I surrendered my digital camera when I sold Clarion Music in 2005. The camera was a business purchase so it rightfully went to the new owners. Since then I have been without a camera.
It was a conscious decision not to buy another one, especially when I made my solo journey to Morocco in 2007. I knew it was going to be a once-in-a-lifetime experience, but as a poet I wanted to use my eyes and my pen to record the journey, and not through a lens.
It was a lofty goal. At times I regretted not being able to take a snapshot of this or that. But the universe provided. On the bus to the Sahara I met a Japanese tourist with a great camera. We ended up going into the desert together and I was gifted with six photos later through email.
Without a camera I became less of a target in the strange country. The hustlers didn’t care to spend their energy on people who didn’t look like they have much. After I returned home, two friends got infected by my journey and went to Morocco for vacation. They had a great time and took hundreds of photos. On their last day they went one last time to the souk (market) and the camera was robbed. What was left in their memory was bitterness.
Photo by Ken Aoki
