My own view, however, is that the you-are-your-brain conception is dead wrong and that the best, new biology of consciousness supports this idea that the mind is not in the head. We need to get out of our heads to understand ourselves. For we are not brains in vats of skull, we are animals, dynamically entangled with the world around us. Where do you stop and where does the world around you begin? Not at the skull, and not even at the limits of the body.
Both destiny’s kisses and its dope-slaps illustrate an individual person’s basic personal powerlessness over the really meaningful events in his life: i.e. almost nothing important that ever happens to you happens because you engineer it. Destiny has no beeper; destiny always leans trenchcoated out of an alley with some sort of Psst that you usually can’t even hear because you’re in such a rush to or from something important you’ve tried to engineer.
Wynn Bullock’s 1951 photograph, Let There Be Light, is a perfect example of Edward Weston’s influence on his colleague’s style and technique. Bullock utilized a high degree of contrast in this image to accentuate the organic qualities of his natural landscape. While celebrating and highlighting the geological elements of the scene, he also removes middle grey tones to construct an abstract, formalist view. The meandering, shimmering river cuts through the seemingly impenetrable black of the coast, creating a dichotomy between the water and land. Additionally, the moon, and the eerie glow it casts on the still water, exists as a separate entity and the only source of light. This photo represents the introverted nature studies that he was known for after he became acquainted with Weston. It also exhibits a comparative quality, sentiment, and composition to Laura Gilpin’s 1948 photo, The Rio Grande Yields Its Surplus To The Sea.
I get rejected, accepted, and published all because I am patient and persistent. I have lived through various “trends” in writing, waiting patiently until the thing I do can be appreciated and accepted once again. Beauty has gone out of fashion, and come back. “Nature poems” have been despised, but now everyone is “going green.” Some people equate simplicity of language with simplistic thought, and thus ignore me, while I have always found that the most complex thinking usually requires the greatest clarity of statement. I am not a flashy poet, nor a trendy or political poet. I write about what goes on around me, and inside me. Paul Auster has said, “Becoming a writer is not a ‘career decision’ like becoming a doctor or a policeman. You don’t choose it so much as get chosen, and once you accept the fact that you’re not fit for anything else, you have to be prepared to walk a long, hard road for the rest of your days.” I am committed to walking this long, hard road and have been on it, in my meandering way, for quite a lovely while.