Black and White
Seeing the world through a black and white filter is not as boring as it may seem. Having imagination allows the viewer to put their own color on the
scheme. The eyes really are the windows to the soul.
When I was walking in the forest the other day, I came upon a magnificent cluster of trees.
They beckoned to me as they swayed
to and fro, very few leaves, like a bald man hanging on to every last hair, they were holding hands and dancing to the music of the wind. The picture
I snapped may have been black and white, but the trees were so full of life, they had auras emanating from them as if they each had their own soul.
One was purple, one was gold, one was a vibrant green and one had a royal blue glow, for the viewer it was simply majestic to behold, use your own
imagination to see what I saw, it may be black and white on the surface, but we know, don’t we?
I enjoy taking photos in black and white so much that I never use color film. The lady next door had an old house, it was over 200 years old and had
beautiful ornamental windows and the craftsmanship of the crown molding throughout the house was amazing. Sadly, she died and the house fell apart
bit by bit. I was fortunate enough to find a spare key and decided to take a tour by myself. This was very brave of me since nobody would dare, it
was believed to be haunted by the dear sweet old lady.
In I went, up the winding stair case in the foyer, where I came face to face with a stunning view, on a mantle was a strange mirror with a spider web
It seemed to be etched into the glass itself, no spider was visible, but there was what appeared to be a “ghost
spider” in the middle of the web, very strange indeed. I took the picture in black and white, then I saw something move in the reflection of the
mirror, I snapped my head around and saw the remnants of a smoky fog disappear into the wall, what the heck was that, I thought. Upon further
inspection, it was clear to me that the spider web on the mirror was not the only one around, on the wall where I saw the fog go poof was an imprint
of another web and another “ghost spider”.
Maybe the lady that lived there was manifesting her energy as a “ghost spider”, for in every room of the house were the same type of webs, most of
them were just etchings, of course there were a few real ones but they didn’t have the same feel to them as the ones with the weird energy shooting
out of them. May she rest in peace while she spins her webs.
Angels are one of my favorite subjects to photograph, the Archangel Michael being my most sought after angel. History has given us many versions of
this beautiful angel in the form of statues and paintings, many of them reside in Rome, where I had the pleasure of taking a recent sabbatical. My
camera was busy that week. I could not get enough of the wonderful artwork and the opportunity to put my own black and white spin on them.
One statue was particularly interesting, it was framed by a mahogany staircase and placed in such a way as to have the
appearance of being swallowed by the stairs themselves, while in the upper background an ominous looking figure was standing over it. The statue had
its own glow that was protecting it from that creepy, voodoo looking idol. At least that was what I saw with my eyes. What do you see?
On a brisk fall morning, I was walking down main street, just taking a leisurely stroll, looking for something to catch my eye. I was not prepared
for the scene I came across, recently a store had closed that was dilapidated and full of trash. It was a porcelain and clay model store that had
caught fire when a pottery kiln overheated and exploded. Left in the chaos were many broken pieces, what caught my attention that day was this
cluster of broken children doll like figurines.
They almost seemed to be huddled together and left in a perpetual state of
shock. Their mouths were open as if to scream save me. It was a very disturbing sight to see. I was brought to tears at the very thought that these
children had been desecrated this way. I know they were just dolls, but they felt so real, I had to save them now. I picked up every piece and
placed them carefully in a box. On the way home, I stopped at the craft store and got some glue and paint.
I spent many weeks putting them back together and I gave them a nice place to hang out, in my gallery of black and white photos, where they would
never be alone again, the screaming had stopped and their joy and mine was evidential.