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).
142/365: sand tracks
In another part of the town, the greens are coming on more aggressively.
This is nature’s riot. The astounding co-existence of so many life forms all just doing their thing, thriving along, being glorious individuals together in a beautiful entangled mess.
It’s something for us to aspire to.
109/365: springscape
Sometimes, I just don’t have the words. When that happens, I rely on other people’s. This favorite quotation could easily be my personal motto:
“Always be on the lookout for the presence of wonder.” – E. B. White
76/365: ice patterns, refreeze, minnehaha creek
The patterns on dead logs always make me think of ancient civilizations. They strike me as a means of communication, like cave paintings or hieroglyphics. Are these these lines a map for future generations of beetles? Or are they simply a record? A collective “we were here” scrawled by millions of footfalls across a wall of rotting wood.
99/365: old log hieroglyphic
Sunshine is always welcome. But it doesn’t really pack a punch – as far as noticeable warmth goes – until March.
Yesterday the icicles that weren’t dripping furiously had already crashed to the ground and lay in piles of crystalline shards, half buried in the snow. I thought it would be all about the beautiful blue sky. And it did make me smile. But I couldn’t resist the graphic appeal of the crisp, black shadows (which only exist, in true yin-yang fashion, when the sun shines brightly).
66/365: icicles and shadows
The beauty of the 365 project lies precisely in its relentlessness. The need to make a picture every day – no matter what – forces you to push your eye and your imagination when you might otherwise shrug and say, there’s nothing to see here. But, the truth is, if you stretch far enough, there is always something.
56/365: chair with shadow and newspapers
Had I known yesterday how frustrating my day would be today (as I try to get my new printer working – five hours and counting…), I would have photographed a brick wall instead of a wood fence. Then I would have the perfect thing to bang my head against.
36/365: wooden fence
I am drawn to the graceful forms of the drapery, the languid folds basking in the afternoon sun. Drawn across the window, the fabric veils the world within like the cover of a book. Untold stories unfold. I am unable to witness, but free to imagine.
4/365: white draperies in the sun
P.S. Sorry for missing yesterday’s post! I was having technical issues and couldn’t access the day’s photos! Back up and running today…
I spent all day yesterday shopping, cooking, doing laundry, and packing for our vacation at the cabin. Hoping all this work on the front end guarantees me some ‘doing nothing’ time sitting by the lake. With all the activity, it was 9:30pm when I realized that I hadn’t taken my 30 Days of Creativity picture yet. I spied the loaf of baked banana bread I’d baked earlier in the day and had some fun with the patterns in its foil-wrapped surface.
Day 29: Banana Bread Wrapped in Aluminum Foil
P.S. I’ll be wrapping up with Day 30 up at the lake so it may take a few days to post.
This is my favorite kind of image – something mundane turned mesmerizing through the lens and the mind’s eye. It has all kinds of beautiful suggestion and also works on a totally abstract level. I keep thinking that it looks like amber in a re-animated, liquid form. And I imagine all those imprioned insects stretching and wriggling their legs after so many petrified eons…
sunshine on the water (looks so lovely, sunshine almost always gets me high)
avant garden 365 