Friday, October 10, 2014

Confused Emotions

Going through all my old negs shot almost a year ago in November 2013 I feel like I am letting the people at the dump down. I should be there working on telling their stories. Instead I am sitting in my security guardhouse watching the hours of my life tick by. I wish there were two Gerry's one that could be in Asia photographing and telling those important stories and one that can be here with my father spending time with him and trying to keep him as happy as I can. I know I am doing the right thing being here with dad, I know it is what I want and need to do, more importantly it is what my father needs now, to have loved ones around him.

Even after saying all of that a part of me can't help feeling like I am letting the families down. I feel the draw to tell all the stories I have dreamed up not only the families story. That draw to make pictures nags at me, pulls and tears at me. I feel like if I am not doing it, if I am not telling the stories of the dump families, the migrant worker, the slum families or the brothel workers that I am failing somehow. Not only failing on a personal level but failing in the sense that the people in those not made photographs will not have their stories told. It eats at me. I feel a need to be there, it is hard to explain. It is like an unquenchable thirst, even when I am over there making the photos it's not enough, even when I succeed and get the photo or have an exhibition it's not enough. There is always a hunger, a feeling of responsibility to do more to tell more, to do better to reach and search and continue to chase something that might be uncatchable, unreachable.

Now I will stay with dad, be there for him, enjoy the time we have left, the other stuff is all guilt I guess. Later I will throw myself into everything photographic with a triple effort. I am running out of time to tell my stories. I will need to focus, sacrifice and devote myself fully in the coming years. No excuses only photographs.