Window into Winter
"Photography is the story I fail to put into words."
- Destin Sparks
Quiet Light - December
Donald McGuire
When photography or other creative interests become part of who you are, your senses become heightened. Each time of year has a mood. As does each time of day. We can feel the light, weather, and moment, furthering our connection to time and place. Some days more than others. The short daylight and the quiet of winter lead to silent observation.
It was December, late afternoon, as I stood in my wife's childhood home in Portugal and, over my shoulder, noticed the late-day low light streaming across the bed.
Quiet Light
Donald McGuire
It immediately triggered a vision of a favorite painting - Andrew Wyeth's "Master Bedroom." Exposing ourselves to artwork creates a visual catalog that forever influences and inspires without awareness
There are two kinds of photography - go out into the world and seek images, or, more rewarding, just 'be' and let them come to you. The latter takes a certain level of mindfulness, of being open to what is around you. To wait more than to chase. To sense more than to see.
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.
Yet, in that void, I felt the starkness of the approaching winter and the comfort of shelter. The warm and quiet light, the earthy tones, and the slight billowing in the curtain combined to eliminate whatever harried thoughts were on my mind.
We spend little time absorbing a photo, given today's social media blitz of images. Often, little time making a photograph. And the quieter the frame, the quicker it falls under the radar. Unfortunately, It takes time to see what isn't there and yet longer to fill the space with what might be.
Slowing down also applies to considering why specific themes and subjects appeal to us. While there is an immediate visual connection to Wyeth's classic painting, there is a deeper connection to his recurring theme of windows - a subject he returned to so often. More than a portal to light, windows are symbols.
They symbolize a transition between two worlds. Literally, of course, from inside to outside. But symbolically between two states of being. The photo presented in this post represents the shift from autumn to winter, day to night, and warmth to cold. Beyond transition, it means shelter, comfort, and silence. A home long lived in.
These transitions are universal, something we can each relate to. However, Art becomes personal when we apply universal themes to our circumstances. It was also a transition from a life in the United States to a life in Portugal, as I had only moved three weeks prior. And even a casual glance suggests the timelessness of one of the world's oldest republics - Portugal.
And therein lies the challenge to both creators and consumers of Art. The casual 'that's nice' glance or deeper introspection from 'What do I see' to 'What do I feel.'
Further Reference
