“He put on a little knapsack and he walked through Indiana and Kentucky and North Carolina and Georgia clear to Florida. He walked among farmers and mountain people, among swamp people and fishermen. And everywhere people asked him why he was walking through the country.
Because he loved true things he tried to explain. He said he was nervous and besides he wanted to see the country, smell the ground and look at grass and birds and trees, to savor the country, and there was no other way to do it save on foot.”
― John Steinbeck, Cannery Row
Today I took the Christmas tree down. This is usually one of the first signs than I’m ready to embrace a new year. I’m looking forward to what is to come.
“I hope that in this year to come, you make mistakes. Because if you are making mistakes, then you are making new things, trying new things, learning, living, pushing yourself, changing yourself, changing your world. You’re doing things you’ve never done before, and more importantly, you’re doing something.”
– Neil Gaiman
“The moon is brighter since the barn burned down.” – Chinese Proverb
Sometimes in my travels I come across barns. I travel a lot. I photograph wherever I am. My job has required me to get around locally and regionally as well and there are farms all over Western NY. I have friends that live all over the area too. Naturally, I see a lot of barns when I travel to visit them. As an artist, I’ve always been drawn to blue highways and photographing rural landscapes (like this one).
And sometimes I do come upon scenes like the ones below that make me stop and take a photograph of a barn, as so many people do.
“No one sees the barn,” he said finally.
A long silence followed. “Once you’ve seen the signs about the barn, it becomes impossible to see the barn.” He fell silent once more. People with cameras left the elevated side, replaced at once by others. “We’re not here to capture an image, we’re here to maintain one. Every photograph reinforces the aura. Can you feel it, Jack? An accumulation of nameless energies.” There was an extended silence. The man in the booth sold postcards and slides.
“Being here is a kind of spiritual surrender. We see only what the others see. The thousands who were in the past, those who will come in the future. We’ve agreed to be a part of a collective perception. This literally colors our vision. A religious experience in a way, like all tourism.”