bus-sheds, fruit trees and sidekick-journalism

let me hide behind a camera, a bus-shed, a brick wall, something. but don't put me in front of a camera, a bus-shed, a brick wall, anything. no matter how present I may be, I'm not there. let them worry about the future, what they love and want to do. I have no idea of what the what, what the substance, of life will be. only who the whos, who the subjects, are - always. if you tell them your lost, they probably wont believe you, and I'm not lost. I'm just finding my way and the way is quite the royal pain in the arse. I wish I could find the way to blue on my own, in my own manner. options are basically the bastard in the chaos we call freedom when all a poor soul wants is to capture and provide people with the beautiful and brittle nature of the world. but maybe that's not enough in the cynical business of journalism. maybe there just isn't room for the naive, openminded and kindhearted. the future is coming and maybe it's all right that I don't know what it'll bring. but I don't know if Louis Theroux's sidekick-journalism is for me. he's so there, in the moment and straight forward. I'm not there, I'm not even here. being invisible, that would be an amazing ability for any reporter to have. why can't I act invisible and avoid all the pay-offs to my obvious set-ups? I don't want them to respond to me as a journalist, I want them to respond naturally, to another person. 'cause in all simplicity that's all we all are, we're people trying to understand eachother. I want to know what you love, what you need, what you do and not least why you love, why you need and why you do something - anything.

time is of the essense I hear, but time is all we've got. what is journalism, what is reporting. it's displaying reality and I want the simplicity, purity and honesty of relations and people to return to the reporting. utopian? maybe. still, it's a suggestion, a hope, my way to blue.