I reminisced the days of wandering, whether on steep sand dunes in Death Valley or on the boardwalk paths of our shared nearby. Joey and I would grab our gear and interpret our surroundings through glass elements pointing light onto a camera’s sensor. On 3 by 2 frames, we’d compose and imagine and stretch and reach to discover and create. Was it the time spent together, the creative process, the fresh air that reinvigorated us? Yes… those things all.
But deadlines and assignments, expectations and monotony turned art to occupation.
But sometimes you have to go through that. Sometimes Dorothy needs to experience Oz to understand Kansas. Sometimes George Bailey needs to encounter dark to appreciate light. And sometimes Phil Connors needs to lament tediousness and monotone to long for beauty and saturation.
On this past Sunday morning, early, while the air was chilly and before duty beckoned us into our day, Joey and I set out on the path. He lifted the viewfinder to his right eye and it seemed like a dawning to me. Like the warm glow of the sun lifting up off of the horizon.
And an artistry restored…