The Act of Creating Art is Terror Management

“Man is literally split in two: he has an awareness of his own splendid uniqueness in that he sticks out of nature with a towering majesty, and yet he goes back into the ground a few feet in order to blindly and dumbly rot and disappear forever. It is a terrifying dilemma to be in and to have to live with.

Man has a symbolic identity that brings him sharply out of nature. He is a symbolic self, a creature with a name, a life history. He is a creator with a mind that soars out to speculate about atoms and infinity, who can place himself imaginatively at a point in space and contemplate bemusedly his own planet. This immense expansion, this dexterity, this ethereality, this self-consciousness gives to man literally the status of a small god in nature, as the Renaissance thinkers knew.

The knowledge of death is reflective and conceptual, and animals are spared it. They live and they disappear with the same thoughtlessness: a few minutes of fear, a few seconds of anguish, and it is over. But to live a whole lifetime with the fate of death haunting one’s dreams and even the most sun-filled days—that’s something else.”

— Ernest Becker, The Denial of Death

THE MOST IMPORTANT QUESTIONS WE CAN ASK OURSELVES
What’s the most important question, or questions, that a human being can ask? Have you ever thought about that? I have. A lot. For me, and I believe for all humanity, the most important questions revolve around existence. Why am I here? What’s my purpose? Is there a meaning to life? If there is, what is it?

These are the questions that started me on my journey almost 40 years ago. For most of my life, I’ve used photography to explore these questions. Examining why some people are treated differently than others and pondering why the gulf between individuals exists. It was the beginning of my quest to understand what drives human behavior. There is the direct question of purpose, too. Religions were created to answer these questions, but they answer them based on faith, not empirical evidence. There’s evidence that the earliest homo sapiens invented and practiced some kind of religion. Humans have always depended on some kind of supernatural belief. Why is this? The answer is simple: to deal with the knowledge of death and quell the existential anxiety that arises from that knowledge. Death anxiety is a powerful driver in daily life, and most people never know that it is directing their lives. We do all kinds of things to distract ourselves from consciously thinking about our deaths. These distractions can be good or bad. Religions have been the main staple for staving off death anxiety for millennia. Things have changed in the last 300 years. The Enlightenment and the Industrial Revolution (technology) have given rise to people leaving religion and leaning on new constructs to quell their death anxiety. This is why Friedrich Nietzsche said, “God is dead.” He was referring to technology, money, fame, etc., freedom from religion, and personal growth. A form of terror management.

Human beings have an unconscious desire for immortality. We simply can’t face the fact of death or non-existence; it’s what we fear most, whether we know it or not, and most don’t. Ernest Becker wrote, “Man is literally split in two: he has an awareness of his own splendid uniqueness in that he sticks out of nature with a towering majesty, and yet he goes back into the ground a few feet in order blindly and dumbly to rot and disappear forever”. This quote is from Becker's 1973 book, The Denial of Death.

Pessimistic philosophers would tell you that life is a mistake. The overabundance of consciousness (the knowledge of mortality) is an evolutionary misstep. Peter Zapfee talks about the “suffering of brotherhood,” saying that the true knowledge of how much pain and suffering there is in the world is unbearable. The "brotherhood of suffering" is a concept in The Last Messiah by Peter Wessel Zapffe. In the parable, a paralyzed hunter recognizes that the animal's fear and hunger are similar to his own. The hunter then feels a great psalm about the brotherhood of suffering among everything alive.

Zapffe believed that the human condition is tragically overdeveloped and that the world is beyond humanity's need for meaning. He viewed the world as unable to provide any answers to fundamental existential questions.

While I’m not a pessimist, I can see the value of arguments like Zapffe’s. There are no answers to these big questions. There are only distractions to keep us from thinking about them. That’s what terror management theory addresses. How we distract ourselves from the reality of living—that there is no meaning or purpose in life. And that we will die and be forgotten.

The illusions or cultural constructs (cultural worldviews) we lean on to quell our death anxiety are everywhere: religion, politics, having children, getting married, sports, money, fame, degrees, awards, jobs, social status, drugs, alcohol, shopping (tranquilizing with the trivial)—anything to bolster our self-esteem and keep the existential anxiety repressed—and it works, and it works well. If you spend any time on social media, you can easily spot what people rely on to buffer their anxiety. I’ve seen people deeply identify with their vehicles, photography achievements, how long they’ve been married, their new clothes and “look,” the celebrity they met or the concert they attended, and so many other (too much information) things that are meaningless and trivial. What they don’t understand is that no one really cares.

Humans have evolved to suppress or repress this knowledge—to distract ourselves and deny our mortality. We had to, or we wouldn’t have survived. I read a book a while ago called "Denial: Self-Deception, False Beliefs, and the Origins of the Human Mind" by Ajit Varki and Danny Brower. The book presents a theory on the origins of the human species. It explains why denial is a key to being human. The authors argue that humans separated themselves from other creatures because they became self-aware of their own and others' mortality. They then developed a way to deny that mortality. The book offers a warning about the dangers of our ability to ignore reality. It asks why other intelligent animals have not evolved like humans. The authors' answer is that humans have crossed a major psychological evolutionary barrier by developing the ability to deny reality. The theory of mind (TOM) plays a big role in this evolutionary step. I highly recommend reading the book.

Where does that leave us? Well, for some of us who don’t lean on some of the aforementioned illusions, there is art. Art is our distraction and our buffer. The coping mechanism we use to repress the knowledge of our deaths works well. It gives us meaning and significance and makes us feel like we are part of something bigger than ourselves—that maybe our art will live on after we are gone (symbolic immortality). Regardless of what we do, what we create, or where it ends up or not, the function of art is an important one.

WHY DO WE MAKE ART?
No one is going to save the world by making art. That’s not difficult to understand, and I think we can all agree on that. However, living a creative life can bring peace and satisfaction. And it can bolster your self-esteem. That’s really the function of art. It’s to allow creative people to transfer their existential anxiety onto an object (sublimation), into music, or onto a written page. I’ll talk more about this in a minute. So, we make art to keep our neurosis in check. To bring us meaning and significance and to quell our death anxiety. That’s the function of art. And if people like it after all of that, great! But that’s not the reason or function of art.

THE TWO THINGS THAT I HAVE GREAT CONFIDENCE IN SAYING ARE TRUE
I’ve studied the theories of Ernest Becker, Solomon, et al. (TMT) since 2018. And for the past two years, I’ve engaged with these ideas more deeply than I ever have before. Through these studies, I’m convinced of a couple of things.

