The chaos of the universe descended on us this week. Ok, that's a little overly dramatic. It's actually much worse. This is the week we closed up the studio in Beaverton, and began the move to our new digs on the property in Oregon City. Yes, its a bigger and better studio, and will be so lovely to work in, but for those of you who have ever moved from point A to point B in your life, the chaos reference will be well understood. I seek sympathy and, yes, a beer would be nice too.
A hectic life is, however, sometimes a good thing, though I have to convince myself that this is so. Deep breaths, meditation, and a retreat into my Feed of Interesting Articles had a positive and relaxing effect. Out of all the chaos a careful observer will find the lovely traces of orderly design, it appears, and I'm reassured by this. From galaxies to molecules -- and, one hopes, to all imperfect photographs -- the spirals, veins, patterns, and designs are all the same. We are all connected, we're all made of the same stuff; the stuff that came from stars which long ago gave up all hope, or tried too hard to show off to their friends. And I see those patterns everywhere I point a camera.
We create an appearance of order by categorizing the photographs we make, and sometimes categorizing ourselves, too, as photographers: landscapes, portraits, still-lifes, and so on. I'm not judging. Some of us have to make a living at this. But as I ascend into the chaotic orderliness of free and joyful photography, I'm finding it harder and harder to make those distinctions. I approach a portrait much as I do landscape, for instance: what I see before me is something beautiful and unique, and I'm moved by the same aesthetic. Give me a camera and a beautiful world, and I'll make sense out of it.
Just as long as I don't have to pack up and move again.