We were on a beach on Flinders Island in Tasmania a couple of years ago. As dusk approached, what drew my gaze, oddly enough, wasn’t what was out on the horizon - the ultimate trifecta of sky/sea/sunset - but the effect of the fading light on the sand beneath my feet.
In retrospect, I think that this scene brought back memories of a recent, deeply personal loss. It reminded me of the transient nature of life, and the need to find one’s meaningful, if momentary, place in the continuum of change, which can be cause for celebration, source of sadness, and everything in between.
Specific Feedback Requested
Any feedback on the composition, exposure, white balance and any other technical aspect would be most welcome. I also wonder if the use of light as the subject was too simple and obvious a choice to make in this instance. Would having another element or focal point make the image more impactful?
Beautiful image Alan, and I can talk a lot about this one, as it really resonates with me.
There are numerous ways to make photographs; with a planned strategy, spontaneously, technically, emotionally, freely, or methodically. Each of the produce different results, and finding the way that suits you on any given day is the secret to a happy creative life.
It seems to me that this image represents the confluence of who you were in that moment, and something in the landscape triggering a connection. Interesting that you use the words “on reflection” as that implies you weren’t thinking too much at the time you were in the field.
Intuition is our best friend in creative expression. Feeling goes further than thinking.
The danger can be when we start to over think it, especially in retrospect. “I wish I could have” “If only I had” etc. You didn’t, but what you did do was unique and right at the time. When you overthink these creative choices you’re no longer engaged with intuition, you’re engaged with comparative language and doubt.
You made an image that I believe is incredibly expressive, it means something to you and the memory of the person no longer with us. What greater honour can you give? It’s a beauty.