CREATING ART IS TERROR MANAGEMENT
First, creating art is done in the service of terror management (TMT). One of the ubiquitous characteristics of human art throughout history and across cultures is the attempt to come to terms with mortality and achieve symbolic forms of immortality. In essence, saying, “I was here” or “remember me!” And the act itself buffers our existential dread. I’m convinced of that. There have been many philosophers, even beyond Becker, who have eluded to this. Peter Zapfee called in sublimation. He said it was the best form of terror management, but few people could do it. He wrote in his essay, The Last Messiah (1933), "Sublimation is the refocusing of energy away from negative outlets toward positive ones. Through stylistic or artistic gifts, the very pain of living can sometimes be converted into valuable experiences. Positive impulses engage the evil and put it to their own ends, fastening onto its pictorial, dramatic, heroic, lyric, or even comic aspects. To write a tragedy, one must to some extent free oneself from—betray—the very feeling of tragedy and regard it from an outer, e.g., aesthetic, point of view. Here is, by the way, an opportunity for the wildest round-dancing through ever higher ironic levels into a most embarrassing circulus vitiosus. Here one can chase one's ego across numerous habitats, enjoying the capacity of the various layers of consciousness to dispel one another. The present essay is a typical attempt at sublimation. The author does not suffer; he is filling pages and is going to be published in a journal."

Ernest Becker wrote, “Both the artist and the neurotic bite off more than they can chew, but the artist spews it back out again and chews it over in an objectified way, as an external, active work project. The neurotic can’t marshal this creative response embodied in a specific work, and so he chokes on his introversions.”

In essence, we’re all neurotic to some degree. It’s part and parcel of the dilemma of existing. The creative life offers something that no other form of terror management can: a literal outlet for existential terror.

Becker goes on to say, "The only way to work on perfection is in the form of an objective work that is fully under your control and is perfectible in some real ways. Either you eat up yourself and others around you, trying for perfection; or you objectify that imperfection in a work, on which you then unleash your creative powers. In this sense, some kind of objective creativity is the only answer man has to the problem of life.

The creative person becomes, in art, literature, and religion the mediator of natural terror and the indicator of a new way to triumph over it. He reveals the darkness and the dread of the human condition and fabricates a new symbolic transcendence over it. This has been the function of the creative deviant from the shamans through Shakespeare.

Otto Rank asked why the artist so often avoids clinical neurosis when he is so much a candidate for it because of his vivid imagination, his openness to the finest and broadest aspects of experience, his isolation from the cultural world-view that satisfies everyone else. The answer is that he takes in the world, but instead of being oppressed by it he reworks it in his own personality and recreates it in the work of art. The neurotic is precisely the one who cannot create.” Ernest Becker, The Denial of Death, 1973

TRIBALISM AND “OTHERING”
And secondly, the way we form tribes and go after the “other” whoever that may be to you. This is what my project (In the Shadow of Sun Mountain: The Psychology of Othering and the Origins of Evil) is about. I’m explaining the reasons for genocide, ethnocide, racism, xenophobia, hate, etc. through these theories. I’ve found that people often talk about these events but never give any solid reasons for why they happen. That’s one of my objectives in this work. I’ve also written quite an extensive section about my own journey. Starting with my own death awareness around the age of eight. I share life stories of death, othering, and the negative effects of in-groups and out-groups. In all of that, I revisited my interest in photography. How I started, what I’ve been interested in, and how this work is really the culmination of 35 plus years of thinking, wondering, and pursuing these ideas.

I recently read a great article on Alternet.org by Bobby Azarian. He is a cognitive neuroscientist and the author of the book The Romance of Reality: How the Universe Organizes Itself to Create Life, Consciousness, and Cosmic Complexity. He wrote, "Terror management theory is more relevant than ever because it provides an explanation for tribalism, which is really at the core of this mystery. The theory suggests that existential terror—which can be triggered by anything that is perceived to pose a threat to one’s existence—is the reason we adopt cultural worldviews, such as our religions, national identities, or political ideologies. In an attempt to mitigate our fears, we latch onto philosophies that give our lives meaning and direction in a chaotic world.

But how does this explain tribalism, exactly?

When we're fearful or threatened, we rally around those who share our worldviews. We become aggressive toward those who don't. More alarmingly, perceived threats or existential fears—immigrants, transgender people, gun grabbing, government conspiracies, humiliation at the hands of "liberal elites”—can stir up nationalism and sway voting habits toward presidential candidates with authoritarian personalities. For example, a study found that when primed to think about their deaths, American students who self-identified as conservatives showed increased support for drastic military interventions that could lead to mass civilian casualties overseas. Another study found that after the 9/11 terror attack, support for then-President George W. Bush spiked, ultimately resulting in his re-election."

My journey studying these theories has been life-altering. I find myself more understanding of human behavior and more tolerant and patient. I’m more open to people’s beliefs and what they lean on to quell their anxiety. As long as their beliefs aren’t hurting themselves or anyone else, I say go for it; we need to find meaning and significance in our lives to make this journey bearable.

I’m grateful and humble (or try to be) for each day I’m above ground. I’m in awe of life and the mystery of it all—my finitude and smallness are always present in my mind; I’m fully present to my cosmic insignificance. I understand that I really don’t know anything, and what I do know is very limited and only in a certain context. I have very little certainty about anything (save what I mentioned in this essay). Life is wonderful, but rarely, if ever, is it black and white. I walk in the world of the “hard place,” not the “rock place.” We are all trying our best to manage our existential terror, whether we know it or not, and most don’t.

Don't Worry About Other People's Opinion of Your Work

Over the past few weeks, I’ve had a few conversations with people about making art. One topic seemed to always come up in these chats. In essence, they ask or imply, “What if people don’t like what I do or don’t understand it?” Or even, “People don’t like what I do, and they don't understand it. I don’t get very many likes or comments on social media.”

Addressing the issue of people not liking or responding to your work (social media “likes” and “comments") can be a big deterrent. And it can be a bit depressing and frustrating too. But that’s only if you give it credence or value. It’s your choice, whether you do or not. I can say with some certainty that it’s a waste of time to be concerned with what other people think about your creative endeavors, whether on social media or not; their feedback, for the most part, is meaningless. There’s an old quote attributed to a lot of different people that says, "When you’re 20, You care what everyone thinks. When you’re 40, You stop caring what everyone thinks. When you’re 60, You realize no one was ever thinking about you in the first place." I’ll be 60 years old soon and can relate to the wisdom here. Apply it to your creative life. It will make you a better artist.

This is looking west-southwest from our house. We were walking back from the top of our property and saw this. The “circle” of clouds and the ray of light on Saddleback Mountain (the far peak) were magnificient.

My response to this dilemma has always been the same: Make your work for an audience of one: YOU. That’s all that matters. This only applies if you’re making personal, fine art work. Commercial work is a different story. With that, you are bound to please a much larger audience, and it’s in pursuit of money (that’s its purpose). It’s very easy for me to separate the two. Personal work has a strong, compelling narrative. Commercial work pays no mind to that. It’s pretty and popular. It’s a transaction for money, not an expression of an idea, concern, question, interest, etc. What the masses want is something familiar and safe. Something that takes no chances and is rarely ever different. It’s what sells. Money is the object, not expression. Period. Remember the difference; that’s an important piece of understanding what you’re trying to do.

“When you’re 20, You care what everyone thinks, When you’re 40, You stop caring what everyone thinks, When you’re 60, You realize no one was ever thinking about you in the first place.”

