A Memory of Cherry Blossoms

I think of Soapbox Photo as a new medium for examining what it is I'm communicating through photography. Since this is a space I am devoting to the interconnection of images and ideas and stories, I thought I would begin by posting this photo of a ceramic figure captured after a snowfall along the Seattle Waterfront. The image had a Haiku feel to it so I looked through my Haiku books and found this poem by Den Sute-jo (1634-1698)

Yuki no asa / ni no ji ni no ji no / geta no ato,
or translated from Japanese by Hiroaki Sato:

Morning snow;
figure two figure two
wooden clog marks.

It seemed an interesting companion for this image. I saw an air of nostalgia in the woman's expression. I felt a Haiku of my own which I included in the photograph.

Just as every digital image file is embedded with metadata (invisible pieces of information that determine its visual content), every photograph is embedded with messages, emotions and the idiosyncratic leanings of the photographer. It's part of my creative process to look at an image and ask myself what I see in it. Photography sometimes feels like an act of rebellion in a hyper-mobile world, a vain attempt to seize it before it changes or disappears, to freeze it in time and give it space on my hard drive. But what makes a photograph most interesting for me is the emotion that comes through and the knowledge that the captured image embodies the impermanent nature of our world and our lives. The moment is here and then gone. The photograph becomes not only the tangible proof that it ever existed, but an unflinching reminder that life is a constant stream of letting go in order to be present.