277/365: water glass reflection
This shadow/reflection reminds me of something interplanetary. Or maybe an ultrasound. I like that an image can resemble two such disparate things.
What do you see?
230/365: sunrise, lake harriet
One of my favorite parts of summer is my daily sunrise yoga practice at Lake Harriet. Friday morning was particularly glorious: a cool, late summer breeze, pink-tinged clouds, the lonely screech of sea gulls and clank of sailboat moorings. It was all so beautiful I had to pull out my iPhone to take a picture. I’m so glad I did. I want to remember that August morning long after the snow flies.
Thank you Lake Harriet Yoga Project for the wake up calls…
It was one of those desperate moments when I realize, just before crawling into bed, that I’ve forgotten to take a photo. (This seems to be happening with increasing frequency, unfortunately.)
In those moments, I try not to throw in the towel. No matter how tired I am, or how dark it is, or how really uninteresting my bedroom appears, I believe there is something to see. Some material for art-making to be found. I always grab my camera and start looking. Sometime while cursing under my breath.
Count on light, reflection, and shadow to come through in the clutch every time…
What’s that, you ask? Fairy dust? Nope, just dust.
It was one of those golden hour moments, where the sunlight is just streaming in and making everything look so beautiful. I couldn’t help be enchanted (and, of course, appalled) at the way the sunlight revealed thousands of tiny dust particles. They sparkled, kissed by the sun, like flecks of gold suspended in mid-air. It was so quiet and lovely. It stopped me in my tracks like a fond memory.