I'll be honest. Even though sometimes I feel like I shouldn't be.
Sometimes I don't think clerkmanifesto is as great as other people also don't think it is.
A case in point:
Having lost, sort of, many of my pictures last year when my computer died, I decided to go on a small organizing kick. I resolved to pull pictures off of clerkmanifesto, particularly the good ones, to store in folders on my desktop. So I started running through the history of clerkmanifesto, not reading, but just looking for pictures, and capturing those that spoke to me.
It all got very quiet.
I wasn't that happy with this last year of clerkmanifesto photos.
I loved some of the things from the past few months, and I loved a lot of the older material where famous characters were clipped into my library, but all the experimental filters, the AI pictures, and the ones soaked in programs that made things painterly, or impressionistic, the mirrored shots of diffused nature pictures, just...
made me sad.
They weren't as good as I remembered. Maybe they weren't as good as I ever thought they were. It was a comedown.
I am not indefatigable. Indeed, I am easily defeated. But in rare, strange places I am not able to give in. Something in me constantly rises. And meeting defeat in those strange places hurts, but I cannot, in these rare places, make it stick. This strange relentlessness is true in just two or three places in all my longish life, but, by some stroke of good or bad fortune, it is true here, in clerkmanifesto. Let the Internet ignore me. Let people extoll my talents to my face only to never return to read this blog again. Let my own work curdle in me.
What of it?
And so, I just take my file of disappointing, overfussed pictures, and think:
Maybe all they ever needed was lions.
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