Two great lessons in seeing so far this year:
• Liz is great at creating. In her mind she saw what it would be like to move a large painting that was upstairs to the downstairs. Seeing this new relationship of spaces and paintings never occurred to me. It is lovely. My mind tends to leave things where they are. Not wrong but different and, at times, limiting. Interesting how I think/don’t think. She is a constant inspiration as I learn how to see more of life for myself.
• I’ve gotten in the habit of having tea and reading the paper when I first get up, often long before the sun it up. This morning I realized I was inside reading what today’s weather would be (“sunny changing to rain”) as the sun was coming up outside. Jeez!
Good to get jostled like that and remember the paper and tea could wait but the spectacular gold-rimmed, pink clouds—as seen from the kitchen window—would not wait. In fact by the time I got boots, coat, hat, gloves and camera all in hand, what I’d wanted to see, and photograph, was long gone. The walk, however, was the perfect time to consider what I’d missed and to think about how I can rearrange this part of my day to have a chance at seeing more of what I really want to see: sunrises!
A simple composition of sand, stones and seaweed—compliments of the sea.
In looking over some photographs I took last fall on Martha’s Vineyard I was reminded of the temporal qualities of making many photographs, not just sunrises. Each wave rearranged the picture I found on the shore. No matter, however, as many of them were simply another stunning little miniature. I love the relationships of shapes and colors, so satisfyingly simple and, yet, could I ever create such a masterpiece from nothing like a painter might? At this point, honestly, I’m satisfied with seeing them and, when I have a camera, of doing my best to photograph them and share them here.
Changes, most of which I found quite beautiful, came with each wave.
Still Learning To See 