I wanted to make a quick reflection on photography as an art and as a resource. Art would be when the photographer does his job and resource when people want to extend their memory (either at parties or on trips) using different cameras.
My reflection started or arrived at the following sentence: “the photographer makes the photograph, the others only capture images”.
Then came to me the problem of the amateur photographer (which, now that I think about it, also has its levels). Does the amateur make or shoot? And I think to answer myself I will resort to the method of advice. “The more conscious you are of your action and your results, the closer you are getting to creating your own personal works”.
Then, I wanted to extrapolate all this reflection towards literary creation, particularly the writing of poems. I am in various writers’ groups on many platforms. It is more or less frequent to find a constant of expressions of the very depersonalized love type, so much so that we could well believe that the thing was written by one and the same person. Then (particularly at this minute) I started reading some Italian poets. The comparison that came to me was similar to the one already noted about photographers. There are poets who simply write as if catching the first word that passes in front of them and there are others who select the precise word chosen among several because they pursue the expression of their particular thought. They cultivate the poem as one who works the land or prepares a flower arrangement or weaves a garment with his hands. They make and not simply embody.
How can this be achieved? Perhaps some might ask me. An answer that deserves another essay.