
For some people in our age, solitude can be luxury, and during intense activities with the mind or hand, deep emersion makes time irrelevant, at least for the few moments when we are totally focused. Good ideas seem to come with this solitary concentration, and there aren’t many precedents for limiting a good idea’s lifespan (death without documentation is the obvious one). It neither rots nor withers, but rebuilds upon itself with every new client.
In photographic images, the light arranges ideas on a flat surface, and makes territories that our minds can enter. When the image is good, we see it and we know it. We carry the memory of it. I believe with images that are memorable, we grow immeasurably, and sometimes get a small glimpse of the eternal.
Christopher Alexander, an architect and author of “The Timeless Way of Building” tried very hard to find an explanation for moments that are eternal. He was not trying to understand perfection, but rather those rare moments that generated harmonies in action, reaction and memory.
He fittingly describes a single experience:
I once saw a simple fishpond in a Japanese village that was eternal.
A farmer made it for his farm. The pond was a simple rectangle, about 6 feet wide and 8 feet long, opening off a little irrigation stream. At one end, a bush of flowers hung over the water. At the other end, under the water, was a circle of wood, its top perhaps 12 inches below the surface of the water. In the pond there were eight great ancient carp, each maybe 18 inches long, orange, gold, purple, and black: the oldest one had been there eighty years. The fish swam, slowly, slowly, in circles--often within the wooden circle. The whole world was in that pond. Every day the farmer sat by it for a few minutes. I was there only one day and I sat by it all afternoon. Even now, I cannot think of it without tears. Those ancient fish had been swimming, slowly, in that pond for eighty years. It was so true to the nature of the fish, and flowers, and the water, and the farmer, that it had sustained itself for all that time, endlessly repeating, always different. There is no degree of wholeness or reality that can be reached beyond that simple pond.
Christopher Alexander, The Timeless Way of Building
The message could not have been more clearly stated in trying to find an indelible sensation coupled with sudden understanding. The image painted in this passage becomes a meditation, while simultaneously functioning as a prayer…one that asks for nothing, but rather brings glorious augmentation to our levels of understanding.
Images and objects come along all the time, and occasionally give us a small glimpse of the eternal…

Child and reflection photographer unknown (larger image)

Victorian Family group photographer unknown (larger image)

Weber 2011 photograph by the author (larger image)

Jolly Gathering photographer unknown (larger image)

photos copyright © 2011 by Gary Justis


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Comments
Your top photo reminds me of a group of photos that I happen to have from the early '50s in which my brother was photographed in a number of shots next to our uncle's new Chevrolet convertible.
"Weber" is a fun and different type of evocative photo--how many of us have taken the time to capture a cool photo of our grill?
♥R
"Images and objects come along all the time, and occasionally give us a small glimpse of the eternal…"
This is wonderful.
G
What then will they have to hold and travel down memory lane. Their own one moment in time... The younger generation should read your post and thank you
Beautiful Gary.
Barry, Good to see you as always dear friend. I always have your work in mind for much of the inspiration with posts about images. That story from Alexander is profound…I’ve carried it with me for many years. Thank you Barry.
Diary, Good to see you and thanks so much.
Sheba, thanks and me to!
Dianaani, I think prayer can be a way of giving information back to …whatever…an intelligence perhaps. Why do we have to ask for things all the time? Can it not simply be informational?
Stacey, thank you for your continued visits and kind comments…I have catching up to do…
Thank you Patrick. Good to see you!
Jim, we both get a great deal of joy in holding a photo in our hands. That is a vanishing activity. I hope to see boxes and boxes of photographs still waiting to be rifled through at many flea markets and antique malls. It is a very gratifying hunt, and may it last for many years to come. Thanks for your visit Jim.
Sally! Thank you for the sweet comment. I have missed seeing you because I have been crazy busy with sculpture issues for some months now. I hope to catch up w you!
Trilogy, thank you for the sweet sentiment!
Monsieur…That’s a fine image and very kind. A treasure of a comment…Thank you Monsieur…
Tg, you are right, with every new viewing, we are more mature, more loaded up with new information and new sensations. Seeing art in multiple viewings is important.
Maria, Your comments always deliver a physical sensation when I read them. The poetics of your expression gives me chills…in a good way. You teach me, and our colleagues to see in new ways. I value that very much…carrying your thoughts in my head for hours. Thanks for coming to this forum. If all of us would compile your comments, we would have a meaningful and profound text.
When one can look at a photo and enter into the scene, feel surrounded by invitation, or emotion of the moment, or silence, when one walks away affected after the viewing...that is art.
We seem to be on the same page today -- photography as meditation, "like a prayer..." Yes. -V