On his time and in his world
Penned and Pictured by Philip David Cobb
When things around me feel like they’re moving too fast, too turbulent, or if I have to navigate unorthodoxy, I usually can steer by looking to the anchors in my life — the spiritual direction, my left-brained aptitudes, and the presence of solid people.
That's why I was surprised when Dylan, pronounced “Dy-lin,” asked an oft scatterbrained me if everything seemed to be in a state of chaos after President Biden took office, or if it was just normal adult sentiment. And he clarified that it wasn't a political or partisan-motivated question, but rather impartially speaking to the era that we're living through. And I get it — the economy is a circus with even the cost of breathing impacted by inflation, uncertainty with global conflicts arising, and the fact that people have never been more disconnected with increasing tech (mis)advances. Yet, Dylan digressed to say, “maybe it's just me.”
For me, Dylan is one of those anchors, a citadel, and has been for me through my ambiguous twenty-something years when I met him, and to date. He’s grounded in a life-adept way.
Present day has us playing in a weekend rec-football league together, where trash talk sometimes runs rampant, and to which Dylan notoriously never responds; even appearing deafeningly taciturn. When asked about his disengagement — even when it’s directed to him — he humbly (comically) replies, “I don’t even know how to talk trash.” A mutual friend characterizes him as one of the few that are actually “healed.” I’d say that’s an anchor — it doesn’t matter what the waves around him do.
Finding simplicity and calm set the tone for this shoot, aiming for a mild and clean, but rugged look, which I think we captured. I had some other shots planned for the day, but since our dialogue was good and the images candid and natural, I didn't want to push too hard on the moment. Plus, when I presented one particular shot idea to him, he replied, “Nah, I would need a re-twist to even consider that.” (continued below)
But the conversation — and Dylan’s disposition — is itself, considered. Life presents us with moments and choices that are either evergreen or deciduous. In the material world, we can chase volatile financial returns hoping to come out ahead, or we can invest consistently and let compounding do what history tells us will grow. We can buy cheap items that wear out quickly, or we can invest in fewer, better things that last. We can consume every doom and gloom news cycle, or choose content that informs and uplifts. The list of contrasting colors is long, but the principle is clear: some things endure while others fade.
We happen to both be lifelong Philadelphia Eagles fans — an emotionally enduring thing in our lives — one of the reasons I find myself forever choosing green.