Purple rain on snowy rooftops

“As an artist I have always felt that my task is not to create meaning but to charge the air so that meaning can occur. In all my pictures of people or places I see something of myself…it is no mystery that we can only photograph effectively what we are truly interested in or—maybe more importantly—are grappling with. Often unconsciously.” --Todd Hido.

I have gone back daily to the portrait of an elder Bhutanese woman that I made on Saturday (Extra). What I think I see in her is self-acceptance and compassion. She seems to my eyes to be entirely herself, without apology and without effort. She seems fully present, neither idealistic nor cynical, balanced and free of judgment of herself and others. She and I don’t speak the same language, so I don’t know if she is the woman I’m seeing, or if I’m projecting or making this up. Probably Todd Hido is right: these are issues I’m grappling with. It’s who I’d like to be; it’s who I see in her. Coincidence?

The earth released purple rain during today’s sunset and soaked snow-covered rooftops in color for about five seconds as crows swooped and cried out to each other, and then all color disappeared and the earth became eerily quiet, except for the continual hiss and dull roar of traffic.