The rest of the night seemed to go by very quickly, and soon I was gathering my things to head home. There is always a few minutes of down time at the front of the store before the employees punch out and leave the building. While we were all standing there; I took out my camera and began taking shots of the ceiling lights with long exposures. Moving to the left, and to the right, twisting, and turning as I slashed at the air with my camera. "What are you taking pictures of", asked one of my co-workers? "Just taking long exposures of the lights for a bit of light painting", I explained. I just got this look that seemed to say "Oh, that's nice". It makes me want to try and explain myself, and I hate when I feel that way. Ultimately, there will always be those who will be unimpressed, unmoved, and uninterested in what I'm doing. Still, I know that there will be enough who do care, and are interested in my work. Really I guess you could say I need them both. I'm trying to create something out of nothing in spare moments that seem to have no use. My goal is to prove that art is everywhere all the time like succulent, ripe fruit hanging from a tree waiting to be picked. Needing to be picked and needing the farmers to harvest them. That's it! I'm an "Image Farmer and the images I photograph are my crops. That really resonates with me as it seems an apt way to describe what I am doing. It suddenly made the whole concept of what I was doing more simple. More special. I was a Farmer and it was time to harvest.
We all punched out and headed out the door to our cars. As usual we all walk slow and make small talk as we head into the parking lot. Tonight I decided to keep my camera out and farm while we walked out. Holding my camera near my chest; I snapped many frames as we all walked. At one point, I turned back toward the building to interact with one of my co-workers, and I squeezed off a shot. It seemed like we were just walking out to our cars, yet we were really walking into a grand Orchard full of delicious fruit ready to be picked and then devoured. I must admit to feeling a bit of power wash over me at the thought that I realized this and they didn't. Right in their midst I was harvesting art and salivating at how good it was going to taste. Even if I told them to look at the trees and see what is there; I doubt that most of them could see it. They are not farmers, and while I don't feel superior because of this; I feel more alive and connected to my surroundings. They need me; conversely, I need to provide visual nutrition for them. As I set in my car before leaving; I glanced at what I had reaped, and I saw I had harvested a good crop. I smiled as I pulled out of the Orchard and wandered how many were still out there that even I hadn't seen. In time I suppose new ones will sprout up before me, and I will be ready. After all, I am an Image Farmer in the Land of Mundane.
Happy Farming.
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