After watching a couple of disturbing videos today, I’m fucking astonished at what’s happened to the kids of this generation. Astonished.
Seeing kids act out video games on the streets. Knocking out unsuspecting teachers and laughing about it. Really fucking funny.
Whose to blame? Probably all of us. This generation is defined by fine lines of pressure and stress relief. Video games relieve stress.
If you’re pissed off in a game like GTA, you can punch a teacher. Knock him out. It’s funny and helps relieve stress.
How can a 14 year old differentiate between the video game and real life. Why are they being asked to? A18 ratings don’t stop kids from playing these games. Ratings are a fucking cop out.
It’s easy for me to say I would have been smarter than these kids. It’s easy for me to say I would have easily been able to see the difference between the real world and the one being played out on a screen.
Nothing is easy anymore.
It’s also easy to say that the kids doing these things are hooligans or “gangstas.” Fuck that, they were all once just kids on the playground. They learned to act like this.
The kid in this photo is a great kid. I know him well.
That being said, the non nonchalant-ness of a gesture may not be that serious but I remember laughing it off as I took the photo.
I’m really excited that my project, The Culture, is just about ready to go live on my portfolio.
The project follows the life of a Korean tattoo artist over the course of half a year in Toronto. Brad, the “master” of Soul Train Tattoo is one of the most genuine individuals I’ve ever met. He and his wife and daughter treated me like part of the family and I feel ever so blessed to say that the friendship we made will be one I will always cherish.
The project took place over five months as part of one of the biggest photo endeavors I’ve taken on. It was a great experience. I’ve learned a great deal about these people and about myself. A great deal about loyalty and family. About struggles, hardship, and perseverance. Big thanks to a great group of people.
I love being back in Korea. Love it. Love Seoul, all of it. I haven’t felt at peace like this in maybe, ever?
That being said, I miss the people in Toronto. I miss the time I spent there. Relationships, I’ll cherish forever. It’s during the hardest times you see the reality of your friends and the people who care about you.
A series of imperfections, any life or person. Perfect, isn’t reality.
Memories are always of the imperfect. The quirkiness of a person is often the crux of their charm. The imperfections of anything is often it’s strongest catalyst for interest.
A person’s inner struggle is often related to their perceived imperfection. My own struggles not withstanding. To tell someone to forget these struggles is as trite as having them in the first place.
The idiosyncrasies of an individual are intrinsic.
I remember the way I felt when my Dad would try to be “cool.” I remember how unbelievably annoyed I always felt when he told me to close his car doors more gently. The way he reminded my friends of Robin Williams in Good Will Hunting.
I laugh, now. Some of the fondest memories I have are of my father being his “way.”