I occasionally feel as though my heart is something of a tale of two cities, a dichotomy split between the sister cities of the Pacific Northwest, Portland and Seattle. Yesterday, in order to fulfill this week's photography assignment of "architecture," I traveled to the heart of downtown Seattle to visit the infamous public library. I have been wanting to go there since...well, since I found out it existed, and I was far from disappointed. The chill, blue lower level, surrounded by walls of steel diamonds climbed to the floor of red and stairs, which led up to the lime green escalator, topped off by the modern level of computers and the records of Seattle's history. I believe only libraries can combine modern architecture with the antiquity of books and still come off as paradise.
One thing I love about my photography assignments is how they force me to look at one specific aspect of an idea, and then explore and push it until it forms into something I never would have otherwise seen, like viewing a building from underneath or a still life from the other side. While in the library, I wanted a shot up the stairs, so I squished my body against the wall and directed the camera up. In the Seattle Room, I wanted the image of the triangles on top of the other triangles, so I laid flat on my stomach on the floor, ignoring my dislike of dust and feet for the sake of my vision. Sometimes these things do not pay off; sometimes they do. But I think I learn more from the experience of trying them than from the satisfaction of a photograph that actually worked that time.
This concept does not remain in the lens of my camera. I force it to fit into the rest of my life as well. I notice the small beauties in the engineering of a chair, I note that the hanging artwork in the Rose Hill Starbucks has been switched out, I appreciate how flowers have been arranged. I think that everything becomes more beautiful when viewed not just as a whole, but for the details that make up that whole. Nothing exists apart from its details. It is just our job to find them.
I occasionally feel as though my heart is something of a tale of two cities, a dichotomy split between the sister cities of the Pacific Northwest, Portland and Seattle. Yesterday, in order to fulfill this week's photography assignment of "architecture," I traveled to the heart of downtown Seattle to visit the infamous public library. I have been wanting to go there since...well, since I found out it existed, and I was far from disappointed. The chill, blue lower level, surrounded by walls of steel diamonds climbed to the floor of red and stairs, which led up to the lime green escalator, topped off by the modern level of computers and the records of Seattle's history. I believe only libraries can combine modern architecture with the antiquity of books and still come off as paradise.
One thing I love about my photography assignments is how they force me to look at one specific aspect of an idea, and then explore and push it until it forms into something I never would have otherwise seen, like viewing a building from underneath or a still life from the other side. While in the library, I wanted a shot up the stairs, so I squished my body against the wall and directed the camera up. In the Seattle Room, I wanted the image of the triangles on top of the other triangles, so I laid flat on my stomach on the floor, ignoring my dislike of dust and feet for the sake of my vision. Sometimes these things do not pay off; sometimes they do. But I think I learn more from the experience of trying them than from the satisfaction of a photograph that actually worked that time.
This concept does not remain in the lens of my camera. I force it to fit into the rest of my life as well. I notice the small beauties in the engineering of a chair, I note that the hanging artwork in the Rose Hill Starbucks has been switched out, I appreciate how flowers have been arranged. I think that everything becomes more beautiful when viewed not just as a whole, but for the details that make up that whole. Nothing exists apart from its details. It is just our job to find them.
1 comment:
"I think that everything becomes more beautiful when viewed not just as a whole, but for the details that make up that whole. Nothing exists apart from its details. It is just our job to find them." I like that! It's perty true. :)
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