Light is to a photographer the substance that gives shape to the world.”
The story has it that on the first day, the Divine created all matter. He then wanted to create light, so he could sit back and admire the work he had just accomplished.
Light is what makes our world visible. It outlines rocky capes, bathes valleys, and sparkles at the tip of waves. It lends its warmth to autumn, and gets pale in the winter. It wakes us up in the morning, and takes us back to sleep at night.
I sometimes find myself in proper awe of these celestial spectacles. I am reminded that light isn’t of a terrestrial nature, it is a cosmic force. It reaches us all the way from a star, that fireball hanging in the sky a hundred fifty million kilometers away. Without its warmth and clarity, life wouldn’t be possible on Earth, and of course, there would be no photography.
Over the course of my adventures, I have familiarized myself with its many moods, and made it into an ally. Light is the muse, the source, the carrier, and the one from which, when it disappears, I await the return.
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