A quick trip to the Farmers Market. Iced coffee and a BLT sandwich. A walk along Broad Street before the afternoon matinee, The Play That Goes Wrong. A swing through the Quirk gallery. Pictures made with pops of color. Some days are lovely in the way that they hold us tenderly.
I was waiting for my appointment with the massage therapist who uses myofascial release techniques. The one who later placed her hands on my body and sighed with sympathy. I was glad the camera was in the back seat of the car and happy for the creative moment. Not every photograph needs to be an important photograph. Sometimes the photo remains a single isolated moment of seeing. Other times the clarity comes later. But either way, there is joy in the noticing. The chairs look like an open invitation to sit and rest, but clearly the message is mixed.
The best part of gathering photos is that it allows me to think less, feel more. But sometimes, my feelings are wrong. I’ll take some photos that feel off or bad, only to edit and find that those iffy ones were the best in the batch. What would happen if I’d decided my way out of those? What if I became so decisive I’d decided my way out of making something that surprised me or helped me grow? —Greta Rybus, Berries and Quilts
I’m sure that the people who use this ferry on a regular basis, get used to the routine. They sit in their cars during the 20 minute ride across the James River and check their email. But for us, the ferry ride is a glorious adventure. Blue skies with big puffy clouds. Waves and wake. Cool breezes and open views. Water spray and sunshine and seagulls. The rock and roll of the ship. From Jamestown to Scotland.