This photo goes along with my other “Dream” shot. Taking what is a very real piece of art and turning it into something dream or vision-like. Blurring lines between reality and illusions. Photographers have a wonderful power to turn reality into something else. To make fantasy collide with fact. These images are a delight to make and they inspire me to continue to experiment.
These big power lines run right next to one of my favorite abandoned houses. They cut right through the fields. I’ve shot them before. They make an interesting shot. They’ve always looked like giants to me. Tall wooden or steel giants holding the lines that feed the electric world we live in. There they stand, always on duty, braving whatever Indiana has to throw at them. Tall, silent and brave.
Every two weeks I find myself here. Sitting. Waiting. Hoping. Doctors are nothing new for me. Familiar to the point of annoyance. Hospitals, just the same. I’ve fought my way through. Ten surgeries solidified the end of one ailment and the beginning of another. Its almost habitual now. To be there. Know the routine. The “hurry up and wait” moment. I don’t mind it so much now as I did then. The hardest is watching the kids come through. Hearing their quiet sobs because they don’t understand what is going on or why they go through the pain. If I could, I would take it all on for them.
Thank you to all health care professionals for taking the time to study, learn, love, care, hope & treat.
I’ve talked about the piano before. I talked about the keys and how they wait for hands to create magic with them. And today hands and keys meet. I love to watch the hands move across the keys, music flowing as the hands flow. I sit there and watch fingers press, move, up, down, glide across, with power, now with softness, lightly, then strongly, quicker and quicker, and then slow, very slow. All the while notes coming out of the piano and I receive them and music is created and the experience can be incredible. Because music is more than just a tune heard. It’s more than just sound from the radio. It’s pure and raw emotion flowing from hands to instrument and flying out, transmitting all of that emotion and power and feeling to the person listening. It’s communication. It’s passion and pain and love and joy and ecstasy and it can hit you like a hammer or caress you like soft hands and it’s amazingly wonderful and these words can barely describe it. Because music is heard and felt and seen. It’s experienced. It’s lived.