It is not the composition of a photograph that attracts my attention.
Not the lighting, filters, or quality.
It is what is inside.
The texture, color, mood of the photograph.
Does is make me want to reach inside the photo and touch the subject?
Can I feel the sun or wind? Does it make emotions swirl inside my heart?
Does is it have colors so vibrant that my mind is instantly reminded of a hot summer day by the sea or a dark winter evening? Do you wish to step into the photo, if only for a second, to experience the moment first hand?
I am no judge of photography. Have no training and most likely, no real artistic eye. But I like the rawness of photography. Photos without touch-ups or filters.
I am enamored with the idea that you can, for all eternity, capture a fleeting memory
and hold it fast in your hand.
And so, to that end, I have been making myself take photos of our daily life. Trying to teach myself to see the small moments, the textures, colors, and sights of our home. To see if I can freeze time for just a moment before it flies by much too fast.
materico - (Italian) roughly meaning that the art is more richer in detail, more true to life.
I read this blog post by Mandy Len Catron from the New York Times and was fascinated.
This is an excerpt from that post.
"The questions reminded me of the infamous boiling frog experiment in which the frog doesn’t feel the water getting hotter until it’s too late. With us, because the level of vulnerability increased gradually, I didn’t notice we had entered intimate territory until we were already there, a process that can typically take weeks or months."
I'm going to ask David the 36 questions on our next date.
And I am definitely going to stare into his eyes for 4 minutes
I challenge you to do the same with your significant other. After all, a deeper level of intimacy with the person you love can only help your relationship. And you might be surprised what you learn.
As a parent, it never fails that when you have to use the restroom, there will follow, within 60 seconds of closing the door, a little voice calling to you. Muffled by lips pressed against the door jam, "Moooommmmyyyy!! I neeeedddd yooouuu!!!" rings out on the bathroom tile. And you, who just wanted a few precious seconds of solitude, growl back
"I. AM. BUSY!!!!"
You are frustrated, irritated and generally annoyed that your one moment, your single opportunity to have a moment of silence, was violated.
Or you could approach it with the mind of a child.
For example, the 4 year old goes in to use the potty. After a few moments the two year old, realizing she is now outside alone, comes inside to find out where he went. She quickly deduces his location. Opening the bathroom door, she swings it open wide. Still hanging on to the doorknob, she leaves her feet on the carpet, letting the door support her body as she dangles over the floor at an angle. With her free hand propped on her hip, she drawls out "Whatcha readin'?"
The 4 year old never misses a beat. "Thomas the Train. Wanna look at it with me?"
She happily hops in, climbs up on the top step of the stool on which he is propping his feet. There they sit, heads touching, as they pour over the adventures of Thomas.
No one is offended that their privacy is violated. She doesn't mind the aroma nor realize the fact that she is just sitting there while someone else answers the call of nature. He is glad for the company and is completely without embarrassment at the situation.
Now, I am not saying that I want another adult around when, well, you know when. But it struck me, watching them, that we could approach life with that attitude. When someone cramps our style, or the situation is not exactly as we had planned, just go with it. Find the good and enjoy the other persons' company.
Sort of goes with the whole "when life gives you lemons...".