G. Steve Journal

Reflections on photography, art, beauty and the natural landscape.

  • Just Enough

    With the recent opening of the movie "Motherless Brooklyn," Daniel Riley interviewed actor/director Edward Norton in a piece the appeared in GQ.

    Like all artists who strive to find their own creative path forward, Norton describes the challenges of executing his vision:

    I don’t think it was different for Melville,” he says. “I don’t think it was different for Walt Whitman. Everybody who’s ever tried to communicate through work has struggled with the needs of the ego, and the higher aspirations toward patience and conviction that the work really is just enough.

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  • Send Out All Your Dogs

    Though many of Werner Herzog’s tips for filmmakers are specific to that craft, the wild and restless spirit invoked is one that could well be applied across all creative endeavors:

    1. Always take the initiative.
    2. There is nothing wrong with spending a night in jail if it means getting the shot you need.
    3. Send out all your dogs and one might return with prey.
    4. Never wallow in your troubles; despair must be kept private and brief.
    5. Learn to live with your mistakes.
    6. Expand your knowledge and understanding of music and literature, old and modern.
    7. That roll of unexposed celluloid you have in your hand might be the last in existence, so do something impressive with it.
    8. There is never an excuse not to finish a film.
    9. Carry bolt cutters everywhere.
    10. Thwart institutional cowardice.
    11. Ask for forgiveness, not permission.
    12. Take your fate into your own hands.
    13. Learn to read the inner essence of a landscape.
    14. Ignite the fire within and explore unknown territory.
    15. Walk straight ahead, never detour.
    16. Manoeuvre and mislead, but always deliver.
    17. Don't be fearful of rejection.
    18. Develop your own voice.
    19. Day one is the point of no return.
    20. A badge of honor is to fail a film theory class.
    21. Chance is the lifeblood of cinema.
    22. Guerrilla tactics are best.
    23. Take revenge if need be.
    24. Get used to the bear behind you.

  • Leave Room

    Musician, composer, producer Quincy Jones is profiled in an extraordinary documentary – "Quincy"– directed by his daughter, actor Rashida Jones.  The breadth and scope of his career and the mark he's made on the music scene is incalculable, yet he remains humble and accessible.

    Though clearly a workaholic and driven to succeed, he understands that the creative process is fickle, counseling fellow musicians:

    Leave room for the magic … the magic of the moment

     

    113 Autumn Reflections

  • For A Moment

     

    From the documentary "Leaning Into The Wind," here's another perceptive observation by artist Andy Goldsworthy:

    I think a good work is a moment of understanding and clarity
    In a very chaotic situation
    Like a shaft of light that just penetrates
    And for a moment is very clear
    And then it all becomes unclear again.

  • You Step Aside

    In "Leaning Into The Wind", a new documentary about artist Andrew Goldsworthy, he talks about his motivation to explore and create art in the unique way that he does:

    There’s two different ways of looking at the world.
    You can walk on the path or
    You can walk through the hedge.
    And I think that's the beauty of art
    It just makes you step aside
    Off the normal way of walking or looking.

     

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  • Stay Awhile

    An excerpt from "When I Am Among the Trees" by poet Mary Oliver:

                    Around me the trees stir in their leaves

                    
and call out, “Stay awhile.”


                    The light flows from their branches.

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  • Work That Matters

    I find it encouraging to read behind-the-scenes stories of the strife and tensions that often accompany the creative process.  One of my favorite films, Terence Malick's Days of Heaven was sidelined in the middle of shooting while the parties sought to reconcile artistic differences.

    This inescapable phenomenon has certainly been true in my own brief venture into filmmaking, typically from well-meaning clients insistence on a misplaced allegiance to the literal:

    If you want to watch more TV, the universe won’t bother you.
                                    But if you want to do work that matters, it’s going to be a fight.                                                                                                      – Shawn Blanc

     

     

  • Go Where You’re Drawn

    One finds this admonition regularly in texts from Thoreau to Dr. Suess, and for the creative person, there's never a bad time to come across a reminder – this time from filmmaker Martin Scorcese:

    You have to find your own way. There are no manuals, no shortcuts, no secrets. You write your own manual, develop your own shortcuts, find your own secrets. You go where you’re drawn to go, and you learn by doing the work.
    I mean, if you’re scared, if it all seems too daunting, if the machinery of it all seems too big and scary and overwhelming—that’s great. You wake up in the morning and you do it anyway. If it seems impossible, that’s even better. You do it anyway. Now it’s time to get to work.

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  • Go To The Riverbank

    In keeping with our exploration of the creative process comes this little gem from Monty Python's Eric Idle:

    …in the PBS series Monty Python’s Personal Best, Idle discusses the joy of writing for the show—and compares creating Monty Python to fishing, of all things: “You go to the riverbank every day, you don’t know what you’re going to catch."

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  • A Life of It’s Own

    No doubt this sentiment describes the way many artists have channeled their desire for expression in a meaningful way:

    Aristotle talks of our passions as being like a horse which has a life of its own. We are riders who have to take into account the life [of] the horse [in] order to guide it where we want it to go. We are not called to suppress our passions or compulsions, nor to confront them head on, nor to be governed by them, but to orientate [sic] them in the direction we want to go.

                                                                                                    –– Jean Vanier, Becoming Human

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