Obsessed with these "finger-painted" views of New York by Jorge Colombo. Don't you love how the lights just glow? I almost feel like I am taking an evening cab ride through the city.
Images via 20x200
As I gradually become better at taking photographs, I'm learning the subtle art of twisting the elements of cliche into something archetypal, the hackneyed into something original. At the same time, I'm honing the skills needed to control the process—manipulating depth of field, light, motion, framing, timing—until using the camera becomes almost instinctual. Sometimes, I start to believe that controlling the process is mastering the art.
But then something happens to remind me that control is always at the whim and mercy of larger forces. I look through the viewfinder one day and all the yellow taxis appear out of nowhere to line up in a tidy curve, and I shake my head and thank the muses and the gods of chaos and chance. One day the woman in the yellow dress steps into my frame to humble me and remind me that all I can do is accept the gift when it's offered.
I remember sitting in my history class, in shock and horror as I watched the images play over and over on TV. When the towers fell, my stomach dropped. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing, that someone could do something so horrible to innocent people. And I wondered what was next.
I remember crying for the people who died, for the people who survived, for the people who witnessed the tragedy first hand—those who rushed in and those who stood by in the smoke and debris, feeling utterly helpless. Having lost my brother just four months before, I knew exactly how it felt to lose someone you loved so suddenly and tragically.
I remember seeing the country pull together in the aftermath and being amazed by how much patriotism and kindness can grow out of such pain. I never saw so many flags in my life. They were on every car window and outside every home.
I remember today that freedom isn’t free. I am grateful for the men and women unselfishly serving in the U.S. military and risking their lives in Iraq and Afghanistan to protect those freedoms that we too often take for granted. Their sacrifice, and their families’ sacrifice, does not go unnoticed or unappreciated.
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Tonight, I attended the 4th annual Freedom Walk at the Ronald Reagan Presidential Library in Simi Valley. I was covering the event for the paper. It was so wonderful to see that, even after eight years, people do still care and they do remember. And that they continue to support the troops, no matter what they think of the war. It was also amazing to see that of the hundreds who came out to walk, many of those were kids who were just toddlers when 9/11 hit. In talking to them, I was happy to see that even though they did not understand the magnitude of the tragedy when it happened, they understand it now. Their parents and teachers have done a good job teaching them and because of it, they realize the significance of the day and that it is not something to be forgotten.
This outfit is summery and chic at the same time and looks so comfortable—now if only I could afford it! It seems the recession has not stopped Carrie one bit from looking oh-so-fabulous.
"Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart." ~ William Wordsworth