Sense
of Place
The pinkish crystal grey blue haze of
early dawn crossing over the clear turquoise skies of the south of France; the
soft waters of the Clyde winding west below the Erskine bridge offering the
widest panoramas; the unbelievable array of colours in the Smokey Mountains
from rich reds to clearest vibrant oranges to deepest greens; crossing the
Staten Island ferry passed the statue of liberty, and thinking of those looking
for freedom and new beginnings;
the pure white sands of a nature reserve
off Florida’s west coastline with only the seagulls for company; walking the
south bank and the bridges over to St Pauls and I feel all the footsteps and
the sense of history here; the bold drama of white capped peaks above Rannoch
moor at Glencoe; a local walk from a broad waterfall to the forth estuary where
the light is often bright grey; the late golden rays caress the mountain
skylines as the train trip on my return from Edinburgh to Glasgow.
Sometimes we just experience magic
moments and they are worth capturing.
Last week I heard a photography lecturer
dissect the famous Bresson image for nearly 30 minutes. It appeared less about
the image and much more about the words - but to me this famous shots is quite
simply about a good reflection.
Photography is about what inspires us,
and motivates our deepest passions and as with other art forms – it’ is about
expressing ourselves. I take photos of many things; mostly festivals and live
gigs. But I also appreciate photography of places – whether Ansel Adams almost
spiritual back and white captures of the majesty of Yosemite Park.
I have many ‘Treasures Places’
Quote – ‘Dawn was just coming up over
the Grand Canyon, the creeping light illuminating each rock it touched with
impossible shades of red, ochre, yellow and pink. You blinked and blinked
again, involuntarily. That morning the canyon exceeded its billing as one of
the rare places that surpasses anything a camera can capture. Meanwhile a
dispelled bloke from Sheffield said yet again
he was cold, he was hung over and wanted his breakfast. He gazed out over the
astonishing vista, ‘Seen one Grand Canyon, and
you’ve seen them all.’
Some people are like that. Place is just
somewhere they happen to be… the dead of spirit don’t much mind if every room
in every Holiday Inn is the same as every other room, if every Big Mac taste
exactly like every other big Mac….’Ian Bell

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