I saw this moon yesterday evening on U.S. 290, driving home to Austin from Fredericksburg in the Texas Hill Country. I say this moon, like there’s more than one moon (for our planet). But I’d never been in this moment, in this space, and I’d never seen this moon and these shades of blue and gray in the sky, like a new box of crayons waiting to be opened. I’d never seen these clouds. I was tired. I wanted to get home before dark. But I stopped, got out, and took a few pictures. And then I wanted to see this moon in black and white.
Thanks for the lift, Joel Meyerowitz!
This road is one we have walked on almost every day for the last few years. The land rolls and dips and changes color with the seasons and the light. Some days it has a piercing blue sky and on others it is rain soaked and leaden, or rain bowed and glorious, and it never fails to lift my spirits. I salute it by raising the camera in acknowledgement, and saying thank you.
Reflections of light, and of one’s self, from photographer Joel Meyerowitz …
I was walking through the living room when this slash of light caught my attention. It dissolved the wall in a way that made the mirror’s rectangle, and the space within it, part of the graphic energy of the place, with the doorways and windows behind. And there I was; looking into the image and suddenly a self portrait suggested itself.
I don’t make a lot of self portraits, or I haven’t for many years, and seeing myself there, on the first year of living in Europe, I sensed that it was time to record who I was at that moment, and perhaps make more of them now and then so that at this age, (75) I could watch myself in the process of aging, just to see how it all turns out.