View allAll Photos Tagged metaphor
Back in February, Punxsutawney Phil predicted six more weeks of winter for the United States. For my part of the world, it felt more like only six days. Unseasonably warm weather began to infiltrate throughout March and continuing on thus far into April. The result has been the early emergence of tree buds that has progressed into full blown leafing. My beloved bare tree limbs have vanished nearly a month ahead of schedule. I count on early to mid spring to wring out the last of the dreary photos before summer foliage fills in, creating a more cheerful look to the landscape. Not going to happen this year. I've nothing against summer. I love the warmth, long sunny days, and all that goes with that such as gardening. I just have difficulty moving from one season to the next. I reveled in the dreariness of winter (once it arrived) even though I hated seeing last summer die. Honestly I know as complaints go, this one sounds petty. I would be apoplectic if winter arrived a month early; now that would be the basis for a solid complaint. So I'll just leave this as more of an observation about uncanny weather.
Along the way I thought there no better way to illustrate the effective use of bare limbs than a photo such as this. Nothing drives home the visual metaphor of abandonment than the neglected landscaping that comes with it. I'm always looking for visual reinforcements such as this to create photos that tell a story. This is the house I've been documenting lately, the local abandonment that is being razed. The is like some off-world Fisher-Price product: "My First Abandonment" due to its accessibility and prominent location. No sneaking around or furtive attempts at hiding your car. Just walk right up and start snapping away, all from the safety of a public sidewalk. For me it was a way to hone my skill at this sort of photography and I came to understand how to capture the essence of old houses. And the close proximity, just like the cemetery, allowed me to jump right over there the moment conducive sky or weather conditions appeared. Unlike a toddler with a toy, I never really outgrew this one. In a way I feel like a mean parent is simply taking it away from me. I suppose some new toy will soon come to replace the old one. Until then I'm waiting it out.
Metaphor - DOING TIME, the "key" to getting out. Composite - Eastern State Pen, PA. I made a chapter ring(he ring around the clock face dial with numerals) For hands I took an image of the prison main gate replica key and made the hands for the dial. The Droste effect was used to make the dial image spiral with displacement maps.
I made this two years ago for some digital retard class.
I loved it, minus the text and little girl I threw it in.
So, here it is.
Without any of the dumb stuff.
Dès l'aurore
Ma rivière se revet d'or
Devient métaphore
Reflet de ma rivière sauvage …!!!
Un safari photo impressioniste au quotidien concentré essentiellement (ou presque) sur un petit morceau de planète de 55 000 pieds carrés ...!!!
Une démarche "waldennienne" à la Thoreau …!!!
_______________________
Metaphor
At the dawn
My wild river is clothed in gold
Becomes metaphor
My wild river reflection …!!!
An impressionnist photo safari concentrated mainly on a daily basis (or almost) on my small piece of planet of 55 000 square feet …!!!
A Thoreau "waldennienne" approach …!!!
On the drive to Agra from Delhi, the passenger of an auto rickshaw caught my eye. I wondered if the man on the left was dreaming of San Francisco.
This could also be a metaphor for mindfulness, the man on the right is worried about the future, the man on the left is trying to hold on to the past. The woman in the middle, however, is solidly in the present.
I've been studying the effect of rich color saturation in photos lately. It's come to the forefront as a result of seemingly endless forays exploring the radiant hues of autumn. Sometimes I find myself reacting more to the color than the overall scene, and often to the detriment of the resulting photo. It's only human nature I suppose. We all respond to visual stimulants such as the vibrant color in a landscape, the freshness of a new fallen snow, dramatic skies, and on and on. Things like this often overwhelm the senses, but they don't always translate into quality photos. One test I administer to my photos desaturating them in post processing. Either drop out all of the color, or convert them into monochromes. It's quite shocking to see a proverbial picture postcard morph into a dull and lifeless quagmire. Quite often color is the only glue that binds the image. Absent the color, there's simply nothing left. This is not to say that shooting for the impact of color is bad or wrong. It has more to do with shooting in a style that conveys better in monochrome. Or perhaps a style adaptable to both. The other side of this coin is when rich color actually detracts from an image. I often dull down color and highlights to enhance an oppressive mood. Or in the case with this image, remove the color so as better to focus the eye on the foliage. All summer long, this abandoned house is cloaked in dark green leaves that form a shadowy, virtually impenetrable cocoon. The structure is revealed as the seasons change and leaves begin to drop. However there is a magical couple of weeks when the house is still partially concealed be leaves, but the dark greens of summer have given way to the pastels of autumn. It is this lightness that I set out to capture here, the moments when black becomes white...the annual metamorphosis in progress.
We've shot right past the peak daylight of late June here in northern Ohio. Came and went as it always does, unnoticed; simply lost in the blur as days slip into weeks. I'm having to reverse course now on my evening activities...doing the same things, but doing them earlier before darkness sets in. I've been riding my bicycle lately out to the township line. Great stress reliever, great exercise, and more often than not, great life moments. I just love the solitude of the rural roads and expanses of farmland. For me there's always been a high level of spiritual energy surrounding crop fields. It's similar to that Zen feeling I feel in my own tiny vegetable garden. But it's at the steroid level adjacent to multi-hundred acre cornfields. So I'm already predisposed to a metaphysical thought process just being here. But some evenings the sky erupts into insane color and texture as the sun sets. Happened several days in a row last week. No two alike, and extremely dynamic in nature. The color expands and collapses within minutes or even seconds. It ripples across the clouds, and presents hues so vivid and saturated that it seems surreal. I've come to realize the feelings I associate with these moments have less to do with the actual colors, but the sense of awe that overwhelms me as I experience them. I'm not merely witnessing the color, I'm being enveloped in it as the last light is squeezed out of the day.
Figure of speech that implies comparison between two unlike entities, as distinguished from simile, an explicit comparison signaled by the words “like” or “as.”
The distinction is not simple. The metaphor makes a qualitative leap from a reasonable, perhaps prosaic comparison, to an identification or fusion of two objects, to make one new entity partaking of the characteristics of both. Many critics regard the making of metaphors as a system of thought antedating or bypassing logic.