Chasing Moments Of Light


There is something about chasing light. The scramble to find the right spot to be because you somehow feel you are not already there.


And then in ways that cannot fully be described, there you are, at the edge of somewhere where you pulled over after leaving the last spot you were in (which you thought was THE spot, and it was in its own way but you didn’t realise you would soon find this spot as well). There is a sense of passing in such moments, that short window of time and light, knowing that where and when you are standing is measured in seconds, maybe minutes.


It is beautiful, even more so than the sunrise-drenched Horizon and the quiet Rose in front where the Seagulls and Insects are just beginning to wake up. It is a sentiment expressed in the quiet rustle of the morning breeze. Those are easy moments to photograph in and they are hard moments to photograph in. It is difficult to not just remain perfectly still and silent and try to breathe as deeply as you can, soaking as much of that rare moment in to take with you when the time inevitably arrives and the light slips away. And you quietly set the camera away and climb back in your car and move on, in part because you have to and in part because there is other light to chase and other right spots to arrive at and be in.



Gino 1

I have a pain I cannot shake, just a name in a data base – I hesitate

Got some bad news that cannot wait. Are you sitting down?


His lead still hangs by the front door
Though he’s been dead for five years or more
He buried him on the moor
So that he could keep him close


It broke his heart and it made him old
Tries to rebuild but it just erodes
Some people say that’s the way it goes
But he don’t feel that way


Something dies when a star is born
I met Simone Felice and Mike Scott
It didn’t make me feel different
I guess I lost all my innocence
Way too long ago


You called my bluff and you won the fight
I ran outside into the serious moonlight
I had a lighter that didn’t light
Well I know I shouldn’t smoke
I was gone, I was free to leave
Tears in my eyes so I couldn’t see
But I made my way back home


Casual Fascination

AM5 copyOne of the greatest gifts of photography is the ability to be fascinated by something as seemingly mundane as an abandoned child’s bike, a discarded chair or an empty parking lot. In all fairness it wasn’t simply an empty parking lot, but rather the light during a sandstorm, late one afternoon drifting across the sand peppered surface of an empty parking lot. But that is still fairly mundane. Not many people are sitting at home and think to themselves, you know what I want to do today? It’s not dinner, it’s not clubbing, it’s empty parking lots. Not many people! But I am happy to belong to the people who do think such things. Because that’s what photography does for me, it gives me the tools I need to notice such things and a strengthened sense of creativity to appreciate them.

And I am thankful for that. It isn’t even about being able to make an interesting photo of such things, but rather simply the noticing of them. I think this image is alright, I doubt I will ever print it, it’s interesting enough to post along with this short train of thought, so that counts for something. But the value that came from this experience was all in the experience itself, standing there in a big, open parking lot that was a few hours removed from being packed with cars and people, that was noisy with human activity and had become silent, the play of the different colour temperatures of light across its surface, and the speed at which the clouds were traveling on the stormy breeze through the skies above.

P1I also found my shadow exploring the emptiness. I know that technically it is always there, following me endlessly around on my travels, whether it wants to or not. Sometimes I notice its companionship, sometimes I know I don’t, but yet it remains right there. I turned around, surveying the light, looking for any last moments of the day to photograph, and there it was stretching out in front of me. Was it in repose? In waiting? Bored? Anticipating? I have no idea. I never do. But it did hold still long enough for me to make a photo of it in that light. Within a minute or two, the sun had dipped those crucial extra couple of degrees and my shadow, though still there in some sense, had nonetheless dissipated, immersing itself unto invisibility in the greater pool of shadow that stretched across the land.

P2All in all, it was a good moment to be in and one I doubt I would have ever found without the benefit of photography.