An autumnal companion to this spring reflection. I never tire of the play of light, color, and movement on the water. This image to me shines with all the intensity of a bright, sunny fall day, full of unbelievably intense color.
The other night I completed my first ever trail run. It’s something I’ve been interested in trying for awhile now. It was really hot and the hills kicked my butt but I’m excited to try again in a couple weeks.
After a shower, I opened a cold beer and cooked up the food that has sustained me for over 20 years: a bean and cheese burrito smothered in salsa and sour cream.
At that moment (approximately 9:30pm), in my PJ’s with my hot dinner in front of me and my fork in hand, I realized that, AGAIN, I had forgotten to take a photo all day. I pulled out my iPhone and snapped two godawful pictures of my plate. When it came time to post one, I was mortified: it looked like a burrito massacre. The light was bad, the salsa was garishly red, and there was nothing remotely artful about any of it. Still, I figured it was better than showing up empty-handed for the third time in a week.
I couldn’t bring my self to share the photo. So I went completely berserk with Photoshop and turned it into something I could stomach.
My eye is drawn to pattern. But it is the flaw or abnormality that makes it truly interesting. In theory, tire tracks in the sand should be ordered, regular; I like how the tracks don’t hold. The relative strength or weakness of the impressions. The mild disturbances. The parts that are missing. There is so much to see (even when there is nothing to see).
It all started here, back in February. I got really fascinated with creating minimal, linear compositions with sticks, stems, & snow. At the time, I wondered how I might explore the series in other seasons, since part of what really made it work was the solid white backdrop.
Today’s image works on the same aesthetic with the bare stems left over from winter hanging over the black water of the creek. It looks like the winter scene in negative.
97/365: plant stems over the creek
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