The Gym, The Symphony, and The Ghost in the Machine

I spent a fair amount of time in the gym this past week. As a professional people watcher, a constant thinker, and having a distaste for actually being in the gym, I burned a pretty good additional chunk of calories just trying to wrap my mind around everything going on. I thought about how inefficient the entire, ridiculous process is; about how we all come in to move our bodies and exchange our energy for movement that doesn't go anywhere, heating up a building that requires cooling. Dumb. I would bet a gym with generators on every device fueling batteries for lights and a heat pump could probably at least break energy neutral. 

There is an entirely different world of weird etiquette inside a gym. Nobody really seems to smile and eye contact is generally avoided. Photos and videos, very understandably, are a no-no. But for some reason, there is almost always at least one guy (often more), usually younger (but not always), that decides wearing sunglasses is a good choice. I did a lot of stupid things I thought were cool when I was younger. But I think (I hope), I knew then that wearing sunglasses at a gym would make me look either disrespectful or idiotic. Likely both. The fact that I see guys my age doing it as well is just baffling. Then again, I find most of people's behaviors baffling.

The gym eats into my beach walking and camera carrying time. It's a means to an end for me, and necessary for now, but I would rather be doing something more enjoyable

In the midst of a very different crowd, I sat down to listen to the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra perform at the Granada Theatre. I've already written too much about the gym, so I won't go into my thoughts on the peculiarities of the happenings and people at these sorts of events. All people are just quirky, I suppose. I take myself on dates like this when the opportunity arises. I'm the only person I know that likes classical music and I enjoy the romantic daydream I get to carry out. I do prefer hearing the more lively bits, like their opening of Danse by Debussy, but I've always liked Rachmaninoff's work as well, and I was happy they performed his Symphony No. 2 in it's entirety. What stood out to me, though, was reading more about the composer's life and struggles in the program. I feel a sense of kinship, particularly after reading his words;

"I feel like a ghost wandering in a world grown alien. I cannot cast out the old way of writing, and I cannot acquire the new. I have made intense efforts to feel the musical manner of today, but it will not come to me."

 - Sergei Rachmaninoff

Earlier in the week, in a very different audience yet again, I attended a presentation by Adobe. They invited a mix of photographers, illustrators, designers and other creatives - mainly to introduce Firefly, their new AI offering that is now built into all our apps. It was impressive. And scary. Things are changing rapidly in the photography world, and this will upset things even further, faster. I don't think anyone who understands what this technology can do needs a crystal ball to see how it will play out for the majority of creatives in these fields. Another panel I attended last year suggested that AI won't replace photographers entirely, but photographers who use AI will replace photographers that do not. I think that is optimistic, and that it is just the beginning. I foresee a future where several people's current jobs will be funneled into one position, and a camera will just be another input for him or her to feed the machine some data, prompting along the way. Actual, real photography will be preserved only by documentary, journalism, art, and the occasional boutique commercial shoot. 

If it wasn't for Dry January and the fact that he's been dead over 80 years now, I'd like to take ol' Sergei out for a drink to commiserate on feeling like you are the last of a breed.