Death and the Bunny
You say I am repeating
Something I have said before. I shall say it again.
Shall I say it again? In order to arrive there,
To arrive where you are, to get from where you are not,
You must go by a way wherein there is no ecstacy.
In order to arrive at what you do not know
You must go by a way which is the way of ignorance.
In order to possess what you do not possess
You must go by the way of dispossession.
In order to arrive at what you are not
You must go through the way in which you are not.
And what you do not know is the only thing you know
And what you own is what you do not own
And where you are is where you are not. -- T.S. Eliot
----
How long does it take Man to realize that he does not–cannot–want what he wants?
-- William Burroughs.
-----
Death and the Bunny
I’m not sure, exactly, what it is I mean to write, but it begins with the end of a wild rabbit in our guest room last night. Jamie and I came upon the bunny on our way home; it had been hit by a car but was still alive. We took it home in order to take it to a Wildlife Rescue in the morning. I slept beside it; it on a folded blanket in a basket, me on the guest bed.
I slept restlessly and woke up frequently to check in on our guest. It had become clear the rabbit was paralyzed from the neck down, and yet it would–between moments of rest–whip its little head around trying to get its poor, broken body to move.
I’d wake up from dreams about the bunny: one was about it as someone’s parent or maybe as the baby, but it wasn’t alone. More frequent was me startling awake because I was worried my hand had fallen into the basket and I was hurting it. Shortly after 2am I awoke again, very suddenly, and found my little friend had died.
This was better than the alternative; that it would have survived into the morning and we’d have to take it to the vet to be put down. Its body no longer functioned in the way it ought for a wild rabbit to survive. Still, I am left with the heartbreak and the anger that it had to suffer for so many hours. In this haze of time between its life and death I am grappling for meaning. What was there? I tried to give it silence and comfort to ease its passing, but that time span felt terribly long for a creature that would inevitably depart.
----
My therapist once introduced me to the concept of existential depression and recommended to me the Four Quartets by T.S. Eliot. Those words, written decades ago, bring depth and perspective to my personal idea of life. And yet: It makes me feel impatience that my life feels lived passively. This, for me, is the gift of great Art. I used to tell my therapist that what I want from life is to stand at the top of a mountain to feel the wind whip furiously around me or to stand in a beautiful, foggy landscape for so long that I might spot a crevasse that bears to me the entire universe, secrets that transcend the mundanity of modern human existence and remind us truly–and not from the self-absorbed human perspective–why we are here.
Spending time with the dying rabbit and the aftermath of having done so is the feeling of having been told such a secret. I don’t know what it means, and I know there is something I am meant to take from it. So today I feel raw and blind and angry at myself for not yet understanding. Maybe I will, someday, and maybe it will appear in my art. But this little rabbit, in its suffering, reminds me that there are big secrets and that eyes are meant to take in everything: the good, the ugly and the heartbreaking, and to hold that everything close.
------
Thou art that -- Joseph Campbell
------
I just woke out of a dead sleep and realized that I've been at war with imagery lately. Both in that the "happy" or "aspirational" lifestyle photography/portraiture of social media, while beautiful and hope-bringing to many, is cloying and a lie and literally not real (and more accurately psychically damaging) to people like me who ceaselessly compare themselves in a negative way against the (I'll admit it: constantly erroneous) perception of the happiness and "normalcy" of others, but that I haven't done anything to say no to it. My own work lately has been super safe and bland, saying nothing about where I'm at or dealing with my own experience of taking up space in this world and the viciousness of feeling unworthy and inferior because I'm unable to say anything. I've been invalidating myself - I've been too careful about trying not to offend people to the point that I've censored myself and anything that could be helpful or interesting to anyone else. Or to me. It's caused me to feel paralyzed.
Life to me isn't a beautiful portrait in the sunset, it's a navigation of tenderness and violence, love and despair; more the sound of a beautifully sad violin (beautiful! But sad!) than an upbeat dance track with bubbly lyrics.
It's hard to admit to myself that I struggle with serious depression, laughably most of all because I feel like I am letting the people who love me the most down. This leads me not to acknowledge it, which leads to more self-recrimination and self-sabotage, isolation and depression.
In a resolute ending to this 5 AM brain-dump: I will begin to allow my art to be cathartic again, and loud and weird and gritty and imperfect. Some of you might not like it, but if I continue to let the fear of that guide me, then I am invalidating me. So, sorry in advance about anything that might be uncomfortable for you. It'll be uncomfortable for me, too, but at least I'll be doing it, which will make it easier for me to be on this planet.
Reclaiming the Holy
More to come. Are you interested in posing for this project? I would love to have you participate - seeking all body types and ages to explore female archetypes. Email me: anja@anjaschutz.com
The Belmontes
While at a wedding this past weekend, these dear friends of mine asked if I would take their portrait. It's so clear they have a lot of fun together.
First, serious.
Then fun!
And here, little Pax, who had great fun throwing himself off of the hay bales used as seating at this outdoor event.
Desi's First Half-Birthday!
Celebrated - surrounded by his friends - over brunch at Duo in Brattleboro.
A lovely morning
Captured on yesterday's dog walk:
Sometimes, lighting is unimpressive until you change your own perspective. I got down into the wet grass and encountered magic!
A Moment in Grand Central
Interesting inadvertent composition: only the men are facing the camera.
A whirlwind 24 hours (less than, actually) concluded with a short wait for the train at Grand Central Station yesterday. The light coming through the windows was exquisite, as always, and so I took a few studies of the people surrounding me. This was my favorite.
Jamie + Mario
Jamie and the dogs and I went down to the river yesterday afternoon. It was perfect out: the humidity had broken after the rain, but not the heat. Jamie swam with the dogs, and I captured him in a quiet moment with Mario.
Jamie + Mario taking a break from swimming.
I also took a picture of the beautiful scenery and my dirty feet:
Dirty dirty summer feet.
My Adventures with a Yearling Red-Tailed Hawk
I had the pleasure of seeing two of my oldest and dearest friends, last week. We grew up together in Pelham, MA, and went to an elementary school together so small that its' highest population while I attended was 113 students.
They've both moved far away; one to Texas, while the other is living in Seattle. Visits like these are few and far between, and always a cause for celebration.
We ended up at a park behind the town library, where we discovered a young Red-Tailed Hawk feeding on a squirrel, in a small clearing. As my friends sat down, I grabbed my camera and crept more closely to her. She was entirely unfazed by my presence, and to my astonishment, I ended up within three feet of her, sitting on the ground, taking picture after picture of her. Every now and then, I forced myself to put my camera down, in order to fully take in the wonder of what I was being treated to.
Once I felt like I wouldn't get any more shots that I hadn't already taken, I slowly backed away, stood up, and rejoined my friends, and the Hawk kept eating.
Desi Revisited
Desi is getting to the delicious baby-phase of developing baby fat all over. He is charming as all get-out and is simply great to hang out with!
Flashlight Photography
I spent a gorgeous spring afternoon holed up in a dark room making long-exposure still lifes that were lit with nothing but a flashlight. I love the dark and moody results.
Chasing Fog
The fog was so thick, this morning, drowning out noise and anything farther than a few hundred yards, that I felt like I was in a beautiful little cocoon world. I made myself late for work by constantly stopping to take pictures.
