Carpe Diem 一個人的旅行．沈澱．封存

The Sartore family--Cole and Kathy (above), Ellen, Spencer, and Joel- lives every minute to the fullest in Liincoln, Nebraska. 
The Sartores 一家人認真活出當下的每分每秒


PHOTO JOURNAL｜ JOEL SARTORE 

On Time we all have our ways of marking time. As a National Geographic photographer, my life is measured from one story to the next. I bought my first house in Nebraska while I was on assignment shooting America's Gulf Coast. My oldest son was born in the middle of a long story about the Endangered Species Act. My daughter came along with a pack of gray wolves. 

Twenty stories later, though, it's the story on Alaska's North Slope that I'll remember most. It was about the loss of wilderness and innocence— and the story during which my wife got cancer. That's the one that made time stand still. 

Kathy and I met a blues bar in college. She had long blond hair and thought I was funny. Beautiful, graceful, and patient, she has remained my muse for 24 years, despite the thousands of times I've forced her to be photographed. She may have gotten tired of it now and then. I stopped taking pictures on the day she found that tumor in her right breast. It was the size of a hen's egg. Weirdly, it was Thanksgiving. By Christmas, the chemo had her weak and bedridden. Some days she was so sick she couldn't watch TV. One day she couldn't even talk.

Early detection saves lives. But ours was not early. By the time you can feel it yourself, it's often bigger than the doctors want it to be. 

Cancer is a thief. It steals our time. Our days are already short with worry. Then comes this relentless disease, unfair as a hailstorm at harvesttime. But cancer also has the power to transform us, for good. We learn to simplify, appreciating what we have instead of lamenting what we don't. Cancer even made me a better father. My work had made me a stranger to my three kids. But now I pay attention to what really matters. This is not a race. This is a new way of life and new way of seeing, all from one malicious lump.

In the end each of us has so little time. We have less of it that we can possibly imagine. And even though it turns out that Kathy's cancer has not spread, and her prognosis is good, we try to make it all count now, appreciating every part of every day.

I've picked up my camera again. I watch the sky, searching for beautiful light. When winter storms come, Kathy and I gather our children and take the time to catch snowflakes on our tongues. After all, this is the good stuff. This is what we're living for. 

(EXTRACTED FROM NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC APRIL 2008)





攝影手札           JOEL SARTORE  
                                                     
關於時間，每個人都有自己一套量測的方式。身為國家地理雜誌的攝影師，我選擇用一個又一個的故事來記錄人生。買第一棟房子的時候，我人在美國墨西哥灣岸工作；大兒子出生時，我正在進行瀕危物種法的長篇報導，而我的女兒則是跟著一群灰狼的故事同時來到這個世上的。

寫過二十篇報導之後，我永遠難忘滯留阿拉斯加北坡，報導失落的荒野和純真的那段時日，而我的妻子也在這個時候檢查出癌症。

這篇報導的出現，從此凝結我們的時間。

我和Kathy 是念大學時認識的，就在一間藍調酒吧裡。當時她留著一頭金黃秀髮，覺得我這個人很有趣。美麗、優雅、耐心如她，儘管被我逼迫入鏡無數次，二十四年來始終扮演著我的女神。對此她可能偶爾也感到厭煩吧。她右胸發現腫瘤的那天起，我便收起相機，從此不再拍照。腫瘤如雞蛋般大小，諷刺的是，當天正好是感恩節。到了聖誕節，Kathy 已經因為化療而變得十分孱弱。好一陣子她累得看不下電視，有一天甚至連話都講不出來。

腫瘤發現愈早，活下去的希望就愈大。但我們發現得太晚，到了連自己都察覺的時候，就連醫生也不樂見。

癌症像個竊賊，偷走我們的時間。人生本就因煩惱而苦短，殘酷的病痛卻迎面襲來，就像正準備歡喜收割時竟降下冰雹，是如此不公平。但癌症卻也擁有永遠徹底改變我們的力量。現在的我們學會簡單，學會珍惜當下的擁有，對於那些無法強求的也不感到惋惜。它甚至讓我學會當一個好父親。過去因為工作，讓孩子和我之間像陌生人般生疏，但現在我卻十分在意每一件重要的小事。這不是一場生命競賽，而是一種全新的生活方式，一種新的視角，全都從一顆惡性腫瘤開始。

到頭來我們每個人擁有的時間都太少，少到連自己也難以想像。即使後來Kathy 的腫瘤沒有擴散，檢查也很樂觀，但現在我們還是努力活出生命的意義，珍惜相聚的每分每刻。

我已經重新拾起相機，仰望藍天，尋找美麗的光影。冬天的風雪來臨時，我和Kathy 會帶著孩子玩起遊戲，用舌頭接住雪花。這樣的日子很適合我們，也是我們一家的生命意義。 

(節錄自國家地理雜誌 2008年4月版)