London, ON, July 2011
About this photo: I found these garbage cans in the park near my office and immediately thought they'd serve nicely to wrap up this week's metallica theme (click here for a last-minute addition. Or pop back tonight at 7:00 Eastern when we launch our next theme, bricks and mortar.)After dragging my camera around for years on end and looking for new ways to look at the world, I've learned a number of truths about photography. One of them is this: Not every photo is heroic. They aren't all epic scenes destined for the front page. You're not always going to capture the penultimate moment - the goal, the shot heard round the world, the elusive something that couldn't be recreated even if you tried.
Some photos are simply quiet reflections of the world around us, humble slices of life that so often go unnoticed because we're too busy with too much other stuff. They don't claim to be anything more, and they don't beg for any kind of spotlight. They just are. And when you slow things down just a bit - sort of like getting off the highway and taking the back roads for a little while - you see things that might have otherwise been a blur in the rear-view mirror.
Sure, you get there a little later. But you have so much more to take with you from the journey.
Your turn: What is it about simplicity that appeals to you? How do you define "simplicity" in the first place?
lack of clutter.....
I agree w/ mmp... Simplicity also means not flowery...I had a teacher who told us not to use 'flowery' words... To write straight to the point w/out using fancy, overdone words... because it clouds and confuses the reader...Less is more as they say...
Promote the KISS principle and you can't go wrong.
When I first saw the title I immediately thought of my almost 2 year old son who used to be obsessed with trash. It was supposed to be a simple outing to the park that he turned into a clean up day. For me, part of simplicity can also be enjoying the moment that your children are in, whatever it may be. Once we had a great end to a not-so-simple day at Disneyland because we stopped on the way out to listen to the firehouse band. It wasn't on the agenda, we were tired and hungry, but the kids wanted to sit on the curb and see the dalmation dog play the piano.
I guess what I'm saying is that sometimes abandoning the plan and embracing the moment is the simplest thing to do. Some people worry about what they will miss out on, but I would be missing out on more if I didn't stop and enjoy it.
Post a Comment