Everything is always moving, always changing. Nothing ever stays the same.
Blink and you'll miss it.
How so very true.
This winter’s night, the sunset had come and gone in one swift blink of an eyelid - in that one quick flicker it has all changed.
Do we only notice it quicker in winter because the transition is so gradual in summer? ...endless summer days, clinging on to the warmth of a summer's day at ten o'clock at night, no way of knowing where the day meets the night...
Tonight for the first time in a long time - I noticed. I was looking down, lost in all consuming thought then for some reason I looked up. Before me, the sight of the setting sun greeted me as if it had been calling my name, beckoning me, begging me to look and watch and admire, as a child might to its mother, craving, yearning, needing attention and recognition. “Oh there you are darling, and look at you! How beautiful you are.”
…The evening sky beams burn brightly into my admiring gaze, bestowing all its magnificent splendour over me and I bathe languorously in its beauty, for as long as I can hold onto it, knowing this is only a temporary indulgence; a momentary sight to be relished with the awareness it will not and cannot last forever.
WE try to sieze a moment that we want to hold onto and treasure forever with a photograph. A snapshot in time of a loved one, smiling; captured and maintained perfectly forever in that one single, special existence that you wish could last a lifetime… I grab my camera to freeze this moment in time. Even as I take the photo everything has moved and changed slightly, such fragile, delicate manoeuvre, normally missed by the human eye. Between just two shots, my little wooden Cuban bird hanging from the window has gently swayed this way and that, dancing on a background of blended hues; a canvas of molten oranges and watercolour pinks.
I can be inspired by anything, if I allow myself to; everything can have that intoxicating mixture of cause and effect, if you notice enough; if you stop.
How many sunsets have I missed? How many fleeting moments of beauty have I allowed to go unnoticed… to pass me by? How different would I be if I watched every single sunset? Or sunrise? If I gave myself permission. To just stop. And look.
To just stop. And be.
With every little precious glance I feel like I am coming back, like I’m breathing life into my own canvas again.
I look back up and it is dark.
The sun has gone.
Blink and you'll miss it.
How so very true.
This winter’s night, the sunset had come and gone in one swift blink of an eyelid - in that one quick flicker it has all changed.
Do we only notice it quicker in winter because the transition is so gradual in summer? ...endless summer days, clinging on to the warmth of a summer's day at ten o'clock at night, no way of knowing where the day meets the night...
Tonight for the first time in a long time - I noticed. I was looking down, lost in all consuming thought then for some reason I looked up. Before me, the sight of the setting sun greeted me as if it had been calling my name, beckoning me, begging me to look and watch and admire, as a child might to its mother, craving, yearning, needing attention and recognition. “Oh there you are darling, and look at you! How beautiful you are.”
…The evening sky beams burn brightly into my admiring gaze, bestowing all its magnificent splendour over me and I bathe languorously in its beauty, for as long as I can hold onto it, knowing this is only a temporary indulgence; a momentary sight to be relished with the awareness it will not and cannot last forever.
WE try to sieze a moment that we want to hold onto and treasure forever with a photograph. A snapshot in time of a loved one, smiling; captured and maintained perfectly forever in that one single, special existence that you wish could last a lifetime… I grab my camera to freeze this moment in time. Even as I take the photo everything has moved and changed slightly, such fragile, delicate manoeuvre, normally missed by the human eye. Between just two shots, my little wooden Cuban bird hanging from the window has gently swayed this way and that, dancing on a background of blended hues; a canvas of molten oranges and watercolour pinks.
I can be inspired by anything, if I allow myself to; everything can have that intoxicating mixture of cause and effect, if you notice enough; if you stop.
How many sunsets have I missed? How many fleeting moments of beauty have I allowed to go unnoticed… to pass me by? How different would I be if I watched every single sunset? Or sunrise? If I gave myself permission. To just stop. And look.
To just stop. And be.
With every little precious glance I feel like I am coming back, like I’m breathing life into my own canvas again.
I look back up and it is dark.
The sun has gone.
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