Poetry and photography for me are art forms which speak of the same things in different ways—one gathers light and imagery, the other gathers light and forms into words. Yet, the same source, the same system applies. Both are attempting to capture pieces of the universe so deeply that they burst forth in the form of words or images. We try to understand the world by capturing it, even if we know we'll never truly grasp it. And that is precisely why we do it—to reach for the depths of what we may never fully comprehend.
This morning, on my walk with my puppy, I picked up this beautiful red leaf. One week before Christmas, and this leaf was the epitome of Christmas red—its vibrant beauty seemed to embody the season. It made me reflect on how the seasons change so elegantly, each blending slowly into the next, in a seamless transition. This leaf grew through the seasons, turned its colour in Autumn and transitioned into winter to this deep red, in its last moments lying on the ground. I was compelled to capture the revelation of it, a small detail of life which is all around us speaking quietly of something delicately larger. Sometimes I seek to capture these tiny little things, realising that these are not so tiny at all.
I didn’t have my camera or phone with me, nor a pen to write, so I simply held the leaf and brought it home. I will press it because it seemed to ask to be remembered. A simple leaf, a single moment in time—yet it seemed to hold the essence of so much more.
This is exactly how I feel about photography. When a student asks me how to become a better photographer, I often find myself saying, “Learn poetry.” It may sound strange, but in that moment, it makes perfect sense. For the photographer is also a poet, if we are truly in the business of capturing something—not just an image, but the spirit of a moment, a feeling, an essence.
I once read a biography of an elderly lady who had been a photographer her entire life. At the age of 80, she put down her camera and began writing poetry. She described it as a seasonal shift—moving from one to the other. She said, “They are the same—only one is visual, the other words, but they describe the same thing.”
Photography and poetry are two sides of the same coin, each capturing fleeting moments of the human experience so they don't just fly away into dust, that they can be remembered and in the remembrance we give the life back to them so we may deepen our own fleeting existence.
I always held on to the words of John Steinbeck when he said, "the camera need not be a cold mechanical device. Like the pen, it is as good as the man who uses it. It can be an extension of the mind and heart.” and now all that I just wrote is held within them.
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