One Million Dollars ($1,000,000)

 

More than half a century—over fifty years—has slipped by since my passion for photography first ignited. It is by no means a span of time to be taken lightly.

The value of everything is dictated by the zeitgeist of our times. Value hinges on individual needs, and those needs vary from person to person. Art is not a realm that people truly know well. Without ever fully grasping its essence, they see it merely as something that vaguely seems important.

The traces of intense focus—the artist's mental anguish and the highly precise physical effort poured into the work—remain invisible to the viewer. All they see is a single photograph hanging on a wall. But the moment they learn the price of the piece, they unleash a flurry of reactions, each tinged with their own brand of vanity.

The price of an artwork is dictated by the artist's reputation and the pronouncements of influential critics. Consequently, most artists know exactly where they stand on this scale of monetary value. But here, I beg to differ.

Why should I step onto a scale calibrated by others? Why must my work satisfy their standards? Did Van Gogh have any inkling that his paintings would one day be worth millions of dollars? We live in a conformist society, conditioned to live by prescribed rules. We follow them, but why on earth should we? Do not commit murder, do not cause irreversible harm to others, and pay your taxes. That is the sum total of what this society demands of a life. And even those standards are debatable depending on where you live.

Aside from the only two certainties in life—death and taxes—we must learn to live the lives we actually want, refusing to bow to rules made by people we don't even know. Throughout the long stretch of human history, this is precisely what sages and philosophers have been telling us all along: 'Know thyself.'

What is the value of a million dollars? A cramped, two-bedroom apartment in Gangnam? Or a sprawling, 7,000-square-foot house in Vientiane? Is that truly worth trading for fifty years of knowledge, blood, sweat, and tears? It is all a matter of perspective, but the value of money is only realized when it is spent; in the mind, it remains a mere abstraction. An incomprehensible abstraction.