The Dying of the Light... (or How a Afternoon fades away)
Everyone has an artistic weakness. Everyone. I am one of those people who are fascinated by the evenings and the end of each one of them in the sunset or twilight. I'm not going to lie to you, it's also one of the hours that suits me best. Between 16:00 and 18:00, the sun is not golden but sand-coloured. Sometimes, with orange tones, but as always, although the ends of each day are usually perceived (as all similar or the same) and that is a lie as big as a house... The Dying of the Light... A phrase that goes well to describe a tour of the Sun from my perspective, and under my personal gaze.
Are we aware that every day is literally a gift? I think so, but I don't know if we can afford so much poetry. Collectively, there are too many problems and worries that most of us have on our backs to be able to ‘stop the ball’ and look to the horizon, to the sky, to our mother star? I also confess that my photographs are pieces of afternoons that no longer exist. Between August and the beginning of November, I documented a little of the time between the bus stop, at sunset, and the arrival home.
At times, overcome with fatigue after a mentally and physically exhausting day, I have been able to capture the sunlight through the last hours of a day. Here's a confession, in more than one of those photographs, there was no electricity for reasons I won't explain; and the wind chill was sky-high.... In others, the best thing that had happened during the week had been the three seconds of admiration and contemplation between looking at what I wanted to photograph and actually doing it. Yes, I know, this is starting to read too sad, but I like to be honest with you. I think that's what makes blogging different from any other format.
We all, without exception, have had shitty days (sorry, I don't mean to be rude but I do want to make my point). Days where there are few things that really provoke something positive in us. That's why the power of appreciation is so personal and subjective. That's where our ability to make and understand art comes from. I can bet, with the utmost certainty, that for many people what you see in this post is not worthy of admiration but for me it is more than just pictures of the end of an afternoon; it is the journey of terrible days and the only pattern of beauty from those grim moments...
Think about it carefully... From the best photograph, technically and aesthetically, to one made in an amateur way, there is something in it. Only one thing that unites the difference: the subjectivity of beauty... In my post, in this confession, it is only the most beautiful of the ugly. My everyday life is not always indifferent to me, I am someone who does not tolerate mediocrity and that affects me a lot in several aspects... But back to the post; I digress, I'm sorry... Dylan Thomas is a British poet, ‘a fatalist’, but an inspiration for many people... If not, ask Christopher Nola, who knows something about photography, and about Thomas... The Dying of the Light, my subjective and humble presentation (captured with a mobile phone, not a camera) of my worst days in my everyday life.
A very "street" shot @chris-chris92!
Like a lot!!!...
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