Considering Creativity

What does it mean to be creative? Does it mean you are witty, fun and different? Or that you can make tiny flowers from pieces of bread? Play cover songs in a band? How about writing an incredible document like Thomas Jefferson did? How do you define it? What are the qualities and how do you recognize them?

I've been spending a lot of time traveling and teaching wet plate collodion workshops all over Europe. In between the technical and the fun, I've had my ear, my mind and my heart bent toward the creative spirits I've met along the way. I'm not saying that I gave a lecture or an artist's talk and requested feedback, but rather that I've quietly observed and listened to the words and ideas behind the people in my travels. It's difficult to explain, but there are a lot of passionate people making art out there. We rarely get to see it, it's rarely in galleries and it's never the latest craze (which sickens me anyway). It's usually found in unknown, unpretentious artists that are honest and authentic. Not perfect in anyway, but at least accessible and real. This is the kind of thing that excites me. Knowing that there are people like me, driven to make art and asking questions about ourselves and one another. It's all about narrative for me. Making art that is generative and allows the viewer, if they are present, to wander to explore and ask their own questions – it’s open to reverie.

The poet/writer C.K. Williams said that the poet (artist) has, "the right to vacillate, to wobble, to shillyshally, be indecisive in one's labors, and still not suffer from a sense of being irresponsible, indolent, or weak." It feels good to read that. It's one of my greatest weaknesses, I'm rather insecure as an artist (all artists are, if they are honest). I've done a bit of that "shillyshallying" lately.

My work has taken a nice turn recently. At least I think it's nice. After considering that the Kristallnacht project is almost impossible (read: almost) to complete (time, money and cooperation), I decided that I wanted to blend it with my personal interests and make it less pedantic and more authentic and, in my opinion, interesting. So, I'm blending Kristallnacht, Portraiture Work and both historical and contemporary theories of difference into my images.

My latest incarnations:

Carmen the Putzfrau and Heidelberg Brown Shirt Street

Heildelberg Synagogue Arc (Memorial) and German Man With An Axe

The Anne Frank Exhibit

Anne Frank ExhibitOn Sunday, Jean, Summer, Denise and I jumped on the Straßenbohn and went into Mannheim. We walked around and enjoyed the people - pure C-A-N-D-Y, very delicious. There were two young German girls that came running up to us saying, "Engländer, Engländer!" I wasn't quite sure what to make of them. They were probably about 12 or 13 years-old. At first, they seemed to be interested in Summer's Converse bag. We finally realized that they were doing a project for their English class; they wanted to record us speaking English. Once I understood that, I told them to get their recorders ready - and then I said, "I want to know why more Germans can't be as friendly as you are and why they don't remember Kristallnacht here in Germany." I can't wait until their teacher translates that for them - maybe it will start a dialogue! They were puzzled but immediately played it back and were listening to it as we walked away. Several minutes later, they caught up to us again and had us clap (applause) into their recorders - we happily obliged. We were speaking in German and asking them to say "Hallo" to German people as they walked by and to see how many responded positively - few did - it was an amazing, quick sociological experiment and those girls gave me hope for the future of Germany.

We were hungry after all of this and had lunch at a Turkish Döner. Ein Der Turkei Pizza mit Lamm Fleisch (Döner) rocks!! I had the Turkish buttermilk called, "Arayan" - it's a cross between buttermilk and yogurt drink, very popular with Turkish people and very tasty. After lunch, we headed to the synagogue to see the Anne Frank exhibit.

Although we went to the Anne Frank Haus in Amsterdam in 2001, her story never ceases to amaze me, lift me up and sadden me all at once. It's like she knew that she wasn't going to live very long. Her passion and dreams were waiting to be realized, but were dashed and destroyed by insane, possessed people. I hope she can see the positive influence her work and life has had, and will continue to have, on people all over the world. She was an amazing human being.