Light Fantastic
Bella asked me to explain what inspires me. Specifically, she asked me to explain it with a photo. I really did laugh out loud when I read her request because these days even specks of dust inspire me. My inspiration seems to bubble up over the most random thoughts these days; the tiniest things, the most ordinary of things. Yesterday afternoon it was smooth rocks in my back yard. Last night I was inspired by a rusty skeleton key. This morning it was the scent of peanut butter. Last week I had a full-on love affair with half a pound of mortadella and the color pink. The week before that...well you get the idea. My inspirations come from everywhere.
For the purposes of giving Bella an answer I had to choose one thing but I suppose it is still an intanglible. It's the way the light changes when the seasons do. You can't really touch ambient light, can you? You can feel it it touching you but can you touch it yourself? Voila--inspiration. On the heels of succumbing to the early darkness of winter comes the lengthening light. I caught myself sighing contendedly and pointing out to AppleJack that it was not dark as we approached the dinner hour. I pointed to reflected light on the wall in the next room and drew his attention to how much light was still coming in the window on that side of the house. I couldn't help it. I had to get up and go outside if only to acknowledge that I could do so without turning on the exterior lights. As I sat on the lowest step of the back deck and silently honored the sun's lingering gift my dog leaned against me and for just a moment was also silent and still.
(c) 2012, ACG
For the purposes of giving Bella an answer I had to choose one thing but I suppose it is still an intanglible. It's the way the light changes when the seasons do. You can't really touch ambient light, can you? You can feel it it touching you but can you touch it yourself? Voila--inspiration. On the heels of succumbing to the early darkness of winter comes the lengthening light. I caught myself sighing contendedly and pointing out to AppleJack that it was not dark as we approached the dinner hour. I pointed to reflected light on the wall in the next room and drew his attention to how much light was still coming in the window on that side of the house. I couldn't help it. I had to get up and go outside if only to acknowledge that I could do so without turning on the exterior lights. As I sat on the lowest step of the back deck and silently honored the sun's lingering gift my dog leaned against me and for just a moment was also silent and still.
(c) 2012, ACG
*gorgeous* photo.
and your written reflection so resonates with me...
Reply to this
Loving your abstract shot ~ very creative ~namaste, carol (A Creative Harbor) linked w/ 52 Photos ^_^
Reply to this
I noticed the light last night when I left the house at 6:30 pm and it was still light out. I guess Spring really is coming. I love the way you wrote your story, and the photograph.
Reply to this