Sweet memories

My photographs are not just photographs.

Now that’s an amazing statement Mice!

Yes, and somewhat simplistic, I know, I know.

Let me put it this way. They are a sort of external hard disc of my mind and I can shut my eyes and summon up every painting and photograph that I have ever created.

And what is more…

Yes Yes Yes ?

If I had never created them, my life would not be as it is now.

Whoa!. Heavy stuff!

Not really no. You see, what we create, what we create beyond ourselves, enriches us.

Let me give an example.

I was at the Printer’s this morning in Tolentino printing this image, testing again the limit of Mauro’s patience (he my print expert on RAW and Nikon imaging programme) And I asked him about a course he’d just finished on master printing. Cheekily I asked him if they ever, in these classes, talked about the experience, the actuality, of taking photographs. He span around at me in his swivel chair and said ‘Look, the first thing we are always told in these classes, is that the image you take is what is of supreme importance. It starts here. And to never attempt to work on an image that isn’t good, your best’

Nice that!

So this image above, for me, is about that instance of recognition, where you feel yourself part of what you are photographing. Where duality dissolves ;where you absorb the trees as they themselves absorb the first moister from their roots as winter releases then tenderly from its grip.

And now that creation is part of me; the trees, the dampness, the mist, the sky.

And that’s what is so marvelous about the medium.