I love photography. I had always wanted a fancy-schmansy camera and a few years ago the hubbs got me one as a gift. I’ve had so much fun playing with it, learning about light and shutter speed and f stops and a whole host of other things I still don’t understand. And there’s a lot I’m still lost on. But I love to play with it.
And sometimes I get frustrated with it too. Or more accurately sometimes I get frustrated with my lack of knowledge. Often I’ll see something so beautiful and I want to capture it on film, but a setting will be off and what I end up with is a blurry light-altered representation of what I really see. And that makes me mad.
Because I want you to see what I see. I want to show you my mountains. How on a cloudy day they are this deep shade of blue that is almost the color of midnight and the grey clouds and fall trees are such a contrast that it leaves me speechless. I want to show you the river as I see it:fast and foaming and carrying life and danger.
So I look through the tiny window into this other world and I hold my breath as I push the button, and I hope that it comes out right.
These last few weeks it seems like we are looking through blurry lenses. Our shutters are off and instead of letting in light we open the blids to a shudder-worthy scene. Our ideas and beliefs are thrown out for the world to see, brandishing our scars in a harsh light. Words that should be clear and open are blurred and dangerous, the light trapped behind misconcieved notions and preconceived ideas.
We’ve lashed out in words and actions and lines have been drawn in fire and police lines. Truth is lost somewhere between fear and protests and platforms while our nation struggles to catch its breath under the weight of a thousand broken hearts and ravaged dreams. We search for peace and honesty and acceptance but we are found lacking through the filter of others.
And I just want to see your mountains and I want to show you mine. Pull out the negatives and press flat the film of a history we’re still making. I want you to see the way the light catches on the leaves and in my heart and I want to see the glory of our contrasts.
I want to show you how they look so far away but are so strong and looming and yet accenaccentuate the rivers and ponds and the tender trees. I want you to see that we are so far apart, but the beauty in you creates the beauty in me, if we only allow ourselves to change our filter.
I want to show you my mountains. Will you come and see?