i’m trying to consider my photos in tiny projects. trying to let them breathe. stand alone. it’s very satisfying actually. i love order, and my mish mash collections of photos never feel as pleasing to me.
these shots come from a river walk a few weeks ago, one in which i was again disappointed — caught up in “expectations” as tara via rachel smartly point out in the comments here — because by the time we arrived, the sun was already dropping down. i had hoped to capture some birds, of course, and a little more of the colorful splendor of day’s end. but alas, it was too late. so i didn’t end up with anything remotely colorful; however, i did end up shooting through the bare thicket to get these, and i rather like them.
i love how these shots sort of beg you to peer inside and through. there is a little mystery about what you might find. it evokes, for me, a feeling i remember from childhood. the curiosity. the wonder. the tentative way we approach discovery, not sure we really want to see what we might find.
recently watched what remains: the life and work of sally mann, and i found the documentary so so inspiring. here are some words, mostly sally’s, that moved me while watching the film.
“for me, the local has two parts: my family and the land.”
“there is magic in the landscape.”
“it’s always been my philosophy to try and make art out of the everyday and ordinary. it never occurred to me to leave home to make art.”
“she sees something she just doesn’t want to forget.” — sally’s son, emmett mann, on how it became familiar to see his mom inspired to take a photo. he explains a look in her eye, and how he knew by that, there was no stopping her getting that shot.
also, here’s some other stuff i’ve enjoyed lately:
today is pretty 