The Riverwalk Fishing Pier is in Bradenton not far from my home. I love coming here early in the morning when everything is quiet and the water is still. The way the weather works, as soon as the sun rises it generates a breeze which ripples the water, so the only way to see it glassy like this is before dawn.
The river flows into the Gulf of Mexico so it rises and falls with the tide. At high tide the pilings are mostly submerged. I’ve heard that decades ago there was a hurricane in the gulf and the water drained from the river before the onslaught of the storm surge. It was said you could walk across the riverbed. I’ve only lived here about ten years and not seen anything close to that, hopefully I never will.
I walk my dog here, he is a rescue. For some reason he is afraid of any walkway above the water and so piers are difficult for him. I’ve worked with him over the years to overcome that fear and now he’ll walk out to the end with me. I don’t rush him and I give him plenty of positive reinforcement. Whenever I see this pier it reminds me of how much progress he’s made. Life’s little pleasures.
This is a composite of the inside of two cathedrals in Barcelona. One is the gothic Cathedral of Barcelona and the other is the post gothic Sagrada Família which was designed by Antoni Gaudi. The two edifices could not be more different. The only thing they have in common is they are Roman Catholic. The architecture of the gothic is filled with repeating lines and arches and domes whereas Gaudi has created a masterwork of modern art and design that is both organic and audacious.
Big heavy words alert!!! 🙂
In both photos I was standing in the middle of the cathedral looking straight up. I since wondered what would happen if the two were merged, and this is one possible result. A clash of ideas, a combination of opposing forces.
To me this might highlight the idea of the duality and its fusion back into singularity. Simply put, duality is two halves of a whole. We see it in every aspect of life around us. But what happens if we merge back to a singular state rather than opposing perspectives. This quickly gets metaphysical and takes us into uncharted waters, but you get my drift. Its just a crazy idea I’ve had from time to time.
In effect, this image is an abstract thought exercise that imagines the re-combining of two ideas into one. Or, if you prefer, this is how I doodle and daydream.
This weekend I was in Fort Lauderdale where I captured this ship entering the Port of the Everglades. This was just one of a half dozen or so I watched from the beach in the predawn hours. My hotel faced the Atlantic so that I could see the ships all lined up single file as they waited to enter the port. The preceding evening it was the reverse with the ships streaming out in the opposite direction.
I walked down to the very end of the beach along the jetty at the entry to the port. Standing there the ships pass so close I could probably hit them with a beach ball. It’s a strange feeling standing there as a tremendous amount of mass passes only meters away. It overloads my simple mind. I’ll bet the people in those apartment buildings have quite the show each day.
The orange light coming over the apartment buildings is the light from the port bouncing off of the clouds we had Sunday morning. The whole scene was surreal and totally unexpected. I love little surprises like that, especially when I’m out with my camera. It’s been said that photography is fifty percent just getting out and putting yourself in a place where something might happen. Sometimes it works out and of course I get really excited when it does, kind of like hitting a great golf shot. This image for me is a three hundred yard tee-shot straight down the middle of the fairway. I better stop now before I start mixing my metaphors.
This is the Vancouver cityscape as seen from Cypress Point. Its probably one of the best locations to get a panoramic view of the city at night, a must see if you are there. I was thinking about Vancouver because I’ll be heading back there soon and was wondering what has changed since I was last there. Last time there was a lot of construction underway and the joke was that the local bird is the crane.
I find that even when I’m away from home for a week or two, I always see little differences when I return. It might be something simple like a new store at the mall or a section of re-paved road, but something new that makes an impression on me because it wasn’t there when I left. When we see same things everyday, we don’t always notice the changes. I ignore a lot because it seems so commonplace, kind of like watching a clock move, we don’t really notice the hands moving but come back in an hour or so and they’re in a different place. So it is with my small town of Palmetto.
Now multiply that by a thousand times and that would be Vancouver. I’m curious to see what new buildings have been constructed, what might have changed at the airport, and maybe even what new shops are at the mall. I’m sure if I ask a Vancouverite they’d say not much has changed and I’d get a chuckle out of that. Having said all that, some things will never change; the beauty of Lions Gate Bridge (pictured here), Stanley Park and the amazing mountain peaks that surround the city.
Out from the dark and into the light. This image could be a metaphor for all kinds of things. It’s a new year and so maybe this is a metaphor for new beginnings, or perhaps nothing at all. Meaning is in the eyes and mind of the beholder, so whatever this makes you think of is cool.
In one respect images are like a Rorschach Test. We each look at the ink blot and see something different, something constructed from our inner world of associations, thoughts and emotions. I just happened to snap this while standing under the bridge, it’s just a picture. But now that I look at it, it reminds me of other things completely. For you the thoughts invoked are surely different.
These are my favorite kinds of images, those that bridge the gap between mundane and metaphor. I think having a person in an image allows me to project myself into the scene, either as the observer or the observed. It’s a matter of perspective. I project myself as the person with the bike which is kind of funny because in real life I was the observer with the camera. In a manner of speaking, I switched roles between the time I took this and the time I viewed it. Maybe this is a lot of gibberish about nothing, or maybe there’s an insight. I suppose that depends on what we choose to take out of it. For me perhaps it’s a metaphor for going into the light.