One of the reasons I like taking photographs is because I can see something from a different perspective or point of focus. I like to do that with thought too. To see things from a view other than my own, to expand my own view. It is not about positive or negative, black and white or colour, or right and wrong, but just seeing more than what I see now… I may never see the whole, but if possible I want to see beyond the portion which seems to be the one I have. Something like that.
Using manual focus I can bring into view different aspects of the same thing. I used the manual focus for this series of shots, sometimes I’m lazy and stick with auto-focus, because I wanted to capture the raindrops on the window as well as the view beyond. The last picture is very messed with in Photoshop because I have a migraine and things look very different to me when I have one, and my migraines, even when I medicate them quickly enough to dull the pain, change how I view the world around me. I wanted to express that without giving others a migraine too. But sharing a view.
This Summer was surprisingly rainless, but now that Autumn, which was also quite dry, is giving way to Winter… rain has arrived, wet and in some ways wonderful even if cold, and so this is my habitual view out of one of the first windows of which I look out every day.
Does this count as a habit? I look out of this window to know what kind of day it is, even when I can hear what kind of day it is by the traffic on the road, the sounds of it on a dry day and on a wet day, and by the push of wind against the window even with the curtains drawn, or the sound of rain finding its way down the chimney even if the flue is twisty. And other signals of nature… including human nature.
Sometimes when we view things we only see the raindrops on the window. Sometimes life is black and white. Sometimes we refocus and colour seeps in. Sometimes we ignore the raindrops and see beyond them… and sometimes something, like a migraine, obscures our view, we see, but we see differently than if the pain was not there.