The flower was huge! A big bold, dynamic amazing kind of flower. But that's not what had grabbed my attention. What I saw was a crack. A separation in the big, bold, dynamic, amazing kind of flower. Browned edges, a shape, a broken edge, a crack. How many times have we yearned for everything but the crack? How have we sought and gone after everything but the crack? How often have we measured life by everything but the crack? I wasn't taking an image of anything but the crack. It was the crack I was photographing, not everything else. What is within your own story that is a crack? I would wish for so much some days. That my heart wouldn't hurt, that what brings sadness could go away, that life would be simpler, less noisy, warmer, brighter, clearer . . . . . I have many cracks much of the time. I wasn't photographing everything, it was the crack. |
Are the beings that we are, really about the cracks that bring interesting edges, colour tones, shape . . . .
It was the crack I photographed.