Anatomy of a Composition - Finding time

To say that time is elusive is to acknowledge the foolishness of trying to “bottle” it. 

Putting together an annual calendar is a challenge every autumn, not the least because of the volume of images in a particular year, but more importantly the distinct memories that each image invokes. 

Not only is there the specific memory of the setting and the moment the image was captured, but there are deeper memories, the actual “why” behind each scene, each setting. These memory holes are not merely time consuming, they tie me to a past and to events that have given my life so much meaning.  So yes, I get lost in them a bit, I get lost in time. I genuinely relish each of those journeys even if they are brief.

My first trips to Crested Butte were nearly accidental.  Each trip was for the wedding of a friend, though I wasn’t able to spend any real time there. Later Katie ignited my imagination, sharing her own memories of her time there - the cross country skiing, a horribly dislocated hip, and the solemn beauty of Lake Irwin. We never shared any time there, but the proceeding years taking a motorcycle, and then a camera, are not just testaments to the draw of this place, but the power of time with someone who openly shared their stories and time with me.  

So each trip along the East River, up and over Kebler Pass, or deep into the shadow of the Castles ticks my own memories of fleeting moments, of arrested time.  I feel that I do a disservice to these memories, but diving into them is the easiest way for me to find that time, and open the tiniest bottle of it.

Kebler Pass - Sony a7iv w/ FE 24-70 GM - ISO 160 | F/8 | 1/400 sec ~ 70mm