— Unknown

That brings me to my second point. If you make creative work with the intention of selling it, you’re probably off to a dubious start. Influence is incessant. Making money can really mess with accessing your own creative desires. You can see how easily you’d cross that line into commercial work. And once you cross over, you’re not making work for yourself; you’re making work for them. It kills your creative vibe (in a personal sense).

I’ve said it a million times: I have nothing against commercial work. Good on you if you do it and it fills your bank account. My concerns are about not conflating commercial work with personal expression, narrative, or personal fine art. I couldn’t care less for commercial work. I have absolutely no interest in it. I’m not in the least bit concerned about selling, showing, winning awards, or anything else with my work. I make it for personal reasons, reasons that I’ve explained many times in these essays.

Carry on doing work that motivates you. If others like it or can appreciate it, great! But never make that a priority. And I would recommend that you separate making money from your creative life. Keep your creative spirit free from the poison of commerce. It destroys your soul in that context. Earn your money some other way; keep your artmaking separate and special. Enjoy every day that you can create something, or even try to create something. Reveal the failures, learn from them, and be grateful. You will be amazed at where you find yourself mentally and creatively.

In the next few weeks, I’ll share what I’ve been working on in the studio. I guess you could call it an evolution of this work. I’m super excited about it. Stay tuned!!

Gunnison's Mariposa Lily and Fibonacci Star Blossom

Cosmetics are still vitally important for “good grooming” in the twenty-first century. Women spend more money on makeup and skin care every year than the United Nations spends on all its agencies and funds. New cosmetics, new styles, and new fads come and go, but they all result in part from the age-old universal human disdain for bodies in their natural state.

But beauty comes at a high price, and achieving and maintaining it often involves both physical and financial pain. Hair receives considerable attention in all cultures. Although human hair grows prolifically, people are nowhere near as hairy as our closest primate relatives. Nevertheless, we have always hated the stuff. Hairy bodies have always been associated with uncivilized, amoral, sexually promiscuous, or perverted animality.

Google “body hair” and you will get about 33.5 million hits, nearly all related to ways to get rid of it. Hair removal or alteration, especially of the face, eyebrows, underarms, legs, and pubic regions, is an ancient and widespread practice in all cultures. The Egyptians used razors, pumice stones, and depilatory creams to get rid of body hair. Julius Caesar had his facial hair extracted with tweezers and shaved his entire body (especially before sex). In Ars Amatoria (The Art of Love), the Roman poet Ovid advised young women to “let no rude goat find his way beneath your arms, and let not your legs be rough with bristling hair.” Today, Brazilian waxes and manscaping have become de rigueur for many young women and men.

Hairstyles and makeup are part of the transformation from animal to human, but these are temporary measures. Hair grows back in unruly ways and unexpected places; makeup fades or runs. Consequently, more radical and permanent body modifications are also deployed. American parents mortified by the sight of their metal-studded offspring who need ratchet wrenches to get through airport security will perhaps be comforted by the fact that such practices are ancient and universal. Remnants of ear and nose rings from four thousand years ago have been found in the Middle East. Egyptian pharaohs pierced their navels. Roman soldiers spiked their nipples. The Aztecs and Mayans pierced their tongues. Genital piercing was widespread for both males and females. The “Prince Albert,” today’s most frequently sported penis piercing, was favored by Queen Victoria’s husband. (The Worm at the Core: On the Role of Death in Life,” page 126)

“Mariposa Lily and Deer Antler,” 10” x 10” (25,4 x 25,4 cm) RA-4 Reversal Direct Color Print, July 28, 2023

A tea of the plant was taken internally by Native Americans to treat rheumatic swellings and to ease the delivery of the placenta. The juice of the leaves was applied to pimples.

“Five Star Fibonacci Sequence: A Blooming Flower,” 10” x 10” (25,4 x 25,4 cm) RA-4 Reversal Direct Color Print, July 28, 2023

“The Fibonacci Sequence turns out to be the key to understanding how nature designs... and is... a part of the same ubiquitous music of the spheres that builds harmony into atoms, molecules, crystals, shells, suns, and galaxies and makes the Universe sing.” ~ Guy Murchie, The Seven Mysteries of Life: An Exploration of Science and Philosophy

The Tabeguache Band of Colorado: Known Today as The Uncompahgre Ute

The Ute, pronounced as "yoot," refer to themselves as the Noochew or Nuuchui, meaning "Ute People." The term "Utah," the name of the state, originates from the Spanish word "Yutah," which describes the Ute as the "high land" or "land of the sun."

Renowned for their courage, some historians believe the Ute possessed comparable skill and cunning to the Apaches. In the past, they occupied an expansive territory of approximately 79 million acres in the Great Basin region. Their extensive travels through the picturesque mountainous landscapes of the Western region led them to establish trails, the remnants of which proved invaluable to the white settlers who eventually displaced them.

Early observers noted the remarkable proficiency of Ute women in tanning hides, which served as valuable trade items and were used for clothing. They adeptly worked with buffalo, deer, elk, and mountain sheep hides. Ute women typically adorned themselves in long, belted dresses, leggings, and moccasins. Meanwhile, men wore shirts, leggings, and moccasins for their daily activities, reserving elaborate feathered headdresses for special occasions. During times of conflict, many men painted their bodies and faces using yellow and black pigments. Women occasionally painted their faces and adorned their hair partings. Some Ute individuals pierced their noses, inserting small, polished animal bones, while others tattooed their faces using cactus thorns dipped in ashes. Both men and women occasionally wore necklaces crafted from animal claws, bones, fish skeletons, and juniper seeds.

Early Ute ceremonies involved clothing embellishments such as paint, hair fringes, rows of elk teeth, or brightly dyed porcupine quills. Later, as the Ute acquired beads from European traders, their costumes incorporated intricate beadwork.

The Ute held two significant ceremonies—the Sun Dance and the Bear Dance—which continue to be performed annually.

The Sun Dance reflects a personal desire for spiritual power provided by the Great Spirit, but each dancer also represents their family and community, transforming the dance into a communal sharing experience. The Sun Dance is based on a fable about a man and a woman who left their tribe amid a severe famine. During their voyage, they discovered a deity who taught them the Sun Dance practices. When they returned to their tribe and performed the ceremony, a herd of buffalo appeared, putting an end to the hunger.

The Sun Dance ceremony encompasses several days of clandestine rituals followed by a public dance around a Sun Dance pole, symbolizing the connection to the Creator. These rituals involve fasting, prayer, smoking, and the preparation of ceremonial objects.

Describing a modern Sun Dance atop Sleeping Ute Mountain, journalist Jim Carrier recounted, "Night and day, for four days, the dancers charged the pole and retreated, back and forth in a personal gait. There were shuffles, hops, and a prancing kick. While they blew whistles made from eagle bones, their bare feet marked a 25-foot (7.5-kilometer) path in the dirt."

The Bear Dance, conducted annually in the spring, venerates the grizzly bear, revered by the Ute for imparting strength, wisdom, and survival skills. In earlier times, the Bear Dance coincided with the bears emerging from hibernation and aimed to awaken the bears to guide the Ute towards bountiful sources of nuts and berries. The dance served as a joyous social occasion after enduring a harsh winter.

