We relate most deeply to music, art, writing, and photography when they reveal a personal truth that feels universal. It need not be monumental — sometimes it is only a passing thought or quiet feeling that connects us. Photography begins long before the shutter is pressed — in the deeper sources of inspiration that lead us beyond the moment.
There are two aspects of 'quiet' that matter deeply to images found in the transitions between light and season. The first aspect may seem contradictory. Here, quiet is not the lack of sound, but the presence of calm.
Our creative passions rise from deep within — so deep that it can take years to connect the dots — to recognize where our vision quietly aligns with past masters, movements, and moments.
And here, it is felt and not seen because it is the absence of something and not the presence of it. There was no sense of time, only the low light like so many December days passed by.
An image of a white pigeon satisfying its thirst is not bird photography in the classic sense. And like many of the photos that grow on us over time, it isn't about the primary subject but rather what it represents and how it makes us feel.
Having always treated black-and-white photography as an afterthought, I landed on a project to pivot away from the comfort zone of unabashed color landscapes.
As often happens, slowing down alters the perception. The long view of the olive grove shows neat, evenly spaced rows of like-sized trees. However, the details can be wonderfully chaotic.