Just because my parents were compulsive busy-bodies, it doesn’t mean that everyone else is, but I always wonder if people nearby notice me constantly rushing about with my camera.
-“There she is again, that old woman on the hill, I think she’s batty.”
Or more likely, in this part of the world, they would say “she’s nuts.”
Because ever since I came here, a year ago, I have been taking pictures of the same views.
But the thing is, the images are never the same. The light is different, the season is different, the wind is blowing, or not, the sun is out or not. The time of day is different.
There may or may not, be geese flying by!
When I ditched my burdensome baggage and travelled here unladen, my view of everything changed.
I always appreciated beauty, always noticed pretty plants and trees. God knows I always raved about every animal I ever saw.
But now I seem to see everything more vibrantly and with more enthusiasm.
I see colours I never saw before and not just colours, but texture in all things.
Furthermore, I have lost the voice in my head which used to say, “bad composition”, “wrong angle”, “bad light”, “not worth taking!”
My father was a good photographer and artist, but I saw no passion in his work. Only precision, total adherence to the rules he was taught, based on someone else’s opinion.
Now I take, or make, the pictures that please my sense of aesthetics. It is true, I would be a lot less active with my camera if it was still necessary to have my work printed from a film at great expense.
Some modern improvements are very cool!
Here, of course, is the emotional content, demonstrated by Grant and Sikkim.
The past few days have been slightly tiresome which has brought on the ever lurking headache, so unable to persuade my brain to perform, I thought I should fall back on something I do without deep thought, something I seem to just do. Which these days, is take pictures.
At any given time of day, one is likely to walk past the kitchen and catch Colin sitting in the sink.