Photography, Planes, and Creativity
Photography, Planes and Creativity


Recently I had the immense fortune to listen to Dewitt Jones, photographer for National Geographic Magazine. You'd think a photographer wouldn't make for an excellent keynote speaker, but I heard how wonderful he was, and so wasn't as skeptical as I could have been. Wonderful wasn't the word I would have chosen. Amazing. Spectacular. Moving. Incredible. Those are words.

A friend I had the pleasure to make there asked me to write and share my thoughts on Dewitt's speech. And except for some additions I make here, this is what I wrote:
Are you ready? Because you've asked me to do a difficult thing - to try to explain to you in a medium devoid of emotion, with words that will most likely be poorly chosen, to describe to you something beyond words and emotions. So this may be a long letter!

(Now I'm sitting here just trying to begin, and I don't know where to start!)

There are few times I recall being so affected, so uplifted, that it felt as though my heart would break because it's so joyously powerful. And it made my heart feel like it was breaking because of some bitter-sweet sadness or regret as well. Maybe I've just realized that there has always been this much beauty and joy in my life, that I would have experienced more were I more aware.

Dewitt Jones took a moment of my life, and just as he stated in his speech, made me feel like I was in love with the world. That was what he called creativity, that passion that we feel for even a moment.

A little boy with a toy camera - actually a thermos! - once asked Dewitt, "Does your camera have juice in it?" Does your pen have juice in it? Do your running shoes have juice? What about your marriage, your job, your hobby, your family relationships, your computer, your paintbrush- do they have "juice?" What is your passion - and is that where your juice is? How can your passion not have juice? And if there's no "juice" in what you're doing, why are you doing it?

(How can my writing be any less thrilling than when I started if there's juice in my pen? And if by continued writing, isn't it always full of juice?) That little boy had all the wisdom of the saints. I cracked up like everyone else in the audience did. But how true. It's so simple - if you do what you love, well, there'll always be "juice in it."

I remember Dewitt said, "I won't see it until I believe it." Most people are the opposite, and need the proof before they can believe what's been true all along. I love this phrase! ( I managed to become published in non-web publications - how could I have accomplished that if I couldn't envision it happening in the first place?) Faith is the important factor. If I don't believe something can happen, it won't, just by that power alone.

But that just connects with something else Dewitt said: "Put out the best regardless of who may be there to receive it." ( It wouldn't have mattered to me that what I wrote was published for others to see. It pleased me as it was. I'm immensely thrilled that it will be there for others to see, and possibly please them!) I've realized that maybe that's why I do everything to the best of my ability. Because doing something only half-heartedly may not be know to others, but it will be known to me.

That phrase I think applies to my website too. I don't care who reads it. It has a POTENTIAL to be read. Everyday I love to see that 15-20 people have checked out my site. That's inspiration enough for me to keep pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard)! "Everyone has a story - but so few are willing to listen." That's why my site is here. It's for others too, who care to share their stories. But they don't. I wonder if most people are afraid to tell their stories, just because they believe no one will listen or care to listen. Or because they think they're not important/interesting/funny/exciting enough for their stories to be told.

"Life doesn't make appointments." Things happen regardless of where we are at the moment, regardless of who is there to witness it. If it's gonna happen, it will - you missed the train and got here late, well, sorry! But the catch is this - there is always something happening, there are moments taking place right now and now and now that we miss because we don't look. Or because we don't believe, we don't see what is before our faces.

Dewitt said that intuition is what guides us to "what's wanting to happen," and intellect, which when used at it's fullest, puts us in the "place of most potential" for what can happen. It's not a coincidence! I'm thinking about how many times I or my friends have been somewhere and thought, God this is so beautiful, we're so lucky to see this happen. But it's not. I could very easily have moments like that every day, just by using my intellect to put me in the place where that incredible moment is likely to occur. And that isn't all about picture-taking either. It's about opportunity, about seizing the moment for what it could be.

If his speech was incredible, his photography was shattering. I would see pictures I thought were great, and so did everyone else in the audience. Then Dewitt would say, "But, look at this!" And the audience would chime out, "Aaaah!" But then: "Look at this from another angle." And: "AAAAHHH!!" It was absolutely impossible not to react. Perfection perfected is an incredible miracle. But to see it perfected thrice is beyond words.

To be honest, tears started welling up in my eyes in response to the beauty and emotional power of it all. My hand was shaking as I reached for my glass, and I had to wipe my eyes to see clearly. But I figured it was OK, because my boss was sitting behind me crying.

As I was drove to work a few days after, I was looking at the sky and remembering how gorgeous it was to see it from the other side on the plane ride home. Amazing. On the flight back, a high school kid started talking to me and we talked the whole way back. Just an incredibly mature and sensitive person. He looked out and said: "Up here it's easy to forget all the problems down below, and it makes it hard to imagine they're all that important." Right on.

But, I was admiring these clouds so perfect they looked painted on, and I was thinking about Dewitt and all our petty problems down here, when I passed through the toll booth. I chatted with the booth operator, a guy named Tony whom I've spoken with often. We both agreed how long it'd been seen we'd seen each other, since he'd been on a night shift for a while. Why am I telling you this? Because when he offered to pay my 50 cent toll, and wouldn't accept my money, I drove off and started crying.

Because Russ on the plane was right. Because Dewitt is right. Because a vision of beauty, a willing ear, or a kind word or deed can make our overwhelming problems "down here" seem less so, but only if we choose to believe it.



My Stories
The Art of Being Human

Email: artofbeinghuman@yahoo.com