There are certain days, especially in winter, when the sun is so bright that the viewing lens of my camera is useless. On such days I rely on my intuition, my sense of feng shui, to frame a picture. The result is often a much more surreal and evocative image than I would have gotten had I seen exactly what I was shooting. I think there is a parallel between this experience and making a poem. Sometimes the original impulse is so bright, so blinding that one must set aside logic, the analytical tendency, and rush headlong into the abyss. This metaphor takes on yet another dimension when one is using a RAW-capable camera, because inevitably you capturing more than you could have seen even if you had been able to use your viewing lens. And beyond these considerations, being sun-blind activates a kind of looniness, if not madness, that emboldens you to do the impossible in the conviction that you might just get away with it. Your experience is not unlike Alexander’s generals telling him what he can do and what experience dictates he can’t do. He is sun-blind, or one might say blinded by his own self-image, and so he goes ahead and vanquishes the Persian Empire against the odds. The generals then have a further problem: are they dealing with a young egomaniac or a god? Worse yet, Alexander likes the generals’ problem. As I like the moment of sun-madness when I set aside everything I know about photography. Or, then again, maybe I’m matching what I know against the odds.
Posted on: Wed, 12 Mar 2014 17:45:18 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015