shymaladason

I try to photograph is-ness, be-ing below movement, time out of time. In each place, to capture essence. In a garden, the fragrance, so the rose beckons from eye to sensation of scent to happiness. In Silicon Valley, dream made manifest, almost in defiance of reality. There and everywhere In California, the light’s intensity and expanse of sky, which is actually as the Luminist painters depicted it. Until I lived in California I did not know that western skies really were bigger, and glowed.

Each moment has infinite presence, and possibility; the paradox of photography is to be able to capture some distilled, intensified fraction of that infinity into single, 2-dimensional images that remind us of, and transmit more than, the moments the photographs were captured in, from the focused potential of a tightly curled rose bud to the fulfilled expanse of the Oracle world HQ towers reaching into a future sky, to the peace of a garden, tree and leaf and patience.

I try to approach photography from the kind of place achieved after an hour of yoga or dance practice: without conscious thought, body and eye and camera connectively submerged in the space and time. I take a hundred shots, and throw away one hundred minus one, always open to happy accident. For me, as yet, the photos I take surprise, and what comes out good and what does not turns my expectations on their head.

Welcome. Share my surprise, if you will.