My effort here is to create bliss, not happiness. Happiness is worthless; it depends on unhappiness. Bliss is transcendence: one moves beyond the duality of being happy and unhappy. One watches both; happiness comes, one watches and does not become identified with it. One does not say, 'I am happy. Peace, it is wonderful.' One simply watches, one says, 'Yes, a white cloud passing.'
But I know just what it feels like to have a voice in the back of my head, like a face that I hold inside, face that awakes when I close my eyes, face that watches everytime I lie, face that laughs everytime I fall. (It watches EVERYTHING)... But the face inside is hearing me, right beneath my skin.
Grief is a stern teacher, but I am confident I could not have learned some lessons in any other way. For that, I am grateful. Grateful to God for loving me enough to stretch me and push me and crush me, to refine me in the furnace of affliction, to force me to stretch my faith beyond what I could see. God loves me more than I can possible comprehend. He watches over me. He watches over all of us. But if the way were easy, how could we grow into who He wants us to be? How could our faith become unshakable?
There are shows, a lot of small cable shows like Breaking Bad, where in the general population nobody watches them really, but everybody in Los Angeles in the industry watches them, and to get a small role on a show like that actually, in some respects, advances your career more than having a huge hit role on a genre show because they are somehow dismissed as a secondary market in this industry
Sometimes a photographer is a passenger, sometimes a person who stays in one place. What he watches changes constantly, but his watching never changes. He doesn't examine like a doctor, defend like a lawyer, analyze like a scholar, support like a priest, make people laugh like a comedian, or intoxicate like a singer. He only watches. This is enough. No, this is all I can do. All a photographer can do is watch. Therefore, a photographer has to watch all the time. He must face the object and make his entire body an eye. A photographer is someone who wagers everything on seeing.
My smell stays with you? I ruined you... for what?' 'Your smell keeps me going all the time. I'm in a clutch game or at practice and it's full count? Your cloves and vanilla scent calms me down. I spray it on the front of my uniform and rub my right hand across like this.' I demonstrate by rubbing my chest and she watches me in fascination like a starstruck teenager watches a rockstar play his bass. 'I went to three different stores before I found the exact scent. Expensive. French perfume. Chamade by Guerlain.' She nods looking fascinated or charmed by me at least for a few seconds. 'I got it in Paris when I was there a few years ago. I love it.' 'I do too. So yes, you ruined me. For anyone else.' She's smiling but then it slowly disappears like a countdown does as it goes from ten to zero. 'What are you doing to me, Elvis?' she asks, looking troubled.