An Appreciation
by Ralph STEADman

‘It is only as an aesthetic phenomenon that existence and the world are permanently justified’. Friedriche Nietzsche

SNAP! That was all it took to encapsulate a world of possibilities inside a nano-slice of all that is there in infinite space. We see it every day but we don’t notice. Countless solutions from a troubling point of view open up new possibilities that, once opened, will never be innocent again. But then, from the very instant of opening these pages I was looking at an exposed life, a secret until now, a long exposure contained and only waiting for the light.

I am overwhelmed by these photographs which were rescued from some watching moment by George Stranahan during a long, eventful and significant life. I was unprepared for what I discovered. I did not expect philosophy or lessons in living life- which I guess is philosophy writ large. Each picture became a revelation and a small nugget of self-knowledge that I presumed I knew already. But each revelation was a moment of renewal. Seamlessly woven into these pictures are hints of things, people and places that I know already. The spirit of my old friend, Hunter S. Thompson as a neighbour, the golden autumn of Aspen trees across the valley which is still a part of an idyll called Woody Creek, the Brigadoon of my life that I thought would last forever. Though it has done, it cannot be trusted to be there anymore as a symbol of purity in a world gone wrong.

With a name like George, how can anything be right? George asks, not with a whine but with a puzzled wince. Maybe if there had been someone at his school called Ralph life would not have been torture to his sensitive soul. But the name Ralph served me well and when I met Hunter, my name was spat out of his mouth like a bark- an integrated necessary ingredient in his psychic need to blame and curse. If my name had been Trevor there would have been nothing to grab hold of- so I saw the blessing in it.

Much of the raw response in George’s world is a personal cry for justice, not merely for himself but for the cry of others. He gravitates toward pain and puzzlement, whether it is from a sheep or a Mexican/Nepalese child(?). His photographs reach out to the other side and look from the opposite direction trying simultaneously to touch the mystery of what one cannot see physically at that precise moment.. Goddammnit! If George wasn’t trying so hard to explain to himself why his memories of life hit on him so bad, he could have been an all-American Cubist! If he wasn’t so anchored by day to day pain in others, a new found selfishness would release the trapped and tortured artist struggling and tearing at his innards to escape and go on the rampage. He has been living madness by proxy, maintaining a privacy within his beating heart and masking a raging cauldron of un-distilled pure spirit- his own apparent beautiful and peaceful countenance- that he observes in nature while fully understanding the ravaging destructive power that produced it. He will not have it. George understands too much, questions everything, trying even to disprove the Gaia principle of the Universe’s self-regulating processes (or so I reckon!), in order that he may save what is left of humanity’s precious parts, passing them on as sum total of what he has felt throughout his life. He is indeed the Outlaw he hopes he is but that Outlaw lives in hiding and on the run through some wonderful landscapes of his own creation deep inside himself.

The game’s up, George! It is time to come out and show us this world you have been preserving, not only for yourself, but for the others, though you are not like the others. That is the important difference. In an attempt to hide that fact, you are allowing this glimpse of yourself and your pain to be shown as though it were something quite unnecessary and unimportant. Handed in nervously like a school exam paper you wait for retribution because you feel that perhaps it wasn’t what was expected or called for. Well, you are right! It was completely unexpected- and utterly beautiful. It is time to kick ass with more- to let go and be the blooded Outlaw you are, only now- in broad daylight!!

Ralph STEADman: 13.00 hours. Old Loose Court. 9/14/2008