I wonder what you see in this photograph.
Photography is one of the loves of my life.
It fills me up. It makes me happy. It brings me joy.
I’ve always loved art.
To create something with your hands that was once just an imagination in your mind’s eye is a kind of magical experience. When I’m making art, there’s a sense of allowing something deep within to come forth without inhibition.
In art, this is nowhere to get to, nothing to “have” to do.
Art is made just for the sake of itself.
Writing is one of my arts.
Before I sit to type, each word is crafted on paper with pen. There’s something to forming the letters and seeing the ink flow, of hearing the pen drag across the paper and noticing the emptiness of the page fill. It changes the quality of what comes through me.
It almost makes the experience more genuine.
Likewise, with photography, I can pick up my weighty tool and create with it by moving parts and pressing buttons. By playing with light, I render an image of a moment frozen in time.
I love photography above all the other mediums I’ve used both past and present because the viewer gets to make their own call about this moment of reality.
Yes, I as the artist can change an angle or shift the lighting to evoke a mood, but ultimately, I am simply an observer, and the individual observing my finish work of art is no less informed than I am on that one moment of life, real life, without filter or dialogue.
Photography allows me to tell you a story and still let you decide what your perspective on that story is.
When I write to you, I’ve skewed your opinion by sharing my own. When I show you a photograph, you get to do that forming all on your own.
And then we can talk. And then I can give you context.
But first, you get an untainted shot at processing a moment of reality all on your own.
To many more shots of life, each with their own story.
All my love,
Nat