It’s The Little Things

PollockEven when I’m at the MET to wander aimlessly, I have a small handful of stops that I always make. This Pollock is one of them, for a very small part of the piece. The first time I noticed it years ago, I was sitting on the bench in front of the painting, letting myself stare at and be hypnotized by the controlled chaos of the large canvas. I was admiring how much depth could be felt by the use of only five colors (including the canvas color) when suddenly my gaze drifted across it. I rubbed by eyes thinking that maybe I’d been staring for so long that my eyes were playing tricks on me. But when I got up and walked closer, there it was! A hidden sixth color about the size of the tip of a pinky finger: a single red drip. A hidden gem. I gasped/laughed out loud and couldn’t control the smile on my face, feeling like in some funny way Pollock was smiling back at me through that little dot. Whenever I’m there, I stop to see the red drip. It still makes me smile.
PollockCr

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The Twins

_DSC0073One of these two would grow up to be the shadowy archer in yesterday’s photo.

Presence Through Absence

DianaAs a kid, I used to love to shoot arrows from my bow at a target in our back yard (never shot any animals, loved them too much). Perhaps that’s why I’m drawn to Diana when I see her sculptures. Maybe I see a bit of my young self in her shadow.

Happy Birthday, Rodin!

Eternal SpringToday is Auguste Rodin’s 173rd birthday. As a child, I remember flipping through books of Rodin sculptures and gazing with awe at images of stone and bronze that looked like the softest skin I’d ever seen. I loved going to museums with Rodin sculptures and standing as close to them as I could. I would listen for the sounds of the sculptures breathing. I imagined that each figure had a soul beneath the hard surface and that when the museum emptied at night, they would all come to life. Or that when no one was looking, Cupid and Psyche would sneak kisses to each other. When I got older, I learned that Rodin felt as though many of his works, particularly his marble pieces, were already hidden inside each chunk of stone and that his purpose was to “uncover” or “find” them. This idea of an artist’s creation being an entity so separate/d from its creator stayed with me. Today, Rodin continues to influence me and my relationship with photography. As a photographer the world is like my chunk of rock, and I use the camera to pull things and people into focus that were hidden there all along. Rodin taught me about the relationship between the artist and the work/s they create. He taught me that when you lean in close to your work, you’ll hear a lot more than breathing.

Cupid Psyche

Reflection

Reflection
Temple of Dendur reflecting pool, Metropolitan Museum of Art.

Every New Yorker has a few places in the city where they go to think, to reflect, to ground themselves, to have a moment of meditation.

Self Portrait

My Many PiecesTaken with old point-and-shoot.

Is a person ever truly whole? Can you ever really see a person’s entire being in clear focus? Are we not all fractured pieces, often reflective pieces? Or maybe I just need a new mirror.