A Modest Man

INTERVIEWER: Are you concerned about what you’d leave behind?

JERRY GARCIA: No, I’m hoping to leave a clean field – nothing, not a thing. I’m hoping they burn it all with me. I don’t feel like there’s this body of work that must exist. There’s enough stuff – who needs the clutter, you know? I’d rather have my immortality here while I’m alive. I don’t care if it lasts beyond me at all. I’d just as soon it didn’t.

Interview, Rolling Stone, 2 September 1993

Music: Rosemary
Written by Jerry Garcia and Robert Hunter
Performed by the Grateful Dead
Aoxomoxoa (1969)

Photo by Jan Saudek: Children Playing in a Cemetery (1973)

Gender: No Limits

Photo by Jan Saudek: Women et Men

If identity becomes the problem of sexual existence, and if people think that they have to “uncover” their “own identity,” and that their own identity has to become the law, the principle, the code of their existence; if the perennial question they ask is “Does this thing conform to my identity?” then, I think, they will turn back to a kind of ethics very close to the old heterosexual virility. If we are asked to relate to the question of identity, it must be an identity to our unique selves. But the relationships we have to have with ourselves are not ones of identity, rather, they must be relationships of differentiation, of creation, of innovation. To be the same is really boring. We must not exclude identity if people find their pleasure through this identity, but we must not think of this identity as an ethical universal rule.

Michel Foucault
Sex, Power and the Politics of Identity (1984)

Photo by Jan Saudek: Women et Men

Related: Eros: No Limits

On Mortality

Photo series by Jan Saudek: Maid's Evening (1980)

For the sword outwears its sheath,
And the soul wears out the breast,
And the heart must pause to breathe,
And Love itself have rest.

“Anne Coleman” in John Updike’s play Buchanan Dying (1974)

Photo series by Jan SaudekMaid’s Evening (1980)

happy birthday

Photo by Jan Saudek: Untitled (1963)

Mongolian coasts shining in light,
I listen to the pulse of the sun,
the tiger is the same to all of us
and high         oh
so high on the branch
our oriole
sings.

Charles Bukowski
The Days Run Away Like Wild Horses over the Hills (1969)

Photo by Jan Saudek: Untitled (1963)

For @WhiskerBoom

The Root of All Sorrow

Photo by Jan Saudek: The Knife (1987)

Perhaps the best function of parenthood is to teach the young creature to love with safety, so that it may be able to venture unafraid when later emotion comes; the thwarting of the instinct to love is the root of all sorrow, and not sex only but divinity itself is insulted when it is repressed. To disapprove, to condemn – the human soul shrivels under barren righteousness.

Freya Stark
Traveller’s Prelude: An Autobiography (1950)

Photo by Jan SaudekThe Knife (1987)