It’s a grey day. The kind that has been created for reading books and writing letters. The kind that slips by unnoticed and quietly just to make room for another one of the same kind. When the day is grey like this one, it makes all the minutes of the day equal. No rivalry for the most glorious second, no handing out prizes for the memorable moments. Every second counts in this grey scale dimension where time is a matt that stretches into horizons trying out for its limits. These grey days, they seem so indifferent of the way in which all other kinds of days envy them for their never-ending quality. Quantity over quality until the day comes when tables will be turned.
I was told by an artist friend that she sees my interest in the quality of light and the structures of things in my photos. I told her that it made me happy to hear her say that. It seems that there are no two identical days as far as the quality of light is concerned. If you take exactly the same photo every single day at exactly the same time, they will all be different. Given that you shoot in natural light. Or maybe that varies in different parts of the globe. Around here it seems that the light is so different every day and when it changes it also changes the colors as well. I wonder if it feels different for those who can’t see. That it’s more cloudy today than yesterday, or the way in which light is different at sea.
When taking photos, light is your best friend and your lover. It sculptures the object and gives it meaning. It carves details out of the whole, highlighting just some parts of it for us to see, and so creates an indefinite play for us to witness. To be so lucky as to capture just one of the best moments in that spectacle is a joy, leaving one with the desire to be able to find one’s way to another glorious moment just like it, ruthlessly ignoring the rest of the world and everything that is left in the shadows. Just me and the light and this moment.
But today is a grey day. The kind created for dreaming. When the day is grey like this one, there is no rush and no drama. The world seems to be on hold, giving us all the excuse to not. To not run around chasing light, to not make use of the perfect day, too beautiful to be wasted. Today is a grey day. The kind that lets us rest and be reborn.