Yesterday was dark. The sky was heavy with the rain season's last gasp. Soon the sky will turn blue and stay that way for months. For a person who likes the variety of weather, the last of the rain season makes me a bit sad.
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Photography is a medium that lends itself to series. Theme and variation. One can create a visual fugue with a photo series, a knitting of space and time into a fabric of singular vision. I know of no other medium that invites an artist to explore series in such a natural way.
When I was a young boy I would visit, with my grandparents, my great-great uncle's farm in South Jersey. That part of New Jersey, in those days, was flat and rural. I haven't been there in many years but I imagine it's still flat and probably less rural. I've heard stories that Uncle Walt's farm is now a condominium complex, a thought that often saddens me. For, in those days, the farm was a place both exotic and foreign, a spot where nothing much happened and nothing at all ever changed.
I have rekindled my love affair with black & white. For awhile I'd been seduced by the juiciness of vibrating color. Push and pull. Chroma. Intensity. Color is a magic carpet that can transport our emotions to faraway places. It is a lifetime obsession in emotion, physics, mathematics, chemistry, and alchemy. Once smitten, color is impossible to shake off. Lately, however, it has given me a hangover.
Every hike introduces one to new friends. Yesterday, on a hike at Point Reyes National Seashore there were few people to be found, only a cold fog that had settled in the night before. Our hike took us to a high mound of hill where we were to meet our only companions of the day; a herd of dairy cows.