Late one afternoon…some months ago, now, the light of the setting sun filtered through a piece of stained glass hanging in my living room window. The fragment of light landed on the wall, just as you see it in the first image, above.
Incredible, I thought, grabbing my camera. It so peaked my imagination. A heart, perhaps, fleeting across a sky…to leap through a window of light to another world? OR, maybe, this tender heart was tossed through the window (reading it left to right) – a message sent! Or, then again, perhaps, like a baby bird, nudged out of the nest, this heart was set free to fly unbounded on its own.
It’s all imagination. Light sparking possibilities.
Others would see something very different, I’m sure. Each of us drawn to the image, or not. Seeing something beautiful and imaginative, or not. It’s true. Each of us are drawn to different things. And, if photographing the same thing, we each would see with a different eye, through our own unique context, producing something completely individual.
As the sun was setting that winter afternoon, the reflections on the wall were fleeting. Moving and shifting as quickly as the sun moved down behind the houses on the street, towards the horizon.
The second shot was taken only moments after the first. The window frame of light had drifted away, leaving only the solitary shape on the wall, hallowed (crowned?) by a different colour and held within its own splash of light.
And, so it was. Seconds passed as I photographed this beam of light traversing my living room wall. My very own private sunset! So amazing, at least, I thought so!
And, then, months went by. And, months. I hadn’t looked at these shots in over a year. And, just recently, for some reason, they came back to my attention, tossed into the foreground. And, the images, again, captured my imagination.
Enter, the third shot in the trilogy. A fleeting heart – in a sea of green? Or, a sliver of sun? A beam of light? I’m not sure what you see. Me, I saw the heart…in flight.
Truth be told, I have several other in this series. Blue (I just had to share it here), purple and red. Some muted. Some bold. It grabbed me, this piece of light. This fragment. Caught on my wall. No one else to see it. And, for some reason, I just had to capture it, replay it, re-create it in many forms. A fleeting moment, captured. A gift of light.
The car was packed with groceries.
I was pushed for time.
And, for some reason, I paused.
Took a breath.
And, before I put the keys in the ignition, I looked up.
And, there, the gentlest of skies.
Soft yellows and blues, and feathery clouds of violet grey.
The end-of-day light painted on the sky.
And, that sight, that pause, that breath, they reminded me…
I can be in a hurry and anxious and worried, or I can pause and breathe and be surprised by beauty.
November can be full of grey.
Maybe because the month comes on the heels of exuberant October, it seems even more grey than other grey months. (I’m thinking February now – a Toronto February is very, very grey!)
It was a day of November greys. Both in colour and mood. There was a shot of sunshine first thing in the morning. A disk of muted yellow rose above the horizon, but it didn’t last long. The grey gauze sky tucked it away.
When the sun can’t be the guide, it’s the light of the leaves that carries me along.
Yellow leaves and the lingering autumn greens lit the way.
Well, not really.
Perfect, that is.
Look closely, and it’s out of focus. No sharpness. No definition.
But, it doesn’t matter.
At least, not to me.
For some reason, I still think it’s perfect.
The way the sun splashes across the lush green ivy and lays across the bench.
The coolness of the shadows.
It’s a place to rest – for the body, the soul, and the eye.
That’s why I like it, I think.
It’s the invitation of it. The ease of it.
Gracious. Green. Space.
To me, at least, a picture-perfect scene, a picture-perfect moment, captured as I make the drive home following a pretty picture-perfect kind of day.
I announced my departure from work the day before. The end to a 31-year career working for a place I love – the CBC. It’s hard to leave. The place, the people, the work we do, the audiences we serve. But, it’s time to go, and give wings to other parts of life.
Now, I don’t actually leave for another month. But, the day this photograph was taken, in effect, was the first day of the rest of my life.
And, it was kind of…well, picture perfect.
The light of the sun – streaming onto this near century-old building, this commuter hub in Toronto – Union Station. It was the sun light that caught my eye. And, there’s the other light – that gorgeous lantern, to anchor the eye on the spacious canvas created by the wall. And, all of it balanced by the arch of the door, the golden-coloured relief around the door, and the reflection and sparkle of the glass. Balance, again, showing itself.
This is another in the ‘Drive-by” photography series. Photographs taken while sitting in traffic, waiting for the ‘light’ to change!
Layers of steel and glass.
Layers of experience, within the walls.
Inside the offices and conference rooms, kitchenettes and corridors
Layers of life behind the gorgeous glass walls of this skyscraping tower in Toronto.
Linking with the Creative Exchange.
I took the leap….
Okay, I may only be testing the waters at this stage.
I have a lot to learn.
But, so far so good!
I started by playing with these beautiful images…
from my ‘rainy day’ file –
A gorgeous tree reflected in a pool.
Playing with the light, the colour and the sharpness of the image..
Pure joy, creating this tapestry of texture and colour!
Now, here, for reference, and for fun…are the originals…
What a wonderful process – I love this!