white pickup

white pickup, originally uploaded by GeWilli.

the whole digging out the picture per request by Peanut had me looking back at some of the images in my Flickr account.

The bulk of the images represent a time in my life where the camera was my only form of expression. I channeled passion through the lens. Successfully or not. The Flickr account represented a group of the work, many pinhole camera images went un-scanned, many digi-cam shots went un-uploaded.

Shots like this both are compelling to me now. One because the image was one of those rare right place right time captures. These two cars passing a tree, each car driving about 65-80 mph and click. Captured. Two because this really was one of my favorite trees along the drive. The dead form and of the branches year round, with the aged and wonderful bark were inspiring and beautiful.

The long flat horizon i don't miss, much. It was a long drive in retrospect. 75 miles each way. Every day. Rain or shine, Darkness or Light, Snow or Wind, back and forth. Drive like a bat out of hell, heart racing foot hovering over break looking for the gumball cruisers, or chill with the cruise control on, never made a huge amount of time difference. The cruise control driving and meditation aspects helped me learn to relax while driving. It was a good thing.

Now my commute is far more emotionally engaging. Instead of battling the elements from inside the confines of my Golf TDI, i'm exposed on the bike. Racing home gets me there a touch sooner but taking it easy isn't an unreasonably long trip on the bike either.

Instead of being surrounded by farm fields, I'm surrounded by water. Instead of seeing the farm machinery working the fields seasonally I pass fishermen plying the waters for their own sustenance. I see the gulls and waterfowl harvesting the bounty of the bay for their own food. No fields of sugar beets or mint do I pass anymore but I see mountains of Coal and Salt being off loaded, and I can watch the fuel oil tankers rise out of the water as their cargo leaves the hold through the pipeline I ride under.

My keys aren't the trees on the side of the road, but now they are the the flag on the lighthouse Island and that unique and perfect tree there too. The shells on the road are like the dirt clods on 127/27 from the sugar beet trucks. Seasonal road hazards to be avoided.

Life is very different. My creative passions are being sucked and channeled into sport now. To maybe the same extrinsic fair to middlin results as I had with the photography, but with somewhat equal and worthy self reward.

'Bought time I pump out a good introspection piece. Eh?!

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