A paper I did for high school English class

<p>I suppose that depends on your interpretation of the definition of being content or discontent. Considering the true definition, "satisfied with what one is or has; not wanting more or anything else." I believe that when I am behind a camera, I am completely satisfied with that which I have, I do not want anything more, or anything else. Now if you look at this in a different manner, you can consider that your feeling of being "content" is caused by your completion, when you "put down the camera". It's really a matter of opinion whether that "restless adventure" or "leaving home" is what gives you the feeling of being content, for you, as you stated, it doesn't. That is just my feelings towards it, it really all comes down to a matter of opinion. I do understand your point of view, and acknowledge it. It's just simply not my opinion and feeling toward the situation. </p>

<p>I see merit in both Julie's point, and Aleks' reply. Because I think they're talking two different levels of being content - content about what you've done, versus content about what you are doing. They're not necessarily the same.</p>

<p>Being content with what I've done (or achieved, or think I have achieved), doesn't really ignite any creative ideas. It doesn't inspire me to think about different approaches, different points of view. It'll make me take the safe road, rinse and repeat. Not dash off into the wilderness to try something I never tried before. The safe road makes for boring photos over time (and yes, more often than I want, I get stuck on that safe road).<br>

But (photographywise anyway) I am perfectly content heading off in that wilderness and broaden the horizon. The happy perfect discontent of not yet having made that one photo that really works leaves me content - because there is still something to dive into. It keeps a fire burning, a desire unanswered, a lesson not learnt. That itch makes me feel more alive, and I like to feel alive.</p>

<p>I feel as if this certain topic could be considered in so many different avenues, making the conversation practically infinite. Photography brings me both contentedness and the feeling of dis contentedness, allowing me to feel satisfied at the feeling of being behind the camera, but also allowing me to venture into new depths.</p>

<p>Aleks, I find that most emotions and feelings are not perfect or pure. Contedness can always have some discontedness within and discontent can be harboring some contentedness. Only when we think in pure black and white (which is usually a pretty non-artistic way to think) do we think of being perfectly content or perfectly discontent. My guess is your teacher was just using "perfectly" as an added emphatic adjective and not suggesting that anyone's feeling content in a certain location or engaging in a certain activity couldn't also be moved by desires and dissatisfactions.</p>

<p>I'm not religious, but a while ago I heard a rabbi speaking about why the groom at a Jewish wedding stomps on a champagne glass immediately after the couple is pronounced man and wife. It is to commemorate the destruction of the Temple. Why do this at such a joyous occasion as a wedding? Because even in the greatest joy there is a touch of sorrow just as in the greatest sorrows there can be found some joy. Many of my early Jewish teachings no longer make a lot of sense to me, but this one does.</p>

<p>Aleks, just to clarify because I may not have come across as clearly agreeing with you, which I do. In short, yes, I understand your feeling both contented behind the camera while being able to "venture into new depths" as you so nicely put it. Contented and discontented.</p>

<p>Aleks, suppose rather than the "leaving home" in an excitement of discontent that I wrote about in my previous post, above, one looks instead to the perfectly familiar with pensive curiosity. One steeps oneself in the tea of perfect satisfaction -- does a fractal dive into the dilation of the utterly familiar, luxuriating in the blooming and dilation of the confirmation of what gives delicious contentment.</p>

<p>I think -- I believe -- that always, always, behind this kind of photography there is a permanent root sorrow (which is, I believe, in many ways far more delicious in scope and provocation than is satisfaction).</p>

<p>In your essay, you wrote, "Often times, I find that moments that should be appreciated are simply ignored, and abruptly discarded into the irrelevant memories of our past. The life behind a camera, where I can always go when I need rest, where I can always go when I need to ponder things in my life, or when I simply need to capture the world around me."</p>

<p>"Capture." What is it that you "capture"? Not your dinner, as a hunter would. Not something that can be put to utilitarian use, later. 'Still' photography is ... <em>still</em>, in the different meanings of that word. When capturing, via still photography, the familiar, the satisfying, what makes one content <em>now</em>, one is already in a state, at root, of sorrow and yearning -- and celebration of what can't be held ("captured") by any other means.</p>

<p>My favorite source of artist's statements is<br>

http://www.artybollocks.com/# <br>

;)</p>