Imperfection

There is nothing more to aspire than harmonic imperfection. Imbalanced imperfection. Something that is real and true but not rehearsed. Like Kerouac in The Subterraneans (you have to read it in English, and you have to read it fast, it has a beat beat beat). Like Robert Frank photographing the USA. Only one take. Quick, quick, go, go. Garry Winogrand trying to hit the beat of LA in the dusk of his career. You might have planned it but you are trying to transcend. You are touching god. And you fail every time. It will never work but sometimes it touches others. Like PK Dick’s VALIS, a pink ray of energy from the Cosmos.

It’s my birthday.

This is the best song I have ever heard: Sister Ray

It should not work. It’s one take. John Cale played organs too loud. Lou Reed went through some lyrics. Moe Tucker bashed a drum set at different paces. Everything changed, everything was improvised but planned. Sterling Morrison tried to bring his guitar up in the mix. Only one take. The sound engineer walks out. It somehow held together like a beautiful broken butterfly. Good photography is the same. It should keep you wondering why you are drawn to it. It shouldn’t work. It should bring the irrational and the rational to the same plane, like a folded paper plane. It’s not worth it if you can explain it. Photography can bring you back to unexplained rainbows.

I’m not sure if linking here to youtube is somehow not ok. All the credit goes to the Velvet Underground (Reed, Morrison, Cale, Tucker).