I love the fluidity of these liminal spaces between winter and spring. The ice folding back from the shoreline exposing inky cold water, translucence and grit. There is much beauty in the rituals of the seasons.
They have only just begun, really. It was a few days ago that the snow finally decided to swing by and tuck in the plants and trees with a thick white blanket. I confess that I love it. What is more peaceful than a shrouded winter night? The snowflakes, relinquished from clouds, slipping by in whispers. Fresh snow for a fresh year.
These photographs are from a late summer fashion shoot with gorgeous costumes designed and sewn by Vanessa Mayville. These images have been floating around in my mind for few days so I thought I’d post a few.
I am getting to know a new small camera that can be used underwater. A camera that doesn’t mind a rainy day or a swim in a river, or maybe the odd little bump. It hasn’t had much use yet but here are a few pictures from a canoe trip the camera has recently been on.
River lilies that have been inverted in processing to bring out the lovely forms. Lots of possibilities to explore, not enough time!
These are macro photographs of some of the little seedheads in my garden that are no bigger than my thumbnail. They have been mostly snuggled under snow for eternity the winter… But today spring actually seemed like it temporarily meant business and it got to work rolling back those white carpets that have been covering the fields and lawns and sleepy flowerbeds. A brilliant day full of warmth, sunshine and riotous birdsong. Who could possibly stay indoors?
(click on image for a larger and more detailed view)
*the modern, gritty, winter version.
Which is not at all like the *original Tangled Garden that inspired the title: a painting made almost 100 years ago, all brush strokes and rich autumn colours. The image here is urban: all road salt and gravelly snow at the edges of the concrete city. ‘Painted’ in 1/20th of a second at the press of a button.
But it would be very difficult to create this image again. The landscape and the light change continually. The synthesis of camera movement and car speed would never quite be the same. To me there is something hopeful and lovely about the whole gritty mess; a push and pull between the focused and blurred, between earth and snow. I like, too, how the subtle flecks of gold graze some of the vegetation – the last bit of light before it falls away. And the idea of painting with a camera, and making images that we might not actually see otherwise (but perhaps still feel).