Not long ago I lost my right-hand man, fellow builder, compatriot creator of shit, companion of contradictory and too specific counsel, and general partner in getting into trouble,
Andrew Fritz. We valued the same things: curiosity, compassion, creativity, continuous learning. We lived the same ultimate purpose: serve the world well. The rest was pretty Mutt and Jeff, day and night, different approaches. Andrew went backcountry with 80 pounds of gear with a rainjacket, while I took less than a third of that including full rain gear and extra socks. Aside from our opposite genders, nearly foot difference in height, and of course our differing sexual-orientations, one of our biggest differences was in our approaches to photography.
As a computer scientist, Andrew loved the technical details and finer points of light and focus. He was continuously pushing himself to learn new software, new gear, new tools and new ways of capturing a painting of light. I love
his work, but I also dubbed him the "Gear Whore." As a social scientist, I'd rather experiment with the relationships of colors and contrasts. Andrew thought nothing of spending twelve hours on a computer stitching 60,000 photos together into one
Star Trail. I refuse to do any editing out of the camera (on a computer). I am point-and-shoot lazy and have had the same three of lenses on the same Pentax body type for decades. Andrew bought quality gear. I am cheap. If we were composers, Andrew would have been Mozart, while I remain Scott Joplin in his early days writing Ragtime above a bordello. The funny thing, the brilliant thing, is that we respected each other and our different methods. This allowed us to push each other. Andrew isn't around to nag me into taking my photo into Capture One for a little post-editing, or to quit being lazy and set up that flower shot using a longer lens...to see what more my art can become with a little opposite in my approach. I have to do that part myself now. Play Andrew in my head.
Fortunately, I had 24 years of training before I had to do it on my own. As much as missing my friend sucks, this ability to play my same-purpose, different-approach opposite is a gift right now. None of us have all the same supplies, resources, outlets, or places to work that we had a month ago, but I can see other ways of creating art, of being happy without my norms available. It's just like having a conversation (aka argument) across the kitchen counter with Andrew...he was a baked goods guru and I'm more of a short-order cook, but we made a lot of popular party meals on a dime by doing both/ neither composites.
The moral of this post is: summoning your inner opposite some more right now might save your sanity. I don't mean an opposing opinion or argument. No need to squint your Republican self into a Democrat or anything so drastic (although that is a good empathy exercise). I mean imagine yourself, still with your same values and purpose, but a completely different way of achieving those things. This is more than just an empathy exercise, it's a survival panacea of sorts. No matter all of the things we can't control, we can still control our how...and that is incredibly comforting, like a big lug guarding your back during those slum photo shoots in the middle of the night.
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| My opposite, the day he married his soul-mate, Dr. Adrian Fritz-Dahood. |
