Late last night, while I was finishing off a paper, I noticed it had started raining. The first actual rain of the season - not hail, not snow, not freezing rain - but real, actual soft, make the air smell of earth, kind of rain.
I sat on the front step just listening and watching and basking in it for a few minutes before I picked up my camera and started playing around...before I knew it, I was in the median of 50th street with my tripod taking photos of traffic and lights flying past me on both sides. While I stood there, waiting for the shutter or the perfect moment of light and movement, I was thinking about poetry; about the way it pulls at language, doing something irreverent and new with something so stiff and structured. Sometimes it really surprises me how much I love poetry. I always considered myself someone who could understand and appreciate poetry, but was definitely a prose girl, but lately, I've been starting to admit to myself that maybe I am more into poetry than I'm aware. And then the shutter goes, or the light turns green and I set it up again, shooting more to the left or from lower down...and standing there in the first rain of the season, in the middle of the night, I thought to myself, THIS is what I love. THIS is what I want to do. THIS is what lets me be me.
So, anyone wanting to pay me to sit in the rain and take photos and think about poetry, give me a call...I'll be needing a patron.
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2 comments:
umm... i can't afford to pay you, but can i join you? at least in the watching the rain and reflecting part? i'm not much of a photographer...
I think you should come down to BC on a photography trip..i'm sure there be some amazing results...no need to go to the muttart - its all free here!haha & then you could stay with me:)
-hs
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