Almost There.
(2007–2013)
Where is that button
you can press
to stop loving someone?
And how could your heart
possibly recognise
a mechanical thing like a button?
How long does it take
for your brain and heart
to be in synchronisation again?
It took me a long time
to realize that you can’t
plan happiness.
The present lasts 3 seconds –
a blink for your rational mind,
an eternity for your heart.
— Julia Schiller
Geoffrey D. Lee / Review of my series:
Almost There.
Entire universes pivot on three principle things. Light, matter and consciousness. Matter is varied and proportionately sparse, there is far more space between bodies then there are instances of ordered matter. Consciousness is what we’re looking for when pondering the seamless intelligence behind the design of even the simplest things. Consciousness is the instrument that all living creatures are forever trying to attune. Art is a great moderator of this libel, but more often then not art’s influence is marginalized by the rote ritualization of social denominators that share nearly substandard commonalities.
Light however is to the cosmos as water is to humanity. Sometimes it seems to be a byproduct of energy, like clouds and steam, at other times energy itself. To us it’s a convenience taken for granted and a constant that has been the impetus for every spiritual notion throughout time. We have deified its presence and cast condemnation for its absence. The truth about light is that it is more invisible than it is radiant. For example, an X-ray is based on the relevance of light and its ability to permeate everything. Yet it occurs in stealth, tempts omniscience with feinted ignorance . Likewise distinctions of the colorific beauty that’s present everywhere are the result of some light staying behind to bring vitality into focus and other light moving on to give reality it’s depth, perception it’s variety.
Light like energy lives of its own rite. It breaths with a resonance that courses through subterranean magma, breeds throughout space in a billion-billion stars and dies gracefully with the dance of a single flame.
Great photographers hone this instinct, communing with consciousness to cast moments of insight. Pursuing ways of crafting light’s inexorable virtue for moments that capture a cacophony of life and radiate transcendental truth.
Almost There. by Julia Schiller investigates how many things a beautiful image doesn’t have to be. How many wonderful glimpses might go unnoticed simply because they were a part of something routine.