The Bear Dance involves constructing a sizable circular enclosure made of sticks, representing a bear's den. Music played within the enclosure symbolizes the thunder that rouses the slumbering bears. The dance follows a "lady's choice" tradition, allowing Ute women to show their preference for a certain man. The Bear Dance ceremony traditionally lasted for four days and four nights. The dancers wore plumes that they would leave on a cedar tree at the east entrance of the corral. Leaving the feathers behind represented discarding past troubles and starting fresh.

MY PHOTOGRAPHS AS RESIDUE
My photographs for this project are what I consider residue. Residue is a small amount of something that remains after the main part has gone, been taken, or been used. It’s a lot like memory. The function of photography is to somehow "show" the memories and residue of a person, place, or thing.

I’m approaching these ideas indirectly. It’s a conscious choice to make the work somewhat abstract, like all memories are. This isn’t a documentary project, although it’s difficult to put anything in a box. There are elements that seem to fit, at least somewhat, into the documentary category. However, I would never consider this work documentary photography. The context and narrative provide the direction of the work. It’s my personal journey to discover answers to questions that I’ve wrestled with for decades. There’s no doubt it’s interdisciplinary work, combining art and several disciplines in the sciences and psychology. I think that’s what makes it interesting.

The book, in context, will give the reader and viewer an insight, not only about my journey but also about the human condition and what knowledge of our mortality does to us. I connect the events of the 19th century clearly to the theories of death anxiety and terror management theory. I show both the beauty of the land as well as inferring the loss. I show life as well as death through the flora and landscape photographs. My hope is that for those who read it, it will inspire and enlighten. That it will bring forward the beauty of life and appreciation of the awe that surrounds us, as well as an understanding of how evil is manifested in our human condition.

“Mountain Bell Cactus and White Granite,” 10” x 10” (25,4 x 24,4cm) RA-4 Reversal Direct Color Print, June 29, 2023 Pediocactus simpsonii, or Mountain Ball Cactus, is a species that grows at high altitudes in the Rocky Mountains of Colorado.

What Will They Think?

Every day, I find myself exploring questions that I never had time to deeply consider before. In the quiet moments, which are few and far between in the modern world, the big questions are only briefly on our minds, and we move on. We never discuss them or have time to deeply think about them.

I was always too busy, distracted, and “tranquilizing with the trivial.” I wasn’t any different than most people. I tried to fight through it by making art and occasionally inquiring about the big questions. I was successful at times, but the culturally constructed life consumed most of my thoughts and actions; mere survival (my relationships, my financial life, paying the bills, my job, my career) always took precedence and walled me off from the bigger life and death questions.

I was constantly trying to fulfill my social role and bolster my self-esteem, like most people do (like culturally constructed meat puppets). Now, I’m afforded time—time that I’ve never had before. I rarely pay attention to the time of day or day of the week. Most of the time, I get up with the sun and go to bed when it’s dark. I lose track of time working in my darkroom and studio.

“The more powerful and original a mind, the more it will incline towards the religion of solitude.”

— Aldous Huxley

What a gift it is to live among the black bears, mountain lions, and wild turkeys! I walk in nature every day under and beside the big Ponderosa Pine, Douglas Fir, and Aspen trees with Jeanne (or every chance I get, weather permitting). I get to see the beautiful mountains and landscape, the wildlife, and breathe fresh mountain air. To see the red-tailed hawks soaring over the mountains, the bluejays gathering food, and the hummingbirds getting busy for summer is a beautiful thing.

I live a life infused with peace, quiet, and solitude. What freedom! I’ve never really experienced those things before, and I am beyond grateful to have them. It’s radically changed me for the better. I’m closer to living an authentic life than I’ve ever been before. It’s a process, but I’m aware of it and working on it. The first step to change and improvement is to recognize what’s wrong.

Time can be a dangerous thing to have. If people could spend a few months without the hustle and bustle of being a culturally constructed meat puppet, they would begin to become self-aware. They would begin focusing on the important things and devoting their time and energy to them. Self-awareness leads to understanding and the strength to face uncomfortable ideas and make changes. Our culture doesn’t want us to do that. They want us preoccupied with conspicuous consumption, shopping, alcohol, drugs, fashion, pursuing wealth and popularity, and all of the other malignant ways we use to buffer our existential anxiety.

With time to deeply think about what it means to be human, face mortality, and ponder meaning and significance in your life, you learn how tiny you are and how finite and meaningless (cosmically speaking) you are. You can start to grasp the implications of knowing that you will die and be forgotten. You deal with impermanence and insignificance in a healthy, life-affirming way, not in a death-denying, destructive way (like a meat puppet).

You begin to see humility as a great asset and understand how gratitude will buttress existential terror. You’re in awe of life every day. I’m learning this now. We live in a death-denying culture. I’m doing my very best, through my photographic work, my writing, and these essays, to unpack what it means to come to terms with mortality and be an authentic man.

“Seeded Mullein and Antlers” May 16, 2023, 10” x 10” (25,4 x 25.4 cm) (Made in camera, no negative) RA-4 Reversal Color Direct Print-Mullein is a relaxing, calming smoke that soothes the lungs and opens up air passageways. It’s smooth smoking with a mild flavor and aroma; it is a profound respiratory tonic that opens the lungs and softens coughs, soothes irritation, and reduces dryness. Antlers were used by Native Americans in many ways, including pipes.

Lately, I’ve been thinking about our need for symbolic immortality. Ernest Becker called these efforts “immortality projects.” I can relate to this need and this desire, all while knowing that it’s a fool’s errand to pursue. What will people think of me in a hundred or a thousand years? What will they think of my work? The answer is they won’t and nothing.

However, the work we do or the projects we pursue fulfill a greater purpose. They give our lives meaning and significance. That’s extremely important. It is all ephemeral and means nothing in the cosmic scheme of things. It’s absolutely meaningless that way. As an artist, it’s my way of keeping death anxiety at bay.

Acknowledging this fact has made me even more interested in making pictures and writing about our existence as people living with death anxiety. It’s brought me joy and made me happy. I want to live with the fact that what I do is meaningful in buffering my own death anxiety; it’s my terror management, but I want to embrace its cosmic meaninglessness without having fear or dread.

Peter Zapffe called it sublimation. In his essay “The Last Messiah,” he said, “The fourth remedy against panic, sublimation, is a matter of transformation rather than repression. Through stylistic or artistic gifts can the very pain of living at times be converted into valuable experiences. Positive impulses engage the evil and put it to their own ends, fastening onto its pictorial, dramatic, heroic, lyric or even comic aspects.”

He suggests that sublimation involves transforming one's pain, suffering, and anxiety into something positive and valuable through artistic or stylistic expression.

Rather than simply repressing or denying their existential terror, individuals can channel it into creative works such as art, literature, music, or poetry. This can give their suffering meaning and purpose, as well as offer a sense of catharsis or release. By engaging with the darker aspects of life in a creative way, individuals can transform their pain into something that is not only bearable but even beautiful or inspiring.

