Stones on the Beach Newsletter, February 6, 2024
I realize that newsletters can be boring for some readers because we artists and photographers like to sell you stuff, our work, our services. It goes with the business of the profession, naturally. So my late New Year’s gift to you is leaving all of it out this month. Let’s rely on my sheer writing ability alone to carry this along even if my steering of this 1970s model leaves us with two wheels on the shoulder and a cloud of dust—and a gaggle of bewildered faces with open O mouthes a’gaping—wondering who that maniac was that just whizzed by.
"Have you ever noticed that anybody driving slower than you is an idiot, and anyone going faster than you is a maniac?" - George Carlin
What have I been up to?
Some traveling in late December and mid-January for work and personal photography, which are the main reasons for my radio silence. That being said, there are times when I have to step away from social media and the rest of it and just take pictures. And this year is shaping up to be one of those years when action speaks louder than memes, Instagram, Reels, Tweets, and all the rest of the 21st-century nonsense that keeps humanity collectively glued to tiny screens at the expense of a good adventure.
As an American, this year isn’t going to be about Joe Biden, Donald Trump, and the upcoming circus that Americans hold so near and dear to their hearts…because the media and pundits, family and friends, educators and huxters, strangers and coworkers, tell them so. This year is unselfishly about me and my private elections in which I’m the president and my constituents are the thousands of potential subjects that I’ll encounter in India and other corners of the globe. My country is photography. My allegiance is to the craft. And my patriotism for borders and the idiots that control them constitutes a wink and nod to a blind horse; something my mother used to say.
Where am I going with this, apart from the Dark Side?
I sincerely hope that my message will be the most useful thing you can read in any newsletter this year. Here it is.
Take the Top 3 Things That You Have No Control Over which cause you anger, anxiety, depression, or any negative feelings at all—and work hard and strategically to exercise these demons. Free yourself from the bullshit.
A perspective like this is straight out of the Stoic’s handbook. But it resonates with me. If you take the leap and embrace the idea that things that you cannot control shouldn’t be taken too personally, you end up with, at the very least, a clearer mind, and an open field to play in because all that septic sludge is drained from your very being. The tricky bit is then filling that space so that the demons don’t return. And they will if you let them back in.
The problem with Americans and I suspect a great many people around the world, is that we’re prone to opening ourselves up to the forces and poorly-staged dramas that play out on our little devices. I’m not only referring to world affairs, politics, religion, family matters, and the like. I’m also calling out those little private things that we seldom if ever talk about to other people, the personal demons that are awakened and stirred by the slightest whispers of Media and People in Our Lives, that send us over the edge like a herd of New Testament pigs with dreams of flight.
I don’t want to fly the banners of ‘be yourself’, ‘become someone better’, ‘discover your passion’, ‘live and love like it’s your last day on earth’, or ‘just do it’. This is the pop trash for people who like to consume trash. Piggy People. Parrot People. Squawking and Clucking People. I’m talking about letting trash go. The trash that’s somebody else’s trash; it’s not even your own!
Your thoughts and beliefs are not your own.
The above declaration is another gem that survives from the Stoics.
If you’re to accept my challenge of letting three things go, then you have to know the all-important reason why. Could it be, that despite how much we love our beliefs, thoughts, philosophies, opinions, and even our passionate and irrational impulses, some of which we keep tucked away under our hats, these things are not us; they are smoke from a burning field of a dying crop. At best.
The purpose of my anti-newsletter is not to talk about the 3 Things that I’m letting go of. I’m simply the messenger. Consider me your waiter in some hole-in-the-wall Chinese restaurant in Chinatown. Your meal is over. The food, well, it was just average. You’re sipping down those last drops of beverage and you’re eying your watch (okay, you’re eyeing your smartphone). It’s time to clear the bill and fuck off down that proverbial highway. But before you go, before you’re able to even take a glance at the bill that’s placed on the dirty placemat before you, you know the one with all the Chinese Zodiak animals, you see a parting gift. It’s wrapped up in cellophane. In the old days, they were presented naked like the day you were born. With no thoughts and beliefs of your own.
A fortune cookie.
Even if you don’t eat the cookie bit, you’re usually curious about what “wisdom” awaits inside. Even if for a laugh. But this time, let it not be a laughing matter, at least not yet.
“Let go of 3 things you can’t control”
I look forward to catching up with you in March or maybe even sooner—with new limited-edition prints, new workshops, and new adventures. Until then, find that special something to fill empty spaces.
