Inside the Box
One of the the comforts and joys that the “hobby” of photography has offered me these many years is a means to move and see that is counter to the usual track and course of mind and eye. And for that instant of seeing the world through the lens, it is not “the whole of it” or the integrative world view I strive to take in with my limited sight and wisdom, but its opposite.
Sometimes the worth of a photographically-intense hour is this small-world real-time frame of mind for its own sake in which time passes in a slower, vaster metric–and I’m sheltered in the confines of that smaller box of the now from everything in the real-speed world that had been urgent, perplexing and vexing before I picked up the camera or started working images on the computer.
Sometimes, and recently in particular, it has been a kind of balm to be able to intentionally disengage, to indulge the mind and hands in the moment as a refuge from a world not so organized, not so beautiful, not so easily contained in a frame of context and meaning.
Sometimes the only words I can find are images.