When I write, I pick a picture, post it, and let the picture tell me what I should write about. I wait for it to speak to me, to spark a memory or a feeling. And then I write. Sometimes I write exactly about the thought that entered my mind. Sometimes, what I start out writing is totally different than what exits my fingers as I type. Its oddly therapeutic and sometimes spooky. The writing is often a vent for feelings steaming right beneath my surface that I am not necessarily cognizant of.
Of late, I am converting many of my photos to black and white. Not sure why. I can tell you that the colors feel…uncomfortable. Too bright, too much. I need the simplicity? I need things to be in black and white? Things are, perhaps, too complicated in my life right now, having just enjoyed a short retreat from the hectic world of my work. Now, I’ve plunged back in, completely immersed in chaos.
No, I definitely like the simplicity.
“Ethel Merman”, a famed singer for you younger types, was the first image in my mind when searching my little brain for a title. Ethel would belt out a tune like no other. She has long passed, but I can still hear her voice from many a musical, reverberating in my head. The form and shape of the iris reminded me, I suppose, of an open mouth, waiting to belt something out. Shouting, perhaps, into the black and white abyss to its left.
Welcome to my therapy session.
Please stay tuned…