264/365: red and yellow dahlias
Can’t you just hear the music? I see a dance hall full of swirling red and yellow skirts, smiling faces, warmth and energy.
There are no wallflowers among dahlias.
248/365: vintage camera
I am not a hater when it comes to digital photography. I credit the digital revolution with my own artistic career. Honestly, I never would have taken the time or the risks to discover my own vision with film; I wouldn’t have been able to afford it!
Digital photography gave me the freedom to explore and to fail. It was OK to take 200 photos – just to see what would happen – and then throw them away. It still is.
Nonetheless, I wax a little poetic when I see vintage cameras. There is a beauty to the object that makes me feel nostalgic, appreciative, and itchy – like I want to go buy some film and just see what happens.
This feels like a good companion to a post I created during my last 365 project nearly two years ago: art of everyday life.
Nothing is more intimate (and more overlooked) than the objects we handle every day. These stalwarts exude a simple beauty, weathering the rituals of our days and bearing the marks of our journeys.
It’s been a long couple of weeks in the ‘real life’ o-sphere.
Then, last night around 9:30, I was just wrapping up work when I realized I hadn’t taken a picture all day.
Cue the Hail Mary.
The image I ended up creating doesn’t shout like the Guns N’ Roses-inspired post title. It doesn’t convey the Calgon-take-me-away vibe that is a heavily recurring theme around here lately. But, this surprisingly pleasing image did restore my faith in the daily practice.
Picking up my camera forces me to focus. That, in turn, requires me to breathe. To be calm. And, then, I’m lost in the process and everything else falls away. That’s what this picture expresses: the art born out of the crisis. The calm after the storm.