FINDING ART OPPORTUNITY

"Painted Letter" by David Young

Ansel Adams took on many photographic assignments beyond national parks. He was once hired by a bank in Hawaii to photograph the islands. Steering away from the normal attractions, he sought out undiscovered and less traveled sites to photograph. One was a cluster of grave markers in Paia, Maui. It turned out to be one of his most famous photographs entitled “Buddhist Grave Markers and Rainbow.”

Later he would write in “The Making of 40 Photographs,” that you did not have to know everything about a subject of a photo to make it great. He never did find out what the inscriptions on the stones meant, but he knew there was a great photograph in them. He said, “I am glad that I do not understand the language of operas; I can enjoy the music without being bothered with the words.” Finding good opportunities in art seems much like this to me, where too much information can stand in the way.

David Young

A SIMPLE SONG

A Simple Song

We had this conversation before. You always looking back at me coldly, resolute in your way. I wanted your life to be a simple song. I tried to raise you as best I could after your mother was gone. We talked before about what a simple song life could be. You only wanted to put evil in your arms and nose, hanging out with others that had no end. You never responded to my pleas, only looking back at me, coldly, resolute in your ways. I knew this would be our last talk, as I looked up to hear the words of another man dressed in black and the dirt being tossed in.

David Young

Oakland Street Truck

                               "Oakland Street Truck" - Rock Hill, SC

SMALL DREAMS

The first in a series of art videos on the small dreams of ordinary people

Dancing at the El Moro

Dancing at the El Moro

Its all boarded up now, sin and all.

Filled with passion, lust and abandon.

I once danced at the El Moro.

Any sanity or reason far off.

No one knew me there. Just a white gringo pig

Or so they called me when

I once danced at the El Moro.

Bejeweled women all flimsy and nice.

Hustles left and right, seen through

Some azure created by shots of straight Jack.

I once danced at the El Moro.

I wanted to risk all in a messy place.

Bold and crazy, I forgot I was old.

I once danced at the El Moro.

There are fences and spaces in life though.

Those with scowls on their faces looked at me.

Disdain and looks of hate. I did not belong there.

I once danced at the El Moro.

I did not care. Then I heard a sermon from somewhere.

The voice said, "they like me had no souls. Just waiting for hell.

There were other places I wanted to go.

Its all boarded up now, sin and all.

I once danced at the El Moro.