To swim across the coral alive with crimson, spiked creatures and glare into the natural hidden paradise beneath the glassy surface. This is beauty in its purest form.
“The more clearly we can focus our attention on the wonders and realities of the universe about us, the less taste we shall have for destruction.” ~Rachel Carson
An ever-fixed beauty that embodies his height, mark and worth.
He encouraged my wandering in the countryside, wading in the “crick”, catching minnows, sliding down hills, picking wild flowers. He sang songs to me that you don’t hear anymore.
In Tunisia I was charmed by the Hand of Fatimah doorknockers common to the region. As I photographed the talismans, I learned they ward off the Evil Eye.
Without our star, how would we inhabit bodies of rich sensory perception with which to perceive, even partially, the faint and intermittent signals lumped together under the term “beauty”? From the darkness of our ordinary, often dreary and difficult lives, these signals—if we pause long enough from “information—can become art. These glimpses into the organic whole may even glimmer.
Life took me to Phoenix, where I still, after forty years here, recognize sunlight as the first ingredient of beauty. The spare beauty of the desert continues to bind me to the area, and it also highlights the fragility of so much we regard as being beautiful.
Any photo taken may produce at least one version of itself that is worth retaining; often it contains more than one version by cropping the original.