Monthly Archives: February 2015

nightfall provenance

lightfall prominence (version 3) © 2014 Jered Dawnne

lightfall prominence (version 3) © 2014 Jered Dawnne

sometimes, when the night is deepest, i return to this place, in my head, and i wander. i would have roamed those mountains for months, if i could have, and while I was pleased with the angles that i had, they will never be enough. if only i could. if only.

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dark brightened

dark brightened © 2007, 2015 Jered Dawnne

dark brightened © 2007, 2015 Jered Dawnne

this was christmas day, now seven past, in a time i may be glad i cannot really remember. i was operating on remote, at the end of one of my toughest creative years, with another large wedding looming before me at the turn of the year. images such as this were far more haphazard than they seem, because moments of solitude like this were few and far between. i let them sit for seven years because i was broken, and they were broken, and like everything from my past, they take considerable effort to repair. they were captured with a broken lens, and that means not a single one can stand on its own “as shot.” but, i get to them, each one, each throw-away, each keeper. and i touch them with eyes attached to a brain that barely remembers those fleeting emotions that compelled me to get out and capture them. and each time i put one out, it is a little life, and a little death.

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once lived

once lived © 2007, 2015 Jered Dawnne

once lived © 2007, 2015 Jered Dawnne

the trouble with capturing some of these old farmhouses in the winter is that white paint and white snow make for a fairly washed-out image. so, i play and i play and it takes me quite a while to make an actual decision, which i will subsequently rethink multiple times. i chose this version for “once lived” because it represents how the place made me feel the evening i photographed it: that quiet, uneasy, unwelcomeness. that much was probably projection on my part, of course, but between the living and the gone-to-earth, the places people set aside for other things always seem to simultaneously cry out for renewal and shoo visitors away. it’s a strange place, my head, and stranger even more through the lens, sometimes.

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what then shall come

what then shall come (prime), copyright © 2007, 2014 Jered Dawnne

what then shall come (prime), copyright © 2007, 2014 Jered Dawnne

there are times when my mind wanders to past things, to past haunts, to past hopes unrealized: to moments gone before and lost in streams of consciousness that can no longer be recalled. there are nights like this when i don’t even need to wonder if i will sleep, if the peace will come, if the silence will enfold me: these complement the nights when the dreams drive from the ætherial to the over-saturated hypercolour prominences that sneak into the waking. dreams woven in sound and vague wanderings no longer trouble me as they once did: it is the memory of what i escaped to be there and capture these moments, only to haunt me each time i revisit them and walk those times anew.

the winter before this photo was taken, these trees were nearly decimated by a severe ice storm. i was unable to capture the ice when it occurred, so maybe that’s why i think this, but i rather enjoy the way they looked that first year afterwards, with just one summer’s growth, and the aching need to survive.

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