When, as now, there is a thin layer of snow on the ground, bits and pieces of ground cover rise above it, creating patterns, spare and refined, dark against light. I found myself fascinated by the range of expression of tiny elements as I looked down during my walk. Individual blades of grass become like dancers flowing across a lit stage, bending softly in different directions.
A single stalk of weed bows in a line that curves and then doubles back, topped by a little seed head, animating a patch of textured white.
I love the mystery of this image; a simple curled leaf, partially buried, becomes a heart of mystery.
There are many conversations and interesting relations on the snow's surface, here a teeny warm-colored seed and twig seem to be yearning toward each other.
The dried leafy weed arches energetically in counterpoint to the three pine needles straight and tall.
Lastly, another single stem, so different in character from the graceful one above, its little spikes spreading out in whorls from the main stem, a dark jagged line contrasting with sparkle.
As I photographed, I felt as though I could find hundreds of these minimalist images, each one exploring a different kind of line, of proportion, of tension, of composition. I enjoyed looking closely at things hardly at all there, bringing a quality of attention to them that makes them grand even in their modesty.
very poetic. these photos remind me of your ruglets - the texture snow background, the drama between minimal forms. winter in your own language.
ReplyDeletethanks so much for this comment, rappel, as I'm glad to know a reader makes connections between different aspects of my work. My hooked wool sketches are even closer to these photos, I now see, thanks to you.
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