* * * *
Do I change like a river, widening and deepening, eddying back on myself sometimes, bursting my banks sometimes when there’s too much water, too much life in me, and sometimes dried up from lack of rain? Will the I that is me grow and widen and deepen? Or will I stagnate and become an arid riverbed? Will I allow people to dam me up and confine me to wall so that I flow only where they want? Will I allow them to turn me into a canal to use for they own purposes? Or will I make sure I flow freely, coursing my way through the land and ploughing a valley of my own?”
― Aidan Chambers, This is All: The Pillow Book of Cordelia Kenn
A few weeks ago I took myself on a photo trip to Explora, our awesome children’s science museum, to add an indoor twist on a series I am building about the new texture of play. This place practically vibrates with motion and energy, and I, without my children (shhh, don’t tell them!), allowed myself to just drift with my camera on the waves of the space and the noise. It was an intense visit – exhausting, really, with rolling waves of hundreds of children on field trips – a barely contained chaos – undulation large and small.
Out of deference for their teachers (“who is that lady with the big camera taking pictures of our students?!”) and my own timidness, I kept my lens trained on inanimate objects, finding some beautiful (and far more manageable) motion there too.
This week most surely conspired against its Weekly Photo Challenge, Early Bird. While I am often up early in the morning, doing so with the intention of taking photographs– without being away on vacation– was most certainly fraught with setbacks.
That said, I got some good shots in on Wednesday morning, from my home. It was nice to sneak outside, eyes sleepy and bare feet pressed against the cold concrete, with camera in hand (and tied around my neck, lol) while the coffee brewed. The morning air is always my favorite; cool and damp before the dry desert day sets in and the sun casts its long lines and draws the color out of everything. It’s unfortunately too early in the year for our most dramatic dawns and dusks, but the sky’s color gradient was beautifully tender and soft light made it easy to capture the garden’s colors and shapes.
Suspended and soft on my back in a large body of water, watching a summer thunderstorm roll in overhead, the sounds of kids playing as auditory bokah through the water, my body simultaneously moved by and distanced from the activity around me.
I can float there for hours, filling the space my body occupies and emptying my busy mind.
In response to The Daily Post’s weekly photo challenge: “Afloat.”