Posts Tagged ‘art’

The unacknowledged life is still worth living.

Monday, September 7th, 2009

What if I die and no one remembers me? Does it make my life any less valid? I’ve been asking myself these questions lately as I find myself feeling compelled to share my life online.

When I got a Flickr account in 2006, I felt compelled to publish every good photo I took. In turn, I felt compelled to document my life in photos so I could share those photos — my life — on Flickr. Then I got a Facebook and Twitter account, and I began to feel compelled to share my life there, too. I enjoyed the response, and that drove me to share more. There’s nothing wrong with the impulse to share experiences, but I have to believe that my life is worth living regardless of whether I’m acknowledged for it.

Maybe I’m having a midlife moment. I’m 42 years old. It’s unclear whether I’ve made a mark on the world. And it’s time to decide whether or not I care. I don’t have kids, my parents are getting older, and I don’t have a lot of siblings or cousins. Who is going to remember me? And does it even matter.

On the one hand, I am coming to terms with my nature. I need to communicate with others, to create my own expression and share it with the world. Looking at people’s enthusiastic self-expression in social media outlets, I can see that I am not alone.

On the other hand, I must resist the compulsion to share photos and status updates in order to add value to my experiences. I don’t need to be applauded for being cool or interesting or cultured. I don’t have to be told I have good taste or talent. It feels good, but becoming addicted to acknowledgment leads to a letdown when I don’t get it.

For a year or two now, I’ve debated whether to take my camera on certain adventures. I want to “show the folks back home!” but the equipment weighs me down and cramps my ability to enjoy my own adventure. I told my husband that I was beginning to question whether I could really experience a moment and record it at the same time, and ever since then he tells me, “live the moment, don’t record it.”

I’m not about to stop publishing to social media, but I will continue to remind myself that what matters is not whether people love your life when you’re dead. What matters is that you love your life while you’re living.

Steph tributes Daniel Greene

Sunday, February 22nd, 2009



Steph tributes Daniel Greene

Originally uploaded by Glyph Hunter

My friend Robert, who took this photo of his daughter after a self-portrait of mine, writes:

I’ve wanted to take this pic for a long time. I saw Daniel’s pic and thought to myself “I have one of those whistles somewhere around the house.”

My daughter didn’t need any coaxing to pose for this as she’s always had a very high opinion of Dan. She’s in good company.

Wow! I’m flattered. When someone takes what you’ve created and creates something else in response, that’s interactive, co-creative art! That’s community. I love it!

P.S. I’ve met Robert and his daughter Stephanie on a few Flickrmeets and photo strolls.

LOVE Sculpture by Robert Indiana – Scottsdale Public Art

Thursday, October 18th, 2007



LOVE Sculpture by Robert Indiana – Scottsdale Public Art

Originally uploaded by Daniel Greene.

I never realized their were multiple copies of this sculpture until I saw in at the Scottsdale Center for the Arts. I think the first time I saw the iconography was on a postage stamp. Taking this photo was funny. It seemed that everyone wanted their photo taken with it, and there were several photographers around. I waited patiently as one photographer took a series of shots of a couple in various poses around the sculpture. Just as they were leaving, I got ready to take my shot. Simultaneously, these exuberant little girls came running onto the scene. I snapped this photo figuring I might never get the sculpture alone. When they saw me, they stopped and stared at me like does in headlights, and I said, “I just wanted to get a photo of the sculpture by itself. It’ll just take me a second.” They left and I got my plain photo of the sculpture before they came back to play (or pose for their mother with the camera), but I like this one better.