Zapffe notes that this approach requires a certain level of skill and talent in the arts but suggests that anyone can benefit from engaging with creative expression in some way. By finding ways to channel their pain and suffering into something productive and meaningful, individuals can confront the difficult aspects of existence in a way that is both honest and life-affirming.

I’ve embedded the trailer for the film “Flight from Death: The Quest for Immortality” below. I highly encourage you to see this film. On Saturday, May 20, 2023, I'll be attending an online symposium called “Ernest Becker, Terror Management Theory, and Death Acceptance: An Online Symposium Celebrating 50 Years of The Denial of Death, With Caitlin Doughty & Sheldon Solomon.” There are a lot of great speakers, and I’m excited to hear about new ideas and expound on existing theories. The gentleman who made the film “Flight from Death: The Quest for Immortality” will be speaking. Also, he’ll be releasing a biopic on Ernest Becker later this year. That’s exciting news for me!

“When you remember me, it means that you have carried something of who I am with you, that I have left some mark of who I am on who you are. It means that you can summon me back to your mind even though countless years and miles may stand between us. It means that if we meet again, you will know me. It means that even after I die, you can still see my face and hear my voice and speak to me in your heart.
For as long as you remember me, I am never entirely lost. When I’m feeling most ghost-like, it is your remembering me that helps remind me that I actually exist. When I’m feeling sad, it’s my consolation. When I’m feeling happy, it’s part of why I feel that way.
If you forget me, one of the ways I remember who I am will be gone. If you forget, part of who I am will be gone.”

— Frederick Buechner, Whistling in the Dark: A Doubter's Dictionary

“Seeded Mullein - Detail)” May 16, 2023, 10” x 10” (25,4 x 25.4 cm) (Made in camera, no negative) RA-4 Reversal Color Direct Print.

“ANTIDOTES TO FEAR OF DEATH

Sometimes as an antidote
To fear of death,
I eat the stars.

Those nights, lying on my back,
I suck them from the quenching dark
Til they are all, all inside me,
Pepper hot and sharp.

Sometimes, instead, I stir myself
Into a universe still young,
Still warm as blood:

No outer space, just space,
The light of all the not yet stars
Drifting like a bright mist,
And all of us, and everything
Already there
But unconstrained by form.

And sometime it’s enough
To lie down here on earth
Beside our long ancestral bones:

To walk across the cobble fields
Of our discarded skulls,
Each like a treasure, like a chrysalis,
Thinking: whatever left these husks
Flew off on bright wings.”

— Rebecca Elson

The Influence of Color

“in·flu·ence (noun) the capacity to have an effect on the character, development, or behavior of someone or something, or the effect itself.”

— Oxford Dictionary

I love paintings. I always have. I’ve said many times that I’m a "frustrated painter." I’ve always said that one day I'd learn to paint. That may still happen. For now, I’m exploring the emotional influence that color prints bring to my photographic work (In the Shadow of Sun Mountain). The "vibration" of color, to use Marc Chagall's term, influences and moves me more as I produce more prints. I see it and, moreover, I feel it.

As I work through my ideas, I find what I’m attracted to is the "life vibrations," or the depth of life, that the colors bring to the subject matter. In other words, there is a poetry or feeling that they give where the monochrome fails. As an artist, you’re always searching for the right tool to use to make your work successful. The color prints are the correct tool for this work. I’m convinced.

“Cactus People With Water Vessel” May 14, 2023, 10” x 10” (25,4 x 25.4 cm) (Made in camera, no negative) RA-4 Reversal Color Direct Print I used my Derogy (1864) Petzval lens for this image. The beautiful fall-off, or depth of field, is like a half-remembered dream.

Working in the RA-4 reversal process has given me a lot of new ways to approach making photographs, too. The paper is quite “fast” (ISO)—I rate it at ISO 6 or 8 with the filter pack I’m using. That means I can work at times of the day and early evening that I was never able to with wet or dry collodion, let alone paper negatives. Also, I can “stop down” my lenses to gain depth of field and still manage to make exposures in seconds, not minutes. This opens an entirely new world for me. That’s very exciting, and I’m looking forward to the summer here and making this work come alive!

I see how this project has evolved over the two years I’ve been working on it. And I hope it will continue to evolve. I stay open and aware of that. For me, it has two layers: the personal exploration of our denial of death and terror management theory. This is the foundation for telling the story of the Tabeguache Ute, what happened to them here, and, more importantly, why it happened.

The second layer is more abstract, concerning poetry, beauty, and the life-affirming examination of mortality. For me, this is the perfect narrative. I have “skin in the game," given my preoccupation with marginal communities and the psychology that drives human behavior. And I have a love of the mystery of life and how beautiful it can be. My objectives have nothing to do with “self-help” or offering to analyze people’s lives through these psychological theories. It’s more about sharing my self-awareness and what that means for me. Also, there is a big part of it that is based on how these theories have driven human behavior and historical events. In the end, it’s both historical and personal, terrifying and beautiful. I feel like the color component helps me translate these kinds of concepts better than monochrome work. It elevates both the work and the concepts.

“Awe, humility and gratitude effectively mitigate death anxiety.”

— Sheldon Solomon

Color is now a primary tool for me to communicate the nuances and beauty of the place where I live. Through the color, I can talk about the history and events that took place here with a subtlety that I didn’t possess before. I know now that I’ll start (and have already started) incorporating visual ideas that represent the concepts of consciousness, death anxiety, awe, humility, and gratitude. I want to show how facing the existential anxieties that we all have can be resolved (or at least managed) through deeply reflecting on yourself, having true self-awareness, and being authentic.

Life is both beautiful and terrifying—that’s the paradox we face. Choosing to be death-forward (in the words of Heidegger) and working toward that horizon of opportunity to have a “turning” in your life is the goal. We will never be free from death anxiety. It will always be there. We can, however, learn to be in awe, be humble (not self-deprecating but understanding your position in the universe), and most of all, be grateful and have gratitude for life. It will end, no doubt, but we can strive toward being thoughtful, self-aware, open, and honest every day. Like Socrates said, examine yourself, be honest, and move toward the good.

“The bottom line is this: Terror Management Theory may seem like a dark and depressing topic, but it can actually shed a lot of light on the ways that we as humans strive to find meaning and purpose in a world that can sometimes seem bleak and meaningless. By understanding the ways that we cope with our mortality, we can begin to develop more positive and life-affirming strategies for dealing with the existential terror that is an inevitable part of the human experience.”

— Mark Manson

“Cactus People With Water Vessel” May 14, 2023, 10” x 10” (25,4 x 25.4 cm) (Made in camera, no negative) RA-4 Reversal Color Direct Print I used my Derogy (1864) Petzval lens for this image. I’ve made hundreds of portraits with this lens. I can control color with exposure—the length of exposure will warm or cool the image color. Absolutely amazing!

