D Kilfeather Photography

For the most part I feel like a dilettante when it comes to photography. I don’t have the nerve to call it my art. I don’t think I ever will. Ricky Gervais, when asked about his art replied…“Yeah – I always worry about a fat little comedian from Reading even saying the word Art. That’s how we’re brought up in Britain isn’t it – that we’re worried about being pretentious or above our station…” And oh – please don’t think I’m putting myself on the same stage as Ricky – but I get what he’s saying. Riddled with self doubt and feelings of inadequacy with my photography I often browse the pages of other photographer’s work and wonder what the heckington I’m even doing in this field. But the thing that matters most is that I do love it. And every now and then I get a message, some sort of sign, that heartens me, that makes me feel – not quite as alone in all this creativity angst. One such message came my way this week via none other than the dazzling soul that is Jarvis Cocker. The Pulp frontman presides over a superb radio show of a Sunday morning over at the Beeb – Jarvis Cocker’s Sunday Service. It is well worth the listening in to. In January this year he had the privilege of interviewing Leonard Cohen. They discussed in some detail the quandary of finding and continuing to be creatively inspired. I found LC’s reflections on this subject to be not just the essence of humility itself, but to be hugely comforting…and left me feeling not so alone working in what Yeat’s described as the foul rag and bone shop of the heart.

You can listen to the entire interview here. Meantime here is an excerpt – well worth the read.

Leonard Cohen: “Y’know – you just work with what you’ve got. I never had a strategy. I always felt I was kind of scrapping the bottom of the barrel, just trying to get the song together. Just trying to find a beginning, a middle and an end. I never had the sense that I was standing in front of a buffet table – y’know – where there were a multitude of choices. I felt I was operating on more like what Yeats used to say – working in the foul rag and bone shop of the heart…without really a sense of abundance at all – just trying to pick it all together. You always feel you’re kind of at the end of the line.  I find that there’s no sense of abundance. I blacken a lot of pages and it is my work and I try to do it everyday. But most of the time one is discouraged by the work one has done. Now and then, by some grace, something stands out and something invites you to work on it, or elaborate it, or animate it in some way. Its a mysterious process…The activity depends not just on perseverance and perspiration but also (on this) certain kind of grace…illumination…we depend on that.

You can’t own the source of inspiration nor command it. You’re not in control of inspiration. If you look too deeply into this process you’ll end up in a state of paralysis…and you don’t want that!”

And oh – please don’t think I’m putting myself on the same stage as Leonard – but I get what he’s saying. Thank you L Cohen

Images © Doreen Kilfeather Photography 2012