Sorry, no scandal here—not yet, anyway—merely the well-worn tailgate of a Studebaker pickup, found at a garden nursery where it enjoys a second life as Found Art.
For flat objects like this, orienting the camera to guarantee sharp details across-the-board is fairly straightforward… when you focus carefully. Most subjects aren’t flat, of course, and present different choices. This time of year, flowers are my favorites; their abstract, whimsical qualities invite selective focus, as these roses did yesterday evening.
You can’t depend on your eyes when your imagination is out of focus. —Mark Twain
The humming and buzzing of pollinators has fled from our garden, leaving the dry rustling notes of August behind. Bee balm was the last flower for the butterflies and bumble bees and hummingbirds, and now it’s letting its hair down, another cycle complete, the chaos of its form still inviting. From everyone who visited it, including this photographer, our kindest regards.
Silent gratitude isn’t very much to anyone. —Gertrude Stein
The nine Muses in Greek Mythology, the daughters of Zeus and Titan, were goddesses representing the arts—dance, music, and poetry—and also history, comedy, tragedy, and astronomy. Interestingly, there was no Muse for a visual art, for sculpture or painting.
Since those ancient times, muses began assuming human (mostly female) forms, and painters and photographers made up for any earlier absence of goddesses. An article in Flavorwire, The 10 Most Influential Artist’s Muses, describes several famous artist/muse combinations.
When I’m photographing, I’ve learned that a muse will remain invisible while asserting itself through seemingly disparate subjects, like the daylily and door shown here. And though I can’t explain this—it’s truly a feeling—I don’t doubt it for a second.
You should treat a muse like a fairy.