Culturally Constructed Meat Puppets and Martin Heidegger

Reading through The Worm at the Core brings awareness to so many other ideas and extensions of these theories. I’ve been getting into Martin Heidegger and his ideas lately. His book (a set of lectures), “Being and Time” is available on archive.org. Forewarning: It’s a difficult book to read. It’s dense, and I don’t understand a lot of it. It was originally written in German, and the translator claimed that it was very difficult to translate into English (some say it’s impossible to translate). He was an extraordinary thinker—way beyond my capabilities to understand. There are some “nuggets” in the book. One of them, pointed out by Sheldon Solomon, is the quote in this essay. That’s what I’m most intrigued by.

Having lived in Germany and having a basic understanding of the language, the word “angst” is used a lot in his writing. I’ve always understood the word to mean “fear.” Most translate it to “anxiety.” What it really means is a feeling of uneasiness, or "dis-ease," or a feeling of not “being at home” (not in the literal sense of home, but psychologically). Heidegger gives a clear and compelling solution to overcoming, or at least coming to terms with, death and death anxiety. Kierkegaard offered a solution of taking a “leap into faith,” and Heidegger offers the same idea, but instead of faith, he says, “take a leap into life.” You can read the deconstruction of his philosophy below.

Another thing that I’ve been giving thought to is a “flowchart” of terror management theory. Breaking it down into a simple, line-by-line evolution of what happens to human beings in life as it applies to coping with the knowledge of death:

• You were born.

• You cry, scream, and shake; miraculously, a “deity figure(s)" (parents or caregivers) appears and your diaper is changed, you’re fed, or you're cuddled. Life is good.

• You grow older and lean on your parents or caregivers for psychological security as well as all of your Maslow needs (shelter, food, warmth, etc.).

• You grow through childhood and the teenage years, learning how to bolster your self-esteem. Your parents or caregivers provide the framework and reward for this. For example, when you learn to use the toilet, “Good boy or girl!” You earn top grades on your schoolwork. “Great job!” You go to the school prom, and everyone says, “You look so pretty or handsome!” This bolsters your self-esteem; you feel significant and have meaning in your life. Death anxiety is held at bay.

• You learn how to respect and honor your country or tribe (Americans put their hands over their hearts and say “the pledge of allegiance”) and the important symbols from your culture: a flag, a cross, a star, a uniform, etc.

• You attend religious services with your parents and learn how to be a “good person” and how to achieve immortality through a religion; this provides psychological security and buffers death anxiety. You know that you will never really die! Life is meaningful, and I have a purpose; my religion says so!

• You separate from your parents or caregivers as a young adult. Now, you look to your culture for the same psychological security that your parents or caregivers provided.

• You quickly learn what your culture rewards and what it doesn’t. This is how your cultural worldview is established and maintained. For example, you might belong to a particular religion you strongly believe in or a political group you adamantly embrace. You might get a promotion at your job, be recognized as “employee of the month,” get a degree from higher education, earn a lot of money, drive a fancy car, live in a big house, get a lot of “likes” on social media, etc. These all provide self-esteem for you. Self-esteem buffers death anxiety. It’s kept repressed and buried deep in your unconscious. In fact, some of you reading this will proclaim, “What are you talking about? This doesn’t apply to me; I don’t think about death!” Exactly. See how well it works? When you’re ensconced in your cultural worldview, it will keep thoughts of death repressed, at least for the most part.

• You go through life wrapped in the illusions that your culture provides—religion, community, politics, relationships, etc. They give you a feeling of significance in a meaningful world (psychological security). This keeps existential anxiety at bay, for the most part.

• You are, at this point, a culturally constructed meat puppet.

• If you are one of the unlucky ones or live in a culture that either doesn’t provide ways for you to bolster your self-esteem or that offers ways that are unattainable for the average person, i.e., not everyone can be a movie star, a rock star, a professional athlete, or the president of the United States, this can, and often does, extend to physical appearance as well. If you’re not thin (especially women) and stay young forever, the culture can be harsh and not only prevent you from getting self-esteem, it will point out your faults and shortcomings: you’re fat, you’re old, you're the wrong color, you have wrinkly skin and gray hair, etc.

• When a person cannot find ways to bolster their self-esteem, they will often turn to drugs, alcohol, eating, shopping, narcissistic behavior, social media, and different kinds of risky behaviors. The 19th-century philosopher Soren Kierkegaard called this “tranquilizing with the trivial.” One of the reasons the United States has such a high rate of drug abuse, depression, anxiety, and deaths of despair, including those that die by suicide, is because the culture sets standards for attaining self-esteem that are not attainable for the average American.

• According to Martin Heidegger, if one ceases to numb oneself to the knowledge of one's own mortality, known as "flight from death," and instead undergoes what he termed a "turning," they may discover a newfound sense of ease with death anxiety and the inherent truths of the human condition. This turning leads to a greater appreciation for life's simple yet profound pleasures, such as recognizing the beauty in virtuous individuals, the finite nature of humanity, the majesty of nature, or even something as seemingly mundane as a refreshing breeze on a sweltering day.

• Both Frederick Nietzsche and Ernest Becker discussed the concept of the "authentic man" in their respective philosophical works.

  Nietzsche believed that the authentic man was one who lived according to his own values and ideals, rather than those imposed upon him by society or tradition. For Nietzsche, the authentic man was a "free spirit," unencumbered by conventional morality or religious dogma. He argued that the authentic man was capable of creating his own values and living a fulfilling life, rather than being constrained by the values of others.

  Becker, on the other hand, believed that the authentic man was one who had come to terms with his own mortality and the inevitability of death. He argued that in order to live a meaningful life, one must confront the reality of death and the limitations of human existence. For Becker, the authentic man was one who had overcome the fear of death and embraced life fully, without illusions or delusions.

  In both cases, the authentic man is someone who is true to himself and lives a life that is genuinely his own. Nietzsche emphasizes the importance of individuality and creativity in this process, while Becker emphasizes the importance of confronting one's mortality and accepting the limitations of human existence. This is the antithesis of a culturally constructed meat puppet.

Culturally Constructed Meat Puppet

The Terror Management Theory (TMT), which is based on Becker's ideas, suggests that individuals cope with the inevitability of death by developing their self-esteem and identifying with their cultural group. This allows them to feel significant and have a sense of purpose and meaning in their lives.

However, there is a risk associated with this approach, as individuals may become "culturally constructed meat puppets" who are entirely dependent on their roles and conform to cultural standards for their sense of self-worth.

Becker's theory also explains why people tend to fear and dislike those who hold different beliefs or belong to different groups. When reminded of their mortality, people often become more strongly identified with their own groups and view outsiders as the embodiment of evil. This can result in animosity and even violence toward those who are different.

The idea of a “culturally constructed meat puppet” is meant to highlight the tension between our biological nature and our cultural aspirations. On the one hand, we are flesh-and-blood creatures that are subject to the laws of nature. On the other hand, we are aware that we need to create meaning and purpose through our engagement with our culture.

