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A corn bin

A corn bin

It’s me.  I’m the one.  From a very young age, I was often the first kid to say…”But, why?”

As a child, this short but oft-repeated question wasn’t always a hit with the grown ups.  It didn’t stop me from asking, sometimes even when I knew the answer would be met with resistance and threats of an early bedtime.  As an adult, I more or less built a large part of my career with this question, urging emotionally troubled patients to ask this of themselves as often as possible.

Why?  Why do I do this…or that?  What motivates me?  What fuels my desires and behaviors? 

Reflecting on this further, having read some other photographers thoughts on photographing repeated themes, I once again find myself in the middle of that same question.  But why?  Why am I drawn, especially of late, to photographing as many barns and rural landscapes as I can possibly fit on a 4 gig card?  What is the blessed attraction?

Corn bins are a favorite.  Barns, large equipment, and (most especially), cows.  Cows have been a favorite for years.  I have stuffed cows that moo and walk, photos of cows, and a cow that jumps over the moon, which I used to hang in my play therapy office (for me, not the children—it flapped a set of wings when you pulled on the moon.  Way cool.)

I have some suspicions, some self-analytical revelations of sorts.  Photography, writing, art–all good modes of reflecting the self and what lies underneath. 

Peeking is a good thing…underneath, that is.  Sometimes, it will feel like scraping a sliver out from beneath a fingernail.

Once in a while, you’ll strike a vein of gold.  But only if you’re willing to scrape just a little further underneath.