some people, i know, are moved by melody. others by prose. more still, by taste, style or sense of place. of course any combination of these in the right dose and application hold meaning for me, but nothing touches my soul like the sun.
little patches of yellow on the floor in the morning can elevate my mood beyond any other antidepressant.
just the promise of a glimpse will send my heart racing.
when i consider the history of my happiness it's no wonder i've chosen photography as my life's work. truth is—photography has chosen me.
chasing light is like being after little bits of pleasure for my heart.
i remember being six or seven and sitting on the porch of my parents' summer home in the evening and feeling mesmerized by the way the dust was illuminated by the strands of light streaming through the screened porch. i can feel that porch now, it's gray-painted floor and creaky white wicker furniture, clear as if i sat there last night.
every door i walk through, the first thing i see is how the light enters the space. if i'm coming to visit you, don't waste your time cleaning up, just draw open the blinds. the corner of a room where sunlight gets caught fascinates me, and golden glowing edges of cheekbones or jars are the things of my dreams.
i know exactly where the sun falls on my sofa at every hour during every season and nothing makes me more melancholy than august evenings when the light begins to fade and i know what lies ahead.
only, in recent years, a keen awareness of my need to chase the light has made the shorter winter days more bearable and much to my own amazement, i've managed to eke out brightness even in the darkest of winter days. as a photographer, i consider it my job to use the daylight hours as they come. i work around the sun's schedule. i collect the light with my camera. it exists in my computer and in print for me to soak in and absorb during the darkness, and this is yet another reason why i am grateful for the ability to do what i do.