It is funny how a color or a scene can stop you in your tracks and you simply have to stop any play with the scene and your favorite camera (or phone) to see if you can conjure something up. The funny thing is that images like these don’t portray anyone, don’t inform, don’t DO anything. They just are. Yarn. There were a thousand other nagging things to be doing, laundry, dinner, and Lily needs help with her big giant Lego set. But I was like a dog who sees a squirrel. I had to play with the yarn until I had the pictures that I wanted. Then 30 minutes later when the sun coming through the window had changed the colors significantly…well I had to play with that, too.
Cameras are an addiction. You start seeing life not as a movie, but as a collection of still moments…potential images. And in that world, a ball of yarn can be as entertaining as a mountain vista (or something that you might actually get paid to shoot).
Rambling and clicking. Moving and clicking. Adjusting and clicking. Humming on in my own little universe…sort of hiding behind a camera. I’m hiding from my laundry. I’m hiding (a little) from my kids because I don’t want to help figure out the 9th level of Pokemon hell, and I’m hiding from getting into my office and figuring out the balance between the creative and the economic, and the family and the professional. I have a lot of balls in the air right now, and taking pictures of yarn seems like a very nice way to avoid learning how to successfully juggle.