I find the photos strangely poignant. I often speed click through them in Google Reader not wanting to endure a sinking stomach. But why would they make my stomach drop? Given so little to go on, it seems bizarre that the photos could carry any poignancy-potential.
We don't know the story behind a photo’s hardness-to-keep — no clues are given except possibly the scant evidence in the image. We don’t even have a demographic sketch of the person who sent in the image, nor do we know their relationship to the subject(s) in the photo. And we don’t know what happened or didn’t happen.
If this is a story, then it is almost completely fabricated in my mind. And that’s exactly what happens. Well, sort of. I wouldn’t say that my mind makes up a story as much as it does a list of assumed possibilities.
Nostalgia about youth? An estranged friendship? A good kid ruined by drugs? A suicide? The assumed possibilities race through my mind. The only thing I know with a high degree of confidence is that some kind of loss occurred, and someone is struggling with it.
Is this a sign of my supreme empathy and my emotional sensitivity? I’d like to think so. More likely this says something about what things – or more accurately, the absence of what things – invoke an emotional response.
I imagine that if instead of a photo, someone’s struggles were expressed in the form of an essay, it’d be a snoozefest, and maybe even a little obnoxious. Only the best of writers are able to express their struggles in a way that doesn't sound trite or whiny. That is, only the best of writers are able to avoid the things that block empathy.
But with a photo and no words, those empathy-blockers are easily avoided. And all that's needed to give the photo bite is the knowledge that this photo is oppressive to someone for some reason. That's amazing.
As a general rule of aesthetics, the important part is knowing what to leave out. Art operates on hints. I don’t mean symbolism. Symbolism is for intellectuals and goofballs. I mean hints: Just enough information for your brain to automatically start making assumptions.
A good joke is ruined by over-explaining the punch line. A good smoothie is ruined by adding too much sugar. An attractive woman is ruined by coming on too strongly. A good song thrives on barely audible bass and brush-like percussion. There is no such thing as a good movie where the action never stops.
As a general rule of thumb, anyone trying to be aesthetically effective should probably continually ask themselves, “how can I make this more subtle?”
There are, of course, exceptions. Although even in her case I'd argue that she is subtle in ways you probably don’t realize.
