Ansel Adams once wrote: "The negative is comparable to the composer's score and the print to its performance." Change that assertion to digital language instead of film, and the point is the same, as these two images demonstrate.
It is rainy today and I always find the sound of rain (and the sight and smell of it too) pleasurable. Even more so when the days seem so much the same.
Another week begins; safer at home, the days blend together into a long stream of days, in many ways almost interchangeable with each other. Today, a beautiful clear sunrise as a mark of its particular uniqueness.
Meanwhile, here is Robinson Jeffers:
"The extraordinary patience of things . . .
This beautiful place . . .
It has all time. It knows the people are a tide
That swells and in time will ebb, and all
Their works dissolve. Meanwhile the image of the pristine beauty
Lives in the very grain of the granite,
Safe as the endless oceans that climbs [the] cliff.—As for us:
We must uncenter our minds from ourselves;
We must unhumanize our views a little, and become
As the rock and ocean that we were made from."
"If God exists he isn't just butter and good
He's also the tick that killed my wonderful dog . . .
If God exists he isn't just churches and math-
He's the forest, He's the desert.
He's the ice caps, that are dying.
He's the ghetto and the Museum of Fine Arts.
He's van Gogh and Allen Ginsberg and Robert
He's the many desperate hands, cleaning and
He's every one of us, potentially.
The leaf of grass, the genius, the politician,
And if this true, isn't it something very
"I was sitting in the river Clarion, on a
water splashed stone . . .
Whenever the water struck the stone it had
something to say,
and the water itself, and even the mosses
under the water.
And slowly, very slowly, it became clear to me
what they were saying.
Said the river: I am part of holiness.
And I too, said the stone. And I too, whispered
the moss beneath the water."
Social distancing continues, and from what I've heard and read will continue for a long time yet. Being introverted, that isn't too hard for me, but not being able to travel around, not even across the street to the bay, is more difficult. I started a project last week, but it simply fell apart from a lack of direction, and that in turn was in part due to restlessness and boredom. I wonder how many of us are feeling that. Maybe I should work harder on maintaining social contacts . . .
Jenny Lake, Cascade Canyon, Grand Tetons
"To feel and speak the astonishing beauty of things—earth, stone and water . . .
And unhuman nature its towering reality . . .
And water and sky are constant—to feel,
Greatly, and understand greatly, and express greatly,
Beauty, is the sole business of poetry."
Not sure about the "sole" business, but I think an important part of the business of photography is to do this too.
Another month (at least) to go of staying in (except to walk). I suppose it's a sort of (forced) retreat. Yesterday lots of clouds but no rain; March had 0.1 of an inch. Cool mornings, warm to hot afternoons. Stay well everyone.
It was early,
which has always been my hour
to begin looking
at the world
and of course,
even in the darkness,
listening into it . . .
Sometimes I need
only to stand
wherever I am
to be blessed.