Wait. Photo: beachradishimages
A guy of about 40 or so — my age, but don’t tell — walks up to this image titled “Wait” (above) and excitedly pronounces: “I hate that! I really hate that feeling… that feeling of just sitting. Waiting. You’re all just sitting out there. And nothing. It feels like forever.” He then turns around to the other black and white image titled “Day’s End” (below) and, immediately relieved, says, “Now that! That I like. I can identify with that. You’ve had a great session, and you’re about to head home. I really like that.”
He was the first person in the tent that day – before ArtWalk officially opened – and his reaction completely threw me. Of the two images, “Wait” is my favorite. It was taken at sunset, a warm orange glow reflecting off the water. It’s a pretty popular surf spot in these parts – a locals’ spot. A good locals’ spot. Minutes before, this crew was skillfully riding waves, cutting back… feeling, as I would imagine, stoked. And then, having paddled just beyond the break, they paused to watch as the sun set on another seemingly perfect day. To me, “Wait” is about the surfers’ community and a shared sense of awe at our fortune to exist in such a ridiculously beautiful part of our world. At the center of the image is a boy — a boy who, alongside his peers, will need to be a steward of conservation to ensure that his children can one day view this scene with the same awe.
And yet, this man hated that feeling. He clearly saw and felt something different than I’d intended – certainly different from how I thought it might feel, and how I perceived that moment. Maybe it was the black and white – but to me, the wonder is there even in the absence of the afterglow. The essence of the image is the mood – what you can’t see, but what you can hopefully feel.
Day’s end. Photo: beachradishimages
As an artist, you quickly learn that everyone has an opinion. I actually don’t mind it – I like that folks can observe the same image and take such vastly different things from it. “Day’s End” spoke to him in a way that the other did not. Oddly enough, to me, these images taken in completely different places almost one year apart aren’t so vastly different. The common thread is me – my view, my perspective, my assumptions of what that moment feels like.
But I am not a surfer (though I’m getting there. One slop session at a time) – and maybe I have it all wrong.
