touch all those threads.
All my images are done
with traditional
black-and-white film.
I do all my own lab work,
my own developing,
my own printing.
All silver gelatin prints.
And you have an inventory
of pictures.
Oh, yeah.
(laughing)
And what are you
going to do with them?
There will be
a book next year,
and the book will be
essentially about spirituality,
but hopefully,
combining all the other elements
that we talked about.
You and I have spent...
more than half our lives
together.
I think of you as one
of my dearest friends,
if not my dearest.
The same.
Yeah, and I truly love...
I love you.
And, um...
I'm thinking...
I'm looking now...
Perhaps the reason I'm
running as fast as I can
is I see very clearly
my own death.
What,
with the death of my wife
and the lady I've married
nursed her husband
through cancer to his death,
and...
I see death and mortality
very, very clearly.
It's just over there.
He's coming on.
And...
it still doesn't relieve me
of all the irritations
of everyday life
where I should be able to say,
"Oh, I'm not gonna
let that bother me,
because how many years
do I have left?"
You can count them.
Very conscious of death
and my fear of dying.
I'm truly afraid,
and when I'm asked,
what am I afraid of,
it's... inchoate,
loneliness, of loss,
of aloneness...
name the thing
and I'm afraid of it.
I don't know
how to deal with it.
How are you dealing with it?
I think of it as a loss
of consciousness.
And I am conscious of it,
I think about it.
I'm not sure... quantitatively
that I think about it
in the same terms
or as much as you do,
but I do think about it
quite a bit.
I'm aware that the years
are numbered,
and, uh, I'm not quite sure
what the number is.
Nobody can know that for sure.
And I expect I still have
some pretty good time,
because genetically, my parents
lived into their mid 80s,
and I figure
I still got some time.
I have a brother who is
very healthy... knock wood...
and he is five years older
than me.
But I do think about it.
I think about the loss
of relationships,
the end of that.
I think about the loss
of creative opportunity.
I love to be creative,
to see things evolve
that you dream about
and can bring to fruition.
Um, I think
it is impotant now
to be making
philanthropic statements,
to be giving back,
giving back as much as I can,
as much as we can,
into the community,
into funding for arts,
funding for children,
funding for education.
Uh, things that we believe in,
care about.
Uh, and leaving a legacy.
I'm concerned about that.
I'm concerned
that it be positive
and constructive
and meaningful.
Um, the lost of De Kelley
meant a lot to me.
Uh, I saw him as kind of
an uncle... figure.
As I remember him,
a very even-tempered,
very wise gentleman
who saw a lot
and needed very little,
or at least seemed to need
very little.
His life was very simple.
He and Carolyn had
a very quiet, personal life,
which was not a life
that I would aspire to,
but I did admire his serenity
and his calm.
At least his appare: Wt serenity
and calm.
Uh... and-and his craftsmanship
that I came to really respect
over a period of years.
And it was so useful
in our kind of mix.
It gave us both, I think,
something wonderful
to deal with and work with.
Uh, it mean a lot to me
when he was gone,
and I thought, that's
the beginning of an end,
was the way I saw it.
I think of him...
My first impression
is Raintree County
and the young
DeForest Kelley.
Good-looking whippersnapper,
Southern gentleman.
And that life is gone
and lost and over.
And you and I
are talking about it,
and there will be a few...
it'll be a lot of people
who'll remember for a while
DeForrest Kelley.
But he was an actor,
and he was in hit show...
that's why he is remembered
for the flicker of time,
longer than most of us...
that it's no time at all.
So you live and die.