“The tree which moves some to tears of joy is in the eyes of others only a green thing that stands in the way. Some see nature all ridicule and deformity… and some scarcely see nature at all. But to the eyes of the man of imagination, nature is imagination itself.” ~William Blake
At age 2, I was scribbling on walls, on Dad’s books, writing or sketching on any blank paper. I started doodling, creating comic sketches conjured from an imaginative young mind. I would draw, color, paint. I lived a life of curiosity, reading books at night while my parents propped me up on a stack of pillows during asthma attacks.
Being sickly restricted my exploration of the world beyond my home and school. I wasn’t allowed to run, play, or mingle too much with neighbors and friends. So I sought refuge in my little colored world of art and poetry, jotting madly in hidden diaries, creating comic books for classmates to read the next morning. Pages were filled with kickass female characters I invented who conquered the world bravely…which I didn’t have the guts to do then. I created superheroes, half wishing I was in their shoes.
On discovering the internet in the 90s, I viewed and admired images –lots of beautiful photography. I thought, if I know how to paint images, why can’t I capture images too? Isn’t art and photography creative outputs of the human mind? I started learning, and at first got discouraged by difficult words like aperture, exposure, and f-stops.
So I figured I must learn to look at scenes the way I produce paintings —simplifying compositions, finding angles that please the eye, catching a surreal perspective, creating an impact to the senses.
I was self-taught. Beyond writing and art, I started telling stories through photography.
When I was young, I was filled with imagination. I daydreamed a lot. I knew I was going to be an artist, and a starving one at that. I once started a hand painted shirt business that failed only because I refused to mass produce my designs, even upon request. I needed to paint a different art on every shirt, not wanting to repeat a design, and the pressure took its toll on me. I stopped hand painting on fabrics since.
No one can take this kind of vision from me. This is how I view life. When my illness limited me, my imagination soared and released me. I tend to have an emotional attachment to my art. I see my world as one big, beautiful canvas. Look around you and try to see things differently.
This shot was taken one incredible morning when the sunrise was enhanced by a remarkable pattern of clouds. If by chance I may not have turned into a photographer, and I stood upon this spot, I will most likely paint the exact scene by memory somehow.
View more of my sunrise images in the Turtle Sanctuary here
Maayong buntag sa Texas. My asawa, a Cebuana, taught high school in Digos for 20 years.
As for your photograph, I appreciate its monotonality; don’t know if I’ve ever seen such a blue sunrise.
Thank you, Steve. Appreciate your dropping by. The blue came from the magic hour that’s right before dawn, so light was really very low. Managed to pull off with the help of a tripod. 🙂
Wow, i adore this photograph…..
Lucky you capturing and seeing this!
Thank you, Dedy, so nice of you to drop by and comment. I was indeed lucky to capture before this particular tree fell of old age. 🙂
Reblogged this on The Mind's Eye.