Due to the nature of my work, I often photograph and film lectures and seminars.
Over time, I’ve noticed something.
There are people whose words slip quietly into you, and others whose words never seem to land, no matter how much you try to listen.
I’m not a speaker myself, so I can’t comment on technique.
But with those whose words don’t resonate, there’s usually a trace of something unnecessary — a bit of vanity, an unhealthy desire, a layer of pretense.
When those elements show through, the purity of what they want to convey becomes diluted, and their message loses clarity.
On the other hand, there are people whose words reach you effortlessly.
They may not be polished speakers.
Their language may be rough at times.
But the unnecessary has been stripped away, and the single point of “this is what I want to say” stands clear.
That, I think, is what it means for a message to have purity.
These people carry intensity, yet it burns quietly.
Not the loud, performative passion of a politician shouting into a microphone, but a steady flame with a strong core.
When the unnecessary is removed, there is no need to dress up, no need for pretense, no need for bravado.
It’s a way of being I hope to embody myself.
