-linear just might work for me, I think. I rebel. I rebel just to rebel. I don't like being forced to do anything, and that goes for traditional life paths as much as anything. School, career, marriage, children. That is what is expected. Therefore, that is the last thing I want, at least right now.

Do I really need to lay out my life before me in black and white? Do I need a pre-planned outline of how to live? No, life doesn't work like that. I'm starting to realize that I need to just enjoy what happens and worry less about whether certain things are achieved, and whether they are time stamped by such and such date. If photojournalism works out, which I can't help but hope it does, then good. If not, I'll wander on to the next passion, and maybe that one will work out. The journey continues. As long as I enjoy it, do I really need to land anywhere?

Just let it be. Que sera, sera.

Really, though, I'm crossing my fingers for photojournalism.

Not All Who Wander Are Lost

"Not all who wander are lost."
-J.R.R. Tolkien

That quote really resonates with me right now, because I'm wandering. At first I thought that I was lost, but now I've realized that I'm not. I'm just wandering. Where will my wandering take me? Now that's the question.

I'm trying to decide what I want to do with my life, essentially what I want to be when I grow up (and yes, I realize that 24 is technically grown-up, but I don't feel like a grown-up). I keep oscillating between different fields, everything from publishing to photojournalism to non-profits to museum studies. I know, I know, I have a wide variety of interests. That's kind of my problem, I have a little bit of knowledge of a lot of things. I'm interested in a lot of different things, but I don't really know enough about each one to decide if it's really what I want to do.

Right now, however, I've almost-pretty-sure-but-not-quite-decided that I want to pursue photojournalism. The (almost) deciding factor is that it's something that I feel VERY strongly about. That alone is enough to nearly convince me enroll at the Brooks Institute in CA, which I'm about ready to do.

Is passion really enough, though? I definitely have the passion, the burning desire to make a difference, to take a photograph that makes someone cry, or laugh, or petition their government to make a difference. I want to win a Pulitzer (okay, so I'm a little bit ambitious) and affect people. I want people to know that I lived, that I made a difference, that I helped someone. I want to help someone. There are lots of ways to help people, I know, but I love photography and to me it seems like the best way to effect change. I think the media as an entity is vital, and lately it's been slacking in its purpose. The media is meant to inform and question, that is, inform the people and question the government. What is going on in Afghanistan and Iraq right now...the average American doesn't have a CLUE, and while a lot of that is due to the military's stringent censorship rules, part of it is also because the media just doesn't cover it. I want to go to places like that and show your average overweight, consumer-happy American just what the real cost of war is. What it does to the Iraqi and Afghani people whose lives have been, and continue to be, torn apart. Print journalism is another avenue I explored, but words (while important) just don't have the visceral, immediate impact that a picture can have. Hearing that people are being maimed by IED's or shot by insurgents or soldiers doesn't mean as much or affect viewers as much, as seeing a shattered, broken body lying in the street or a blood-splattered screaming child does. I want to move people, to affect them, to make them care as much as I do, enough to want to do something to help, to stop it!