There’s something so unpredictable and exhilarating about the wild that keeps me coming back for more. I was up in the Yosemite back country a couple of weeks ago on a solo one night trip. I thought I was awake because it felt too vivid to be a dream. I appeared to be staring up at the stars for about an eternity before I decided to whip out my camera and take some pictures.
My initial plan was to pose on this rock with my flashlight pointing towards the stars. I was sitting still focusing and preparing when the most magical thing happened to me. A grazing Stag wondered up onto the same rock my lens was pointed at. I instinctively held unto my shutter, for dear life as we both stared into each other’s souls this for what conveniently felt like an forever. As if to say “shhh, you saw nothing” he jumped off the rock and majestically cantered into the distance.
I had to wake up and replicate what I thought had happened. I can only hope that one day I’ll experience something as intimate and magical as that.
I think an artist’s only responsibility is to chase their inspiration and to fall in love. If it happens to make the world a better place, so much the better, but if you’re trying to do that consciously, it feels like homework. We can smell when an artist is doing something out of obligation versus ‘Something in me demands that I write this'… It’s about falling in love and really writing what’s inside you. Sometimes that’s political and sometimes it’s, ‘I’m pissed off and I want to write about how I’m pissed off.’ An artist’s only responsibility is to be true and authentically yourself. …I think that’s our job. I think that’s what people recognize, that’s what people relate to: authenticity.