dyingtobeanartist

The forest behind the trucks in the car park.

And there was always daily life, with its endless supply of oddities – if one has the eye to see them.

We ate dinner in silence that night.

“The sun shines to-day also. There is more wool and flax in the fields. There are new lands, new men, new thoughts.”

But it feels like sometimes the photo has been made by whoever/whatever. You just got to take it.

“But despite their reluctance to say so, most photographers have always had – with good reason – an almost superstitious confidence in the lucky accident.”

“But all natural objects make a kindred impression, when the mind is open to their influence.”

Beyond the moody clouds, there is always a blue sky.

“A little tap on the window-pane, as though something had struck it, followed by a plentiful light falling sound, as of grains of sand being sprinkled from a window overhead, gradually spreading, intensifying, acquiring a regular rhythm, becoming fluid, sonorous, musical, immeasurable, universal: it was the rain.”