Snap. Snap, Snap, Snap.
Goes my mind.
I carry my camera with me each day I’m out; and my phone; but rarely do I have a chance to stop and photograph what I see. Try as I might, I’m not the kind of photographer who can make the picture in an instant, and get what I want. It’s a function of mind, and I’ve learnt that I have the capacity to intuitively recognise when the picture is there for me, but it takes some time for me to work through the “control” aspects of the mind, to reach the place where the subconscious, the picture, and I, meet. A 30 second screech to a halt in the tractor, grab the camera and the frame, and be satisfied is just not an option. So I’ve reverted to trying to make those frames in my head, to try and focus on what it was that really moved me in that moment, so that I can build that into the next opportunity I have to make a picture.
The grass is beautiful at the moment, and scythed flat by the mower, becomes a fascinating still life of texture and colour. These are the moments that keep me photographing. The ones we pass by – “it’s just grass, what could be interesting about that?” The ones that encourage other people to look at what I’m doing and say “why would you want to make pictures of that?” The grass is beautiful at the moment! I love to notice these things. And to hold them in my heart.
In some way you have to get past the conventional view, and the labels, to really see what is there. I knew in my heart what I’d seen, but the head kept making label connections… yorkshire fog, browntop, hawkbit. When really what I was seeing was purple, and faded greens, browns and the beautiful lines and shapes and texture. The beauty in the mundane. Thats my place.
Close to the ground.