This week’s make is about storytelling with light. I’ve wandered around in my mind about this, as usual. Does the light have to come from a coin battery and copper tape and an LCD light? I don’t think so. Could it be moving light photography, like the photo above, bringing up a story of a cold walk on a December evening, taking pictures of Christmas lights? Of course it could.
Maybe it’s the light of a child’s spinning toy, that brings memories of a special night out.
Or a single porchlight, creating a bird of paradise on the wall, that brings forth an almost forgotten love story.
Or what about a really great sunset, all fiery and hot? Certainly this could be the impetus for a story. Or at least a backdrop for a story. A memory of a desperate need to get to the river before the sun set to glimpse the last moments of the day.
Sometimes the light is cold, seeping into your body, bringing up memories of times gone by, wintry times of emptiness, when you were really glad to get back to your warm home, even though no one but you were ever there.
Consider the glow of a backlight that puts in silhouette a bride arranging her reception table before the guests arrive.
Not everyone knows that it’s the last few minutes of the sunset, just before the sun is gone that is the most beautiful. Most people leave too soon, missing the best part. The story.
When the moon goes behind a cloud, it’s easy to imagine angels in the sky, moving around, back and forth.
And sometimes the the water won’t absorb the light for anything. It just throws it back and back in a stunning play of glimmer, as though the Earth is showing off her glory. One can never get enough of scenes like this; our eyes hunger to take it all in and hold it fast.
These particular light stories hint at stories of solitude and pensiveness. A different set could tell a different type of story completely.