The Art of Balancing Adventure and Responsibility
Life’s challenges often require balancing between two extremes. As I entered my thirties, the adventurous spirit I had in my youth met a growing sense of responsibility. In this post, I reflect on my love for independence, my commitment to fairness, and a unique photo exhibition that beautifully captured the intersection of the past and present.
I have a greater fondness for independence than what’s necessary. Despite this, I don’t want to act behind anyone’s back. I prefer fair and honest play. When I was younger, I was the kind of person whose picture you’d paste next to the word “adventurous.” However, after turning thirty, this adventurous spirit met with responsibility.
Ever since I’ve known myself, I’ve seen myself as a person filled with uncertainty. But I am proud that this uncertainty didn’t lead to being easily influenced, but rather to a tendency toward a naive balance. For every argument, I find a counter-argument. For every positive, I search for its negative counterpart. For every bad thing, I find something good in it. Once at a riding school, I heard a humorous remark: “The cart moves straight ahead when both the right and left sides pull equally, and you hold the reins with a steady hand.”
In the afternoon, I went into the city just to get out for a while.
The photo exhibition at the Rhone River Foundation was the destination.
A photographer had told me yesterday that most of the pictures submitted for exhibitions and critiques are sensationalist. The most common themes are poverty, death, and exploitation. When a photographer profits from the image of misery, what is he really doing? Where is the line between art and exploitation? Of course, these are valid and painfully present topics. But the photographer also mentioned how refreshing it would be to see images in the next room that convey positive thoughts. Well, something like that happened today.
In this gallery, the theme was the temple. On one side of the room, they showcased the reconstruction of the Notre-Dame Basilica in Paris. They didn’t focus on the disaster, but rather on the restoration and preservation of its value. There was also a touch of history: my favorite image was taken in 1918, during the war. The entire entrance façade was covered with sandbags to protect it from bombings. On the other side of the room, they presented the great mosque of Jerusalem, showing people – Jews, Muslims, Christians – living side by side in the same city.
Arles, September 20, 2024, Friday
