The Opening

E

vents and memories of them last a long time. Eventually, we process them the best that we can. Musicians write songs, writers discuss what happened with their words.

Photographers and artists who work on paper make some kind of visual statement.

That’s what I did.

We hunkered down when Hurricane Ida struck on the exact same day — August 29 — that Hurricane Katrina did sixteen years earlier. We stayed because that was lockdown summer.

Think about that. What, if anything, does that mean?

I started documenting the destruction around me. It was hot sweaty work.

But, that’s not who I am anymore.

I started looking for subject matter that could be assembled and layered into whatever form my mind, heart and soul dictated. Working this way let my intuition take over and decouple my brain.

And, it is my kind of prayer.

You know, “the work is the prayer.”

Remember that. Always.

L

et me try to discuss some technique.

The original photograph was made of a big white cloud that appeared in the blue sky. I could see it between two buildings.

I composed it so that there is a power pole in the center. If you look closely you’ll a power line coming in from the right, but that’s where it stops.

Then I started tinkering, all the while never thinking about what I was doing.

I added the first layer which just made things look a little grungy.

That wasn’t enough depth so I added the trees and green stuff. Not only did it add depth but it muddied up the sky.

I tried to finish it in OnOne, but there was not much that I could do.

I knew the picture was complete.