Are you a culturally constructed meat puppet? Humans are like hamsters on a wheel, spinning around and around and going nowhere—or like Sisyphus pushing the rock up the mountain only to have it roll back down over and over again. We do these things every day to distract ourselves from the knowledge of death. Beware of insatiable desires—money and stuff.

Martin Heidegger

Martin Heidegger (1889–1976) was a German philosopher who is widely regarded as one of the most important and influential philosophers of the 20th century. He is known for his highly original and complex philosophy, which deals with a wide range of topics including ontology (the study of being), phenomenology, hermeneutics (the study of interpretation), and existentialism.

Heidegger's most famous work is Being and Time, published in 1927, which is widely regarded as one of the most important philosophical works of the 20th century. In this book, Heidegger explores the nature of human existence and the relationship between being and time. He argues that human beings are fundamentally "thrown" into the world, meaning that we find ourselves in a particular time and place, and we must make sense of this situation through our own existence.

Heidegger's philosophy is highly influenced by his interest in ancient Greek philosophy as well as his experiences living in Germany during the 20th century. His political views, which included membership in the Nazi party in the early 1930s, have been the subject of controversy and criticism, but his philosophical ideas continue to be studied and debated by scholars and philosophers around the world.

“Turning away from a flight from death, you see a horizon of opportunity that puts you in a state of anticipatory resoluteness with solicitous regard for others that makes your life seem like an adventure perfused with unshakeable joy.”

— Martin Heidegger, Being and Time (1927)

This quote is a reflection of Martin Heidegger's philosophy, which places great emphasis on the concept of "being toward death." For Heidegger, death is not simply an event that happens to us at some point in the future but rather an essential aspect of our being. In other words, our mortality is not something we can escape or ignore; it is a fundamental part of who we are.

The quote suggests that if one confronts their mortality and does not try to flee from it, they may see a horizon of opportunities that can give their life a sense of purpose and direction. By embracing the inevitability of death, one can live with a sense of "anticipatory resoluteness," meaning that they are ready and willing to face whatever challenges come their way.

Additionally, Heidegger suggests that this attitude should be accompanied by "solicitous regard for others," meaning that we should also be concerned with the well-being of those around us. By living with this kind of awareness and consideration for others, one's life can become an "adventure perfused with unshakeable joy," filled with meaning and purpose.

Heidegger's quote highlights the importance of confronting our mortality and living with a sense of purpose and concern for others. It's a beautiful idea that everyone should work toward. The first step is to understand the true nature of your condition, without doing that, nothing changes.

RA-4 Reversal Color Prints

After 20+ years of working with wet and dry collodion (all variants), plus calotypes, daguerreotypes, and all of the P.O.P. processes you can imagine and some you can’t, people have asked why I’m working in color now. It’s a good question, and it's more than fair to ask why the big change—I’m happy to answer it.

If you’ve followed my journey on this project (“In the Shadow of Sun Mountain: The Psychology of Othering and the Origins of Evil"), you’ll know I’ve spent a lot of time connecting the craft to the concept. Throughout that discovery process, I felt something was lacking but couldn’t put my finger on it. Over the winter, I had a lot of time to write and think about what I'd been doing. What I discovered was that I’d been missing the beauty here; it was lacking in the photographs. Please don’t misunderstand me. I have some gorgeous negatives and prints in wet and dry collodion as well as paper negatives and prints. However, as I lived with them and looked at them over and over, I couldn’t help but see that they didn’t fully represent this gorgeous place where I live.

“Color is all. When color is right, form is right. Color is everything, color is vibration like music; everything is vibration.”

— Marc Chagall

How do you resolve that problem? For me, it was making work in color. I’ve written before about trying to paint the prints with watercolor, etc. It’s not the same. As I wrote my biography for my book, I wrote about the first photographic exhibition I had: polaroids. Gorgeous color, a little off with the color (like expired film), and very manipulated. Look up Lucas Samaras. This inspired me to go back to my “color days” in photography to resolve the “beauty” problem. I really enjoyed shooting Kodachrome and making Cibacrome (Ilfochrome) prints from the 35mm positives. I had experimented with direct color positives then too. So I revisited that, and here I am. This has been a boost for my creativity, and I’ve just started. You’ll see, over the spring and summer, what I do with this. It opens a lot of new and exciting possibilities for me. I absolutely love it!

I’m interested in the idea of memory. It’s one of the four words I’ve always used to make work: identity, difference, memory, and justice. These words are like legs on a table that support my work conceptually. I’ve tried to semiotically mirror these in the photographs I make.

“Drinking Vessel, Cactus, and Dried Barley” May 5, 2023, 10” x 10” (23,4 x 23, 4 cm) RA-4 Reversal direct color print.

“Drinking Vessel, Cactus, Quartz, and Dried Barley,” May 5, 2023, 10” x 10” (23,4 x 23,4 cm) RA-4 Reversal direct color print The “aurora borealis” artifacts in this print are very interesting to me; just like in wet or dry collodion or even paper negatives, the artifacts in these prints can be very appropriate for the concepts I’m working with.

Surreal

It was overcast the other day and just warm enough to get into the darkroom. I’ve been experimenting a lot with the direct color positive prints. So far, I like them a lot. As it gets warmer, I’ll push this process even more. There is a depth and beauty in these that’s not translating very well to the screen, but I wanted to show you the direction I’m going.

"I have a friend who's an artist and has sometimes taken a view with which I don't agree with very well. He'll hold up a flower and say, "Look how beautiful it is," and I'll agree. Then he says, “I, as an artist, can see how beautiful this is, but you, as a scientist, take this all apart and it becomes a dull thing," and I think that he's kind of nutty. First of all, the beauty that he sees is available to other people and, I believe, to me too. Although I may not be quite as refined aesthetically as he is... I can appreciate the beauty of a flower. At the same time, I see much more about the flower than he does. I could imagine the cells there and the complicated actions inside, which also have a beauty. I mean, it's not just beauty at this dimension, at one centimeter; there's also beauty at smaller dimensions, in the inner structure and the processes. The fact that the colors in the flower evolved in order to attract insects to pollinate it is interesting; it means that insects can see the color. It adds a question: does this aesthetic sense also exist in the lower forms? Why is it aesthetic? All kinds of interesting questions, which the science knowledge only adds to the excitement, the mystery, and the awe of a flower. It only adds “I don't understand how it subtracts."

- Richard P. Feynman, The Pleasure of Finding Things Out

The Evolution of a Body of Work (Photographs)-RA-4 Color Reversal Prints

For years, I’ve talked about the evolution of making a cohesive body of work—communicating a strong, solid narrative with photographs that support the narrative. I’ve tried to communicate how important it is to have a plan, how plans change, and how to adapt and move forward.

It’s important to know when you are “on course.” The course changes all the time; it’s a moving target until it isn’t. I’ve emphasized self-examination, authenticity, and honesty. That’s how you find the target and move with it until it stops and you hit the mark.

Of course, everyone is different. We struggle and fight with certain problems in different ways. And sometimes, what one person perceives as a problem, the other person embraces as a supporting element. It’s much harder to do this than it seems. The evidence is that very few people do it, and even fewer are really successful at it. For me, these ideas are at the core of making art, and I’m always working toward them.

