The Poetry of the Unseen
This was a picture I took a few months ago, when winter was nearing its end one hail-covered afternoon. I am fascinated with the abstract in art; how can the blurry mingle with the concrete? It is not just the words love, hate, desire, apathy, justice, injustice, that strike a chord within us, but what they represent. In the same way, it is not just the trees that are what made this scene stand out to me, but their blockage of the vivid winter sky behind them. The pale yellow creeping from the horizon. The saturated, heavy blue of the sky. The turquoise-gray clouds whispering upward and outward. When I remember the day, the most detailed piece I can remember is the feeling. Hail snow falling in chunks the size of beach pebbles. Now they are frozen in time, caught by a snapping of the shutter. The modern man in me knew the science behind the hail, how they formed in the clouds, but the poet in me wondered, perhaps even wished it was something else. Something more. Spirits dancing in the clouds to hail the beginning of summer. I did not care if it were true or not. The idea, frolicking in the clouds of my mind, was happy enough to be considered.
The "modern man" and the "poet in you" is primarily the makeup of a lighting designer (the technology/knowledge mixed with the poetic) if the world we live in as a lighting designer. Very nice post and analysis of it. We will talk a lot about foreground and background later in the quarter - something that factors heavily in this photo.
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