ADAB Revisited, Addendum: Postscript

I'm overly fond of the picture now headlining my blog. I loved the previous jumbo-sepia panoramas that also sat up top, watching over my blog and opening the gates for all that enter. I liked them because they were grand, like epic landscapes I tried to emulate in my writing. Experiences as vast as the landscape photographed.

At first when I put up this new picture, I thought it meant a discontinuation of that panoramic pattern, kind of like I was losing that scope and focusing in on the specific. A friend of mine once said, perhaps looking up from reading one of my poems, "Surprisingly, adding specifics helps a general audience connect with you more. I guess I just want to feel your frustration or disgust or whatever you want me to feel...more." I like that, I really do. I think specifics are the bread and butter of life. They are the commonalities we share, linking each of us together, link by link.

And I mean, come on: look at the individuality of this man: the outbursts of color (imagine them) on his overalls, the little patch that reads "hate free zone," the peace sign, the seemingly unimpressive cardboard sign that overflows with importance and emotion, the world experience etched into his face, hidden by his hat and his clothing (if you aren't looking closely you will certainly miss it). He embodies the specific and vanquishes the vagueness; he is the destroyer of the broad. He stands out. He won't be overlooked. You just feel inextricably linked to the man.

Then I took a second look at what was going on in this photograph. The depth of focus. The distinction between the older man and the students. Experience against a backdrop of youth. A sense of timelessness in the idea that he is battling for a solution to a problem that has always existed, spanning his youth and theirs. Man against a backdrop of nature. The need to set oneself apart; the need to fit in. Every known conflict is embodied in one image.

So that same sense of panorama is there. It is in every sepia pixel. The details stick out in this picture, though, as they never did in the epic landscapes of Berkeley and San Francisco bay.

Not that those places lacks the right details; my photos can't do those individual traits justice. But this one takes both into account, the specific details that draw your attention and the depth that keeps you thinking. It's a novel with a beautiful theme and a believable character. It's Dark Side of the Moon. It's the Mona Lisa. Except this guy has eyebrows.

Which I absolutely love.