Kat Eye Studio

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Seeing History

Through the Ages

After all of the color lately, here is a little relief for your eyes. A scene right out of history, you can practically go back in time. Can you just imagine, the Venice of old? It is such a unique place, I think it’s easier here to lose myself in history than almost any where else, especially in black and white. Removing the color minimizes the distracting modern details, like the scaffolding on the building or the tourist’s clothes in the gondola. It becomes a photo of place and not of time.

A bit of contrast as compared to yesterday, no? When I took yesterday’s photo I was thinking of a title something like, “So Bright it Hurts.” Heehee.

Is everyone ready for tomorrow? It’s not only Thanksgiving in the USA, it’s the Mortal Muses “We are Thankful” blog hop! Join us from wherever you are in the world, as we hop around and visit blogs to see the reasons you are thankful. I’ve got a special surprise for you here too, so please come by!

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Dark Nights

September.
We turn our heads reluctantly from summer,
start to look toward fall.
Morning crispness, school books.
Endings and beginnings,
sadness and possibility.
Enjoy every last golden moment of this month.
Squeeze out the last drops of summer and
hang it on the line to dry –
our memory of sticky days and thunderstorms,
wind in the leaves and crickets chirping.
These will keep us warm and cozy in the
long dark nights to come.

This is just something I randomly wrote down this morning in my journal, after I wrote in the date. It seemed to fit with this picture from Bath, the row of chairs at night, cool drops of rain on them, empty of tourists – foretelling of the seasons to come.

I am finding black and white photos very interesting lately. Before I left on my trip, I participated in the Mortal Muses black and white challenge. It was interesting to look through my photos and join in with some of my favorites. I was even one of the featured photos last week, in Thursday’s post.

Participating in this challenge got me to looking at my black and white photos as a body of work, instead of each one individually. I love color, but I like the feeling that black and white can evoke. The simplicity of light and dark, lines and spaces. It got me to thinking about how I don’t really see an image as black and white when I record it in real time, but when I see the photo on the computer it just asks to be black and white. Like this one, when I saw it in yesterday’s editing, I knew that this was the way it needed to be.

And somehow, the words I wrote this morning, the challenge I participated in last month, the photo I took last week and edited yesterday all came together for this post. I love how that happens.

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Light and Dark Places

Italy has changed me. It was so clear to me on our recent trip to Switzerland, where the perfectly clean and cared for towns were pretty, but not so inspiring to me artistically. Where was the texture, the peeling paint? Where was the reality, the truth? It seemed too perfect. Like a wall erected between me and the place. Just look at the pretty picture, admire the beauty, move on. Distracting me by the surface.

But what’s underneath the surface? That’s what I want to know. What is it like inside? What I see in the buildings and towns I visit is a metaphor for what is going on inside of me. I could have the perfect, controlled, beautiful exterior, but at what internal cost? Perhaps at the cost of creativity, the cost of self-expression. Or I can have an exterior that is not quite perfect, a little bit flawed, that doesn’t follow all the rules, but is full of internal life and energy. Allows for a creative expression of the self. But with that must come honesty, an awareness and acceptance of the flaws.

Which do I want?

It might seem an easy question, of course I want the texture, the energy, the life. I want all of the creativity that comes along with it. But to get that I have to truly recognize and accept the flaws, the light and dark places inside of me. Boy, is that hard.

I guess the fact that I’m recognizing this is a start. The fact that I’m seeing the light and dark both, choosing the texture and peeling paint, feels right. Feels real. And I am amazed at how, once again, I learn about myself through my art. I can’t hide when I express myself creatively, all of me is there, in the images I create. My photographs have something to show me, they show something of me, beyond the surface impressions.

Right now, they are showing me that my time in Italy has changed me. No doubt about it.

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Fundamental Shift

I came to a surprising realization this morning, that somewhere, sometime in the last year I have made a fundamental shift. I can see this shift in several ways…

In my photography, I have moved from the idea that I’m just capturing our travels to share with family and friends and remember later, to the idea that I’m creating art.

In this blog, I’ve found my voice, sharing my unique vision of the world around me and my creative journey.

In my self, I have moved from identifying myself as an engineer (my day job for the last 18 years) to identifying myself as an artist.

I am an artist.
Photography is my medium.
I have a unique vision to show the world.


Wow, that feels great to put out there. This is an exciting realization for me. I hope you continue with me on this journey, because who knows where it will lead.

(Photo is the entrance to the Marksburg Castle, outside of Braubach, Germany in the Rhine River Valley.)

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Architecture as Art

The attic of Casa Battlo, one of Antonio Gaudi’s houses, is a magic place. All arches and light. Gaudi was an amazing architect of the Modernista age in Barcelona, he was able to create such a wonderful feel in the spaces he designed, even in something as mundane as an attic where only the servants would go. He was an artist, and his canvas was the buildings and spaces he created.

The feeling of light, design, art inside Gaudi’s Casa Battlo was reminiscent for me of visiting Frank Lloyd Wright’s Gordon House in Oregon. It’s like you enter the space of genius. These places make me look at architecture differently, not just from the outside but from the inside too. And then I wonder why most of our buildings are boxes with holes in them for light, when we could have spaces like these.

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Radiating Lines

In the Avigunda Tibidabo station in Barcelona, the Line 7 subway comes in. I loved the radiating lines and emptiness of the station. The black and white really draws your eye to the lines. The chairs, the walls, the lights, the tracks. I love the station signs on the wall that tell you the location, the city and location within the city if you know enough, but it could be any station, any where. The radiating lines that are echoed in the subway map of the city, spreading outward to the edges.

The funny part is, this train came into the station, sat there for a few minutes and then left without letting anyone board. During that time the station filled up with people and the opportunity for this shot disappeared. It was as if the train came down the runway, posing for the beauty shots with perfect timing like a good model would. Thanks!