Herb Ritts is one of the photographers I've admired and studied with my intellect trying to unravel a mystery in each frame. His
themes vary, but the conceptual feel is consistent. It is a backrest for me, to conceptualize various ideas of an esoteric nature, you might say, and for the poetry of stillness in motion, his mastery of stillness in motion is a work from internal solitude; it is a quest. I am drawn to these elements; always have been.
It is a stupefying quest to unravel the mysterious elements because they are all in relationship with the individual and the collective, and they are guides in the tradition of Sankofa. In photographic compositions
his stories have textures to feel by nuance, and suggestions from the learning processes. In esoteric language these are discoveries where belief is of no importance because this is essentially outside of ego, and intellectual pretense. It is the stuff we come from, we understood before, during and after birth.
It was during childhood understanding this language dissipated, or was encouraged to stay in one's daily vernacular. It depended upon the language the parents kept within them, or didn't that determined the direction these esoteric musings took within the child.
Somehow, it seems the esoteric starts with the feminine. Creation does. Why shouldn't this be a consistency in spiritual growth, and study? Birth is discovery, and discoveries birth one from each stage to the nest, where one matures.
Gregory E. Woods, Keeper of Stories
2/02/19
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| Cindy Crawford by Herb Ritts. Versace 3, el mirage. |