The winter is ending here in the Rocky Mountains of Colorado (finally!). It’s been long and cold. The good part about that is that it’s given me a lot of time to write, research, and think. I’ve realized that making images constantly (all year long) might not be a good thing for me. I need a pause. I need time to evaluate, to ponder, and to deeply think about what I want to do and what I’m actually doing. I used to believe the work “revealed” itself as you made it, and you adjusted from there. That’s somewhat true, but you have to have something to evaluate it with—a matrix of some kind. Without that, you’re simply making “pretty, chocolate-box pictures,” again lost somewhere between the commercial world and the derivative or technical world. If your goal is fine art, those are not places you want to be.

I’ve had several changes over the past 18 months on my project, “In the Shadow of Sun Mountain: The Psychology of Othering and the Origins of Evil.” It started as a look at the Tabeguache-Utes that once occupied the land I live on, visually representing their land and their history. Then it evolved into a closer look at the events that drove them off of their lands and into prisoner of war camps (aka reservations). And now, it’s a full-on examination of the role of death anxiety and terror management theory—an examination of how these theories have driven human behavior and what it did to the Tabeguache-Ute and all of the other people throughout history that've suffered atrocities.

Ernest Becker was a cultural anthropologist and author who wrote extensively on the human condition and the nature of evil. According to Becker, the cause of evil in the world is rooted in the human condition itself. He believed that human beings are uniquely aware of their own mortality, which creates a fundamental sense of anxiety and dread. To cope with this anxiety, individuals create symbolic systems of meaning, such as religion and culture, which provide a sense of purpose and significance to repress existential terror (death anxiety). However, these symbolic systems can also lead to conflict and violence as individuals and groups become attached to their own particular worldview and seek to defend it at all costs. This can result in acts of aggression, oppression, and even genocide. That’s where I’ve been for a while with this work.

And now, the project takes another step toward its final form. Several months ago, I purchased a nice (French) watercolor set from an art store. I wanted to incorporate two things into the photographs: a painterly look and the beauty of this place, as abstract as that may be.

In reality, I’m more interested in revealing and celebrating the beauty here than anything else. I’ve always said, “I’m a frustrated painter.” And the idea of a painting—pre-photography—is appealing. A painting is a one-off, meaning it can’t be reproduced (copied, yes, but never another original). I’ve always embraced that about tintypes and ambrotypes. There is something very intriguing about having “only one”—a lot like human beings themselves, there is only one of you! That’s a wonderful and beautiful thing.

I’ve always liked a quote from the movie Beware of Images: "We live in an age of hyper-reality, where the authentic is gradually being eclipsed by its endless representations, where every new layer of mediation stands between us and the natural world, where forgeries have so viciously attacked the original that they now reign victorious in its place, and as the forgeries themselves are relentlessly replicated, we are left with infinite simulations of that which never existed." I can relate to this idea on many different levels. Look at AI, social media, etc. We’re in an Orwellian nightmare when it comes to this topic and how it’s affecting art and authenticity.

So, I want to incorporate color into this work. I was looking at some of my flora (plants) prints and lamented that the beautiful colors of the bright yellow Sneezeweed, the white-purple Slender Tube Skyrocket, the bright red of the Prairie-Fire, and the vivid purple of the Rocky Mountain Geranium weren’t there. It felt wrong. The landscapes here are gorgeous, but a lot of the time the wet and dry plate processes simply don’t capture that, nor do the paper negative or POP processes. They are beautiful in their own way, but I feel like I’m after something else.

“Blue Grama Grass (Dead)” 10” x 10” (25,4 x 25,4 cm), RA-4 Color Reversal Print an in-camera direct-positive made with an 1874 Derogy Petzval lens. April 7, 2023

Here I am with a watercolor set and POP prints. That won’t work either. It takes a skill set that I don’t possess. Maybe one day, but not for this. Now what?

In 1993, I had my first photographic exhibition. I transferred about 25 Polaroid pictures (manipulated) onto 6x6 and 8x8 cotton and linen paper; each photograph was accompanied by a poem communicating something about the human condition and the paradox of existence and consciousness.

The colors were crazy and worked very well for the narrative. The show was called “Visions in Mortality.” I wrote a lot about it in my new book because the influence of that show is affecting this work in a major way.

Now, over 30 years later, here I am again, asking questions about mortality and feeling nostalgic. This desire goes far beyond my connection with the original work in 1992. I want the elements in this work to esteem this place, to lift it up, and to show how beautiful it is—the only way I feel that can be accomplished is through color prints.

I dug in my quiver and found an arrow that points me back 30 years, back to my days in undergraduate school and processing reversal film (E-6), C-41, Cibachrome printing, and making C-Prints. It rang true for me to get back in the saddle and work this out.

Another thing that really pushed me toward this was after I watched Nan Goldin’s documentary, "All the Beauty and All the Bloodshed." The work of Goldin, Eggleston, and Samaras has had a big influence on me. Their work and style will be apparent in what I’m doing, but with my signature.

I’ve started making RA-4 reversal prints—color direct-positive prints. These are 10” x 10” (25.4 x 25.4 cm) and made with a Petzval lens. I have to color-correct, of course. The paper is tungsten-balanced (3200K), and I’m making images in 5600K–6000K+. There’s a learning curve, and nothing ever seems to be consistent. Oddly enough, I kind of like that. I want some serendipity in all of it; I’m not a machine, and I don’t want this work to look like a machine made it.

The technical isn’t important at this point, and I won’t be sharing a lot of the images, but I wanted to share what the evolution of this project looked like almost two years into it. And I might even offer to not think of yourself as “married” to a certain process or even photography itself. Allow the narrative to drive and support the medium.

Color photography has the power to convey a wide range of emotions and moods, as well as the beauty and complexity of the world around us. While black and white, or historic processes, have a classic and timeless appeal, the use of color can add an extra dimension of creativity and expression to a photographic work.

One way to think about the creative use of color in photography is to consider how different hues can be used to create a sense of mood or atmosphere. For example, warm colors like reds, yellows, and oranges can create a sense of energy and excitement, while cooler colors like blues and greens can evoke a feeling of calm and tranquility. By playing with the balance of colors in a photograph, an artist can create a sense of tension, harmony, or contrast that can add depth and meaning to the work. In other words, there is a lot to play with when using color. A wider palette of visual opportunities

Another way to think about color in photography is to consider how it can be used to draw attention to certain elements or aspects of the image. By using a bold or contrasting color in a particular area of the photograph, an artist can create a focal point that draws the viewer's eye and adds emphasis to that part of the composition. This can be especially effective when combined with other creative techniques, such as selective focus or composition, to create a sense of depth and perspective.

Overall, the creative use of color in photography can be a powerful tool for an artist looking to express themselves and capture the beauty and complexity of the world around them. By experimenting with different hues, tones, and shades and considering how color can be used to create mood, emphasis, and depth, an artist can create stunning work that's both beautiful and meaningful.