pgriz
Been spending a lot of time on here!
- Joined
- Jul 30, 2010
- Messages
- 6,734
- Reaction score
- 3,221
- Location
- Canada
- Can others edit my Photos
- Photos OK to edit
Hi!
Im a guy.
With a camera.
Sometimes, I
Take snapshots.
Then I think a little, aim a little, frame a little, squint a little, and
Take a photograph.
Sometimes, my snapshots are art.
When my daughter cuts them up and uses them in her collage.
Sometimes, my I think my photographs could be art.
Because people think I should print them.
But some think that photographs cannot be art, unless they were hand-coloured.
Dont know their position on spilled paint.
Im a beginner.
Ive clicked various shutters for forty plus years.
One of these days, Ill learn enough to ask the questions.
For now, I think about the questions to ask, and then about whos smart enough to answer.
Sometime, the answers to the questions I have not asked come
On a sunray on the window, or on the buzz of a bees wings on a flower.
Sometimes, the answer comes on the lips of a smiling child, who didnt say a word.
Sometimes, it is the breeze moving the leaves away so that we can see deeply inside.
And sometimes, there are no answers. Just unspoken questions hanging in the air, waiting to be discovered.
Im a guy.
With a camera.
Sometimes, I
Take snapshots.
Then I think a little, aim a little, frame a little, squint a little, and
Take a photograph.
Sometimes, my snapshots are art.
When my daughter cuts them up and uses them in her collage.
Sometimes, my I think my photographs could be art.
Because people think I should print them.
But some think that photographs cannot be art, unless they were hand-coloured.
Dont know their position on spilled paint.
Im a beginner.
Ive clicked various shutters for forty plus years.
One of these days, Ill learn enough to ask the questions.
For now, I think about the questions to ask, and then about whos smart enough to answer.
Sometime, the answers to the questions I have not asked come
On a sunray on the window, or on the buzz of a bees wings on a flower.
Sometimes, the answer comes on the lips of a smiling child, who didnt say a word.
Sometimes, it is the breeze moving the leaves away so that we can see deeply inside.
And sometimes, there are no answers. Just unspoken questions hanging in the air, waiting to be discovered.
