There is no reliable way to set your camera or tune your eye or frame the view when shooting clouds. I tend to underexpose. Everything you see is almost gone before you think to lift that little black device and encode its likeness. I shoot this sort of winter sky three or four times a year and the predictability of my own reaction is sometimes depressing, sometimes reassuring. Today it was depressing. But that's depression, isn't it? Taking lemonade and making a fucking rotten lemon out of it. Blue becomes grey. Cycles become repetition. A perfectly beautiful sky shits on your head with the pointlessness of it all, when pointlessness is our only birthright, our only meaningful privilege, the source of all grace and liberty and absolution, those most merciful of all alleged divine conferments. Sometimes that reassures me. |
Comments are closed.
|
Independent Creativity
|