we all live under the same sky, same stars, warmed by the same sun and that makes us so close. united. together.
if you really look at it fast
it looks like im blowing out some kind of white stuff thats eating the bokeh :P
haha anna, this made me chuckle out loud. I mean laugh
An Ode To Us, The Picture Takers of our Generation
An Ode
we have entered into a new era. A time of “change” and a period of unrest, tumult, and ever changing ideals.
I have been doing a lot of thinking lately.
Thinking about what we do.
It occurs to me at the most odd of times. When my mind is most clear. AT night, right before bed. On a long and lonesome bikeride. When Im imagining what we are all doing across the globe. When I decide to take a picture.
It occurs.
I think of all the people who’s glances we attract. Running across the highway to stand amongst the cars and capture it.
Putting on layers of clothes during the middle of summer because of an idea we’ve discovered.
Showing our bare skin in the middle of winter because it goes against what everyone else believes should be done.
Staying up late across the nation, unified, to watch the stars.
Everyone leaving their houses at the time of Golden Hour, different for each, with friends, with cameras, with tripods, with trinkets. To capture the final rays of sun. SO we can be blinded when we are driving to our location. SO we can catch lens flares in our photos. So we can make those silhouettes dance. SO we can find everything made anew, made golden, made beautiful all over again.
When we drag loads of a set to the most distant and remote area
for one shot
we buy flour, we buy beads, glitter, feathers, and amass of other items to throw and snap our shutters close when our hands are lifted above our heads in a silent victory that we share on our common ground
A victory only other fellow photographers understand. Because it is a victory chanted in the battlefields on flickr.
Flickr
where we all met
where it happened
what started it all
the niche that binds us all even when we span across the web cities and states and countries that make up our globe.
I thought of the photographer whose hair glowed red as she tossed it in the air, dancing, twirling, spinning madly on, and the shutter of her film, the shutter of her camera opening
closing
opening
closing
take after take after take for that perfect shot
I thought of the photographer, who hiked, who swam, who climbed, who ran, who biked, who drove, who flew, who above all other things, went to take that photo that would capture the minds, hearts, eyes, attention of people everywhere.
I thought of the photographers who although being foreign to one another unite everyday, in solemn silence, in loud uproar, in boisterous clamor, in fierce applause, in righteous resolve to create art, to create beauty, to create wonderfully crafted magic.
To create.
I thought of the photographer who took a shot and couldnt wait to show his family. Whos family wondered why the excitement. Why the rush, why the importance. Whose family did not get what he, what she saw. The beauty in a moment frozen in time, to be enriched in the strands of space and fragment of forever.
Who also showed strangers, friends, fellow workers of photos, who met the work with appreciation, amazement, wonder, love, and ecstasy!
I thought of the photographers, all these mentioned and more, those I know, those I wish to know, those I am privileged to know, those I love, who every day
every day
do this for you
for me
for themselves.
I thought of the photographers.
