I am utterly lost.
It's also called: Dissertation hell.
I have so many things I care about, but I'm terrible with words.
One day I want to write about war photography. Then I want to write about dance.
Or ballet. But then I look at ballet pictures, and I want to throw up. I don't like them.
There's barely any emotion in their faces, it's all staged. So then I think about staged photography.
When is it that we're looking at truth? .. But if you have a look at the Royal ballet images, it's the images that
are simply beautiful and obviously staged, that makes you want to go to the ballet, right? Then you get there,
and you get disappointed because it wasn't that magnificent as you thought it would be. You were fed a lie all the way,
but you knew that, right? So then I want to write about the society feeding us lies through false imagery, because in the end:
It all comes down to money. From there, I would like to write about money and art. How the art world is utterly fucked because we
have some top critics in the world deciding what is going to cost thousands of pounds, while something just as beautiful - is not even worth £10.
This all gets me frustrated.
But I know I love stories.
Pictures that tell a narrative of some kind, about... Humanity, hope, sorrow, and every other emotion that our species have.
In the dance - it's the emotion I care about, not how well she's performing whatever that dances is doing. Is she faking that emotion, or is it real?
Is this staged? Does it matter?
I want to write about the emotions that arise in people when looking at war photography.
How long does that feeling last? Will you do something about that feeling, or simply go:
"Ohhhh... Wow.. I feel so sorry for that starved, little boy.."
2 minutes later: "Right.. What am I having for dinner today?"
I can't make up my mind, and it's destroying me at the moment.
Can't sleep properly, it's affecting everything I do and think about, and it's in general pain in the ass.
I'm running out of time.