On the Infinitesimal, Fleeting and Momentary
Found objects. A muddied crushed flower on a well travelled road. Dead, crumpled metal, peeling paint and scratched glass pregnant with promise. Expressions. A flicker in the eyes, mirth and humour, sorrow and angst. Go deeper. A movement inwards. Resolve. Focus. Quiet self communion, strange noises in the head and deafening clarion calls. Frames. Defining boundaries. Of humanity in the throes of existence and of life in the face. Nothing sleeps. Nothing awakes. Relationships. Subtle, exchanged glances rife with meaning.
Tensioned, contrary spaces within long companionships. Happenstance. A situation that gets noticed out of thousands that don’t, each day, each giving way to a thousand more oddly juxtaposed, yet plausible possibilities. Light. Rarely, if ever, will one pass it by in the same form and shape twice in a lifetime, with a smaller chance of this being seen. Continually changing, fractionally manipulated by an iris and a lesser known math equation. Time. Etched, burrowed, flowing indiscriminately with no beginning or end, except for our notion of it.
Sliced, split, divided into one 1/125th of a second, infrequently of our own choosing. It does not take much to make a picture. In fact, it takes extraordinarily little. Of the 300 billion moments trapped and twirling in cyberspace, and between the important, poignant, sensational and truly noteworthy, so very few make the final cut, and are remembered for whatever they are worth. Lest we forget… photography is visual haiku, of discovering the infinite in the infinitesimal, and the stationary in the fleeting.Tags: Edit note, July 2015, K Madhavan Pillai