Texture of Color

 

I have been working on this Texture of Color project for over a year now.

It is far from complete but I could not hold back my excitement to share it any longer.

Some of these images I have already shared but most of them are new to the world. 

I hope you enjoy and don't worry this is just the start.

-A-

2011-2012 travels

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"When nobody is looking"

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Colors Change as Seasons do

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Fresh snow

20/20

They say hindsight is perfect.  I guess that's why a mirror can keep you safe while driving.  Like the image in the mirror, hindsight is a colorful and bright.  But, it is slightly distorted.  The overall image is sharp and clear, but some parts are missing.  The road ahead is dull, static, and monotone; behind us it is bright, dynamic and in color. Maybe hindsight is not so perfect... or maybe it is.

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As one

The water falls-fast and fierce. 

It then quickly calms 

inviting the fisherman in and calling him to be nurtured by the blue.

The water cuts a swath of renewal through the rugged terrain forcing us to be aware of the whole scene, not just its parts.  We must follow the image as one landscape flows into the other.  Everything is necessary, each part needs the other

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Bliss

I woke up early to meet up with some other travelers.  We braved the gusting winds and made our way to the main highway leaving Reykjavik in order to hitchhike to the Golden Circle, a nearby lake.  We waited for nearly an hour and no one stopped for us.  Eventually, sick of the wind smacking us across the face and trying to steal our hats, we gave up.  We decided to take a bus to the nearest town and to walk from there…after all Iceland is small, right?  After a short ride, we stepped off the bus and found the trail.  It soon became clear that it was anything but a short hike to the Golden Circle.  Instead, we decided to make our way up a mountain that jutted out of the nearby horizon.  We steadily made our way up the mountain, until suddenly we were at the top.  The view that greeted us at the top was a breathtaking as the powerful gust of wind hit me in the chest.  We spent the next few hours relaxing on the mountain top, watching the clouds sail by, and listing to nature's midday rush.
 Bliss.

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Paris

This is my Paris. Observe the foreground; seeing so many people in one place begins the visual rush, moving upward, along the striped umbrella, into a new scene: an expression, independent and untouched by the masses in charge of the photograph’s lower depths. This is Paris. Its transcendental beauty comes with a suffocating cost: the crowds.

Fall Fashion(Amelia)