Today my age is the same as the year I was born: 56. While to some, that might be a reason to celebrate, to me it just means that I’m older. It’s nothing to be proud of, or a sign of anything, it just is a fact.
Making photographs is a way for me to make use of my time, a means of pursuing philosophy, maybe, in a variant form. While I am interested in a certain sense of beauty in my work, it is by no means what generally passes for beauty in photography. I have little interest in scenics, the grand landscape with over-saturated skies and billowing clouds, etc. etc., especially the over-done HDR variety. Flowers are mainly of interest to me when they are well into their decay phase. And so on for most photographic genres.
What I find most fascinating is light and its interaction with stuff. In the photo above, that stuff is ice and a small rock, partially shadowed, but with effects of light spilling out into the shadowy areas. At the same time, what the photo contains of the world is less important than the structure and the overall aesthetic impression, the play of the shapes and the gradations of tone.
While, when I first started thinking about his post, I thought it would be more bleak (and in a few weeks it will be four years since my first step into death), it seems that art provides a foothold and a discipline that can form a foundation for thought. This thought can be transposed into photography. When it connects with my consciousness then the beauty that my art expresses finds a way into the world as a new thing, a thing that puts a conception, an interpretation, into the photograph.
So I will continue to seek out my beauty, the meaning enfolded in the world.