Sometimes life is frenetic in the south. Mostly because we let little things gain importance and overwhelm us. Rather than seek peace and quiet, I’d prefer a visit back home to New York. Sometimes I honestly miss the taxis and even the pigeons ( as long as they maintain a respectful distance).People expect New York to be fast paced and overgrown because that’s its reputation. But, though the pace in the city is the composite of emotion, energy, and possibility, it creates a pulse that lets you know you are alive and that at any moment you might find yourself traveling in a new direction . Inspiration and wonder thrive while its sounds, sights, and rhythm revive the soul.
Tag Archives: inspiration
Borrowing a rowboat filled with Chihuly glass that I shot in St.Louis several years ago, adding some spice and playing around freely, provided my imagination with the perfect mode of transportation. Whimsical and fragile during the day, it would sail powered only by a deep breath. At night, after settling into it carefully, we would glide through the sky and out twinkle the stars until sunrise would lead us home. A perfect vehicle for imaginary journeys, and it’s free.
Take a quiet, rainy, gray Saturday morning with little ambition.Add a bit of a bridge shot in IR, layer a watercolored paper towel,then an invert filter . Hopefully this results in a dreamy garden landscape. Like cooking but with less mess and zero calories, it’s just as satisfying. Enjoy!
Unexpectedly, one of my hard drives crashed. Thousands of photos remain trapped in a plastic encased tomb. Unsure of what I actually lost, I began searching through the hundreds of backup CD’s I’ve burned.(Really, I had burned them!) So much of the raw materials remained but I rarely save experiments until I’m happy with them. Therefore, many layered pieces are MIA. I should be inconsolable, but I discovered that I’m not.At least not right at this moment. As I searched through CD’s, I found many images that I had forgotten. It was rediscovering that specific point in time. To celebrate, I present a nine-year old sunset !
A storm approaches – pearly gray sky turns to slate. Slashes of charcoal add menace and contrast to the lacy shrubs.The wind murmurs and joins the conversation as tingly currents spider up my spine. Did I head for shelter, a prudent , practical choice, or face the intensity and revel in the forces? Often the difficult decision is whether to hide or face the storm.
Many might choose Paris or Istanbul as a runaway destination. Having only a few hours on a Sunday afternoon and an expired passport eliminated those possibilities. Instead, Memorials Park Cemetery was my destination, a road trip of about eight miles.The cemetery is home to the Crystal Grotto and its fantasy shaped structures.I chose my infrared camera because it would accentuate the otherworldly feel . I viewed the cave and tree as imaginary housing, fit for visiting sprites or hobbits.
The faux bois structures suit the park well and it’s hard to believe they are cement.A folk artist from Mexico, Dionicio Rodriguez created the vision from his imagination. Hired by the cemetery’s founder, Clovis Hinds, Rodriguez earned $75.00 per week over a ten year period during the Depression. His creations are dream – like and religiously significant.
Working in steel and copper to form supports, the structures were formed in cement over wire. Using his hands, twigs and dinner utensils for tools, he simulated wood structures that suggest fairies and woodland creatures.Calling his work, “el trabajo rustic”, Rodriguez built Abraham’s Oak that towers 15 feet tall and 9 feet in diameter.
There is the Cave of Machpelah which is named for a burial cave from the Holy Land. The reflecting pool is the Pool of Hebron, and the Grotto appears as a mountain shaped form which houses the crystal cave. All are entirely hand-built. Walking into the cave you are stunned to find formations of limestone, rock quartz crystal and cement forming backgrounds for murals of scenes of the life of Jesus.
Last week I came across this note attached to the door of the classroom across the hall. My friend’s seven year-old son had left it for her that morning. It made me laugh and got me thinking. I realized that as a child I had never tried running away. Some people run because of anger, boredom, a desire to travel – so what was wrong with me? Maybe back then life wasn’t so bad where I was or maybe my sense of adventure was still developing. Now it would be so easy to compile a list of exotic destinations from Paris to Istanbul, dreams of the Orient Express or steamers across the ocean.Of course during the school year, it just isn’t practical or affordable.Lately though, at least for the last three weeks, it seemed I’d run away from my blog. Inspiration evaporated, my lonely camera sat silently and unseeing on the counter, I felt caged. So , yesterday I ran away from home for a few hours .The fresh air helped to banish the stale ideas and fears.The fantasy aspect of my destination revived my imagination.The shadows inspired my camera. Running away was a healthy choice and in tomorrow’s post you’ll see some of the results.