“Hello, is there anybody in there?”
I love the song Comfortably Numb by the legendary band Pink Floyd. While the song narrates the journey of singer Pink, played brilliantly by Bob Geldof, from his climb to fame and decline into drugs. It’s a song that has resonated with me since I first heard it as a teenager. Pink is obviously mentally unstable, and I believe that’s why the song resonates with me; it brings me a sense of calm when I’m listening to it. Once again, I’m finding myself writing about my connection with music and how it helps me when I’m struggling.
I guess I’m always shouting (“Is there anybody in there”), and unlike the protagonist in the film, I have chosen a different path to cope with my inner demons. Instead of resorting to heroin, I turn to my drug of choice, photography, and I find myself becoming comfortably numb. All the troubles that I face from the moment I wake until the moment I slip back into a peaceful sleep only to become comfortably numb when I’m out with my comfort blanket in hand, the camera.
Walking around the streets in a meditative state, numb if you will, has become a coping mechanism for me. This state of numbness allows me to focus, even if only for a few minutes. However, the pain in my legs and back has become excruciating, and I often find myself crying in pain. Despite this, I recognise that stopping to confront my thoughts would lead to avoidance and emotional distress. Music has become my ally in this struggle.
Do I create because I suffer from extreme depression and anxiety? As I wrote in a previous blog, I’m also a very vulnerable person. And as I start to understand what all this means when put together, I’m more sure than ever that it’s this painful combination that drives my creativity. The camera has become my pathway to being comfortably numb. Now I still question my photography, and I need to stop doing that as it’s becoming more obvious why I do photography.
Photography was one of only two things in my childhood that I remember with fondness, the other being films. I watched films so that for a few hours I would become comfortably numb. And since discovering the world of photography at a young age and again when I was in my late 30’s, I believe that this connection is evident in my work, which seamlessly blends the two art forms. While my film consumption has decreased, I do find myself revisiting classic 1980s films, which serve as inspiration for my photography endeavours. Contemporary films, with their excessive noise and lack of substance, fail to ignite my creativity and I would bet the farm that I’m not alone here.
So what’s the answer to my photography and writing if I knew that I wouldn’t be writing this blog? I have no idea what the answer is to this very question or all the questions I have in my head. I think writing, just like photography, helps me focus, and as I write, I don’t really think; I just write the thoughts that are raging in my head, and I can’t begin to tell you how much this helps me when I read it back. I’m often left asking myself another question: did I really just write that?
It is important to clarify that these blogs are solely intended for personal reflection and self-discovery. if I’d known that so many others would read them, I never would’ve started posting them. I really do get a sense of well-being when I write. What I write is 98% me, and because I’m dyslexic, I find that I need help with my punctuation, so I have started to use Apple intelligence (when it works) to proofread after I finish, and this really helps. I don’t have a problem using tools like this, but I’ll never let a terminator write the blog for me as I see no value in that.
I write to relax and to have a sense of accomplishment, and more than that, I feel it’s important that I get what’s in my head out onto digital paper.
Let me leave you with this recommendation,If you’ve never seen Pink Floyd’s The Wall I highly recommend watching it, immediately, you won’t regret it.
