Sunday, June 28, 2026

Fragmented Solitude - III




Dark clouds heavy, low, 
A lonely barn stands so still, 
Silence in the gray.

***

My experience with Facebook was short-lived; it lasted only two days.

I found myself surrounded by hundreds of excellent photographs, but instead of looking inward and asking, "What do I see?" my attention was pulled outward toward, "What are other people doing?"

After seeing a relentless stream of dramatic landscapes, high-contrast birds, and perfect, minimalist trees, I didn’t feel inspired. I was overwhelmed. 

Blogging feels entirely different from Facebook. It is quiet, reflective, and even poetic. I am never in a hurry when I look at other photographers' images or read their thoughts. Instead, I feel as though I am truly experiencing the world through their lens.

If I were 80 years old looking back at my photography, what would matter more—that thousands of strangers "liked" the photos, or that the images still feel unmistakably like mine?

There is a profound difference between studying an artist and consuming a feed on Facebook.

When I open Forms of Japan by Michael Kenna, I slow down. I spend time with a single photograph. I am entering his way of seeing. I feel a genuine relationship with his work—I live with his book, and I let it quietly influence how I see.

Losing my inspiration after just two days on Facebook showed me how easily we can be drowned out by too much noise. 

Generally, life is good.




Thursday, June 25, 2026

Fragmented Solitude - II




 
I never truly arrive in the vast countryside , never truly immerse myself in it.  I remain even there utterly isolated.





Wednesday, June 24, 2026

Fragmented Solitude - I.





Is it possible to simplify the forms and be completely content with empty space? And let this space be your imagination. Perhaps isolation isn’t the absence of connection, but the presence of it.  A look within oneself.



 



Tuesday, June 23, 2026

The Hunter


 

Spotted this morning at Pineview Reservoir! 

During nesting season, male ospreys do almost all the fishing for their families. They'll eat the fish head for a quick energy boost, then deliver the rest to the nest, where the female protects the chicks and handles the feeding.







This osprey circled over one spot, looking carefully down, but unfortunately didn't catch anything.