Ode to the Sun
16 Jan 2012
When I first came across the flare created by the iPhone I was annoyed by it. Its random nature of color spill and intensity irked me. In the course of a year, I only took a few snapshots. These snapshots became forgotten ghosts.
Two summers ago, I took a photograph of one of my boys that I thought was good. I thought the flare and the narrow range of tones were an important element of the photograph. Soon after I forgot about this photo.
Toward the end of last winter, as we were drowning in snow here in the Midwest, my boys were having a blast outside on their sleds. It was a sunny day, warm considering. There was light everywhere, the snow multiplying the sun's blinding rays. Everything shimmered.
On a mound of snow, with the sun behind them, bright, red sleds in their hands, my boys seemed bigger than life. And the sun, that bright sun, was a central character in a play that I was just beginning to understand.
The wise advice to avoid shooting with the sun in the frame. I decided to make it the center of the photograph.
I thought I would explore flare using the iPhone camera feature, but instead I found energy and play. I found the intensity of childhood. I found laughter.
And I also found its playground.
I found life.
I was inspired. At this time I came across Instagram. It was an instant match: The phone brought the intensity of light, and Instagram made it alive, it gave light its voice and heart.
My search is about inspiration: it's about waking one morningwith a melody on your pillow, carrying it on your tongue for days.The pattern becoming a pulse that ripples outward in every direction, seeing how it reverberates when it touches something, looking for its natural frequency.
Perhaps the melody will become a tune one hums, and nothing more. It doesn't matter. It is about the moment lived, and living it fully.
Here's a little tune by Michael Franti and Spearhead that is full of warmth and inspiring and embodies what I'm trying to do with this project:
Shoot with the Sun in view.