Bounded in a nutshell

As I get older and nearing the end, or at least close enough to see it ahead of me, instead of quiet retirement, I feel a kind of frenzy to produce. To make stuff. And so, I keep writing for my blog, and the longer I’m doing it, the more complex each entry gets. But it isn’t only the writing, I also feel driven to see — to make images, to record what around me looks interesting, makes patterns, says something about my innards. It is pure compulsion and I don’t understand it myself.

All of which is to introduce a sequence of photographs I’ve made over the past two or three days. I spend at least a portion of most days sitting on the patio in the back yard, trying to soak up every impression I can. Bird calls, clouds, tree leaves shimmering, the distant sound of passing jets or trucks on the highway. I try to soak it all in. I try to be present, to be aware of the world.

I don’t usually try to record the things I see and hear, but just to notice, to pay attention. But a couple of days ago, I brought my camera out to the patio with me, and began recording things I found interesting, including such dull stuff as pattens in the patio concrete, leaves, gathering storm clouds. I winnowed them down to a group that I thought made sense in a sequence, as if they were frames in a story. I may rearrange them yet again, but here is the set as it stands now.

I do these things just for myself, but having done it, it seems to want to find an audience, and so, I’m offering it up. I don’t think these are worth a whole lot. Some are interesting enough as single shots, but really, it is just the playing out of my need to make stuff. Make make make.

BOUNDED IN A NUTSHELL