February 6, 2007
A Postlude, for this postlude.
I’m never more aware of the Earth’s immediate atmosphere than at the edges of the day. And I often get to see both of those edges, just in reverse order from the norm. My bedroom faces southeast, and as I wrap up my work night and trod off to sleep in the early morning hours, I’m blanketed with the visual lullaby of a blazing sunrise. Orange/salmon/red/yellow light beams straight into my window, and bounces off my walls and mirror. For many, the rising sun announces the beginning of yet another day. For me, it celebrates the peaceful end of one. Light has no effect on my ability to begin dreaming. Perhaps it enhances it, and the more psychedelic the rays, the more vivid the reverie.
And then there are the moments like this one, pictured above. Sunset delineates when I make the shift from my afternoon of interacting with other people’s requests, to when I can drape myself in precious hours alone in the studio. It’s often the time I’ll take a break and bring my toes to the sand. Sometimes I curse my tardiness, knowing I could take better photos with more overhead light. But there are other rewards, like this.