I’m prone to fatigue dementia. The less-immediate stuff like remembering my own name is sacrificed in favor of brute endurance, or even survival. But more often it’s mostly a vague everyday conditioning with absolutely no decent drama- for instance I can’t look at a recently-made print first thing in the morning- no matter how much I liked it the night before, the object’s evaluation is crippled under more immediate needs- coffee, or more sleep. This is a saturation grumpiness that neutralizes anything that doesn’t serve the core imperatives, and it leaves a stink on the object that might last for weeks. As such I do wonder how dedicated to a pursuit I can ever be with these irritatingly basic and trifling priorities.
It’s the same with hiking, the chemical releases always divide and overwhelm aesthetic concerns. The oxygen high is like a gateway drug to some atavistic fight-or-flight instinct, and absolution seems detented in even the most conventional compositions. But am I being creative, or just resting? I’m in general skeptical of grand views, they entice the weakened mind, and then turn treacherous once in the can. Small, taciturn, and tedious on display, like the photo itself has ADD. Or TDD, when the frame can relate to absolutely nothing post-trauma, er -exertion. As a result, I find default in clinical, formal views of the chronically in-considered. Something like a nod to Lewis Baltz, or a hope of one. Except obviously he did this so much better, and so long ago.
Regardless, I really like this photo, one of the few 10+ mile pictures I’ve taken that I still like the next day.