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This is a project I did for my American Poetry class. I’m still learning how to make iMovie submit to my authority, but this is the product. It’s a media arts response to Robert Frost’s “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening” and Wallace Stevens’s “The Snow Man.” Both poems are interspersed throughout the photos.
A photo taken one late July evening on a small lake in the northern half of the state.
As you know, first and foremost, I am a writer at heart. My mind always wants to put into words the beauty of the things I see with my eyes. But sometimes I can’t walk away from a scene like this without capturing it. I’m a hobby photographer, which means I have a semi-decent camera that could take great pictures if it had a more knowledgeable operator behind the lens. It means that I just learned what a lens hood is, how to change the shutter speed and how NOT to take someone’s wedding pictures.
Several people are claiming photography as a hobby as they snap pictures with a point-and-shoot of themselves in the mirror and their pets sleeping soundly on the couch. I’m not one of those people. I’m young and learning, but I hope someday to use this gift as a blessing to others, not necessarily as a profit for me.
ORANGES will always be ORANGE
that’s the god honest truth.
and which came first,
orange or the fruit?
the twelfth hour and the first hour
(like the white and the yolk leaning together)
crack the egg, the golden ball
bursts
a solar flare in a white universe
now orange, now black
and ash-filled, like the days of April
leaning together
their hair mixes like two young girls
lying in tilty blades of prairie grass
before they rise to run–motion blurs
in a camera lens–something the glass
can’t tell apart.
I lie here waiting for the next day to start.
it never does.
