Tuesday, January 6, 2009
The horizon of a new year always holds so much promise.
Just by its very being, another chapter begins, and whether the time spent moving forward meets a fresh horizon or merely visits a known corner, every thing seems different, and even unseemly original.
Many of the people I know could not wait for 2008 to be over. The twists and turns of our cultural lives seemed to be almost too much to handle. Numerous days, even months, in my own year were lived as a chain of hapless events each trumping the other in distraction and distress.
I realized even as I was walking in my world, my eyes, more times than not, were cast down. They saw, on some miserable days, only the movement of one foot going in front of the other. Slow progress this, for one used to running into the promised land.
So this year, I’ve decided to simply raise my head. Chin up. Stiff upper lip, all that. If things weren’t looking up around me, so what. There was plenty I seemed to be missing by merely taking measure of my feet.
On New Year’s day, I was assigned to take pictures of a group of bicyclists who were riding early in the morning to celebrate really nothing more than sheer optimism. It was a very glacial daybreak; why would so many would leave the warmth of their bed and home and go to the cold cold edge like this.
But even as Lake Michigan was arctic, crackling, it beckoned with a beauty that could not be seen any other way than to be merely present.
Here were some of the colors that most fascinated me anywhere at all. Glimmering lightest seafoam, translucent pale aqua, and rounding and uniting, the colors of stone wearing moss and earth in an ingenious mantle of color.
It was several moments at this icy edge before I noticed that my gloves were off. My fingers were painfully telling just how frigid it was where I was standing. Cool. I was so outside myself, in beauty and peace, that it was even more of a grace to simply feel the warmth of my fleecy fingers when I went back into gloves and about my way.
So I’ve decided to chase the Muse.
To simply find in my life, and record the small (and not so small) visual cues that surround me. Things that are outside myself to rescue what’s inside myself and lift it up. Join me and show me what you find.