Click the image below for 25 images of IlluminAsia at the Smithsonian’s Freer and Sackler Galleries.
I love fire. Not so much for its consumptive or destructive nature (although that deserves fascination and respect), but more for its fluidity, its continuous reinvention of itself, its ever changing color and its ability to synthesize seemingly disparate qualities. It is formless form. And watching it — even while your brain screams “danger” — the flickering dance of its flames seduces you and draws you into it’s trance.
I love projection art. The motion of color being painted onto huge canvases of concrete and brick — all in real time and all in front of your eyes. It too is formless form. And despite knowing that is is merely projected phantoms, you are nevertheless drawn toward the light. Continue reading
Over the holidays, I am working on developing a repeatable process for capturing (in camera) and developing (post-process) images for a series I am calling Photoabstraction. These images are not quite where I want them, and the process is still far from “repeatable”. But, I am having great fun during the search, and thought I’d share a few of the “rejects.”
>> click any image to enlarge <<
Saturday was Art All Night DC—my fifth AAN and my third year as coordinator of photography. Look for new blog posts about Art All Night coming in the next several days.
Rain drops, car lights, a window pane (with a little dirt) and the processes of refraction and reflection combine to form a series of kaleidoscopic images. Click any pic to view the full set of 10 images.
I saw her for just three minutes. I turned to get a glance at the origin of the ooos, applause and laughter of a small group that had gathered at the side of the road. I had no intention of going there, and was definitely not planning to photograph such a small side show. But those plans changed when I saw children giggling excitedly with mouths agape, and parents who could not hide the joy that their smiles, as broad as those of their kids, revealed to anyone watching. I was drawn to it—kissed by a small dose of magic sent in a fantastical bubble that she blew my way. I saw her for just three minutes, but it was three minutes of all encompassing delight. Three minutes during which the the hard realities of pavement and brick gave way to an etherial fantasy of golden light refracted and reflected off transparent floating orbs of hope and joy. And though it proved to be as fleeting as the fairy that conjured it, it was three minutes of pure enchantment. Continue reading