Photography. Painting with light. That’s what the Greek words means. Sort of. That’s what I was taught about a billion years ago. That’s what most photographers say. But, literally, it means writing with light. By photographers I mean the kind who actually studied something about their art. Their craft. Not the ten minute kind.
Oh, let’s not go there today. This isn’t rant sort of day.
Big storms in town. Huge thunder and lightning. A big part of it came when I was asleep. I couldn’t tell if it was in my dreams or in real life. You know that state in which you sometimes get stuck.
But, here’s the weird thing. For the past two days I dreamt about a dog. A cocker spaniel. Probably my favorite dog of all. Hush. Don’t tell these five dogs who share the house with us.
In the first dream — yesterday — the spaniel and I were trying to get out some weird blown up place. Sort of like the pictures you see of the Middle East today. Like Aleppo. Or, some place like that. But, here’s the thing. She was about the size of a horse. And, she defended me. The size surprised me. But, not her defense. She always did that when she was on the planet.
In today’s dream, while the thunder was crashing and the lightning was illuminating the sky, I dreamt that we were in some big old place. A building. Maybe a huge house. With every crash of thunder something fell down, like a wall. Or, a door fame blew out. Or, the windows blew in. The spaniel was young. She looked like she did when she was like one or two years old. She’d lead and wait for me to follow. She’d pick her way through the debris and show me the path. She did that too, in real life.
I don’t know what dreams mean. There’s every kind of theory. I probably think that the Jungian theory is closest. Dreams are answers to questions that we haven’t even thought about yet. I don’t know. If that’s even right, what am I thinking about? That, I don’t know I’m thinking about?
Man. I miss that dog.
Oh. The pictures. I made them while I was looking for Mardi Gras Indians. On just about the same street where I took yesterday’s cemetery picture. That’s how it goes some days. Pictures just pop up out of nowhere. If you open your eyes. If you are just present. That’s a kind of magic.