Street Photography in Stormy Weather Conditions
A picture is nothing but a bridge between the soul of the artist and that of the spectator — Eugène Delacroix
Time is like the weather, you have to constantly watch it as it changes, morphs, and stretches into its surreal combinations of drenching, drying, blowy atmosphere.
Clouds shift across blue skies and block the sun, release it, dim it, split its rays into wild shafts. Two hours can pass through our lives like a mad clown on a bicycle.
Then it slows to a rhythmic pulse of impatience.
I used to read the Diary of Eugene Delacroix. It’s a wonderful compilation of his thoughts and discoveries an artist. He was a French oil painter determined to do his own ‘thing’.
I remember one passage in the book; he had been to a concert to see his friend Chopin play a concerto — the description, and Delacroix’ critic of the concert was in itself an eye opener to how to listen to music.
What caught my attention was the notes he made on the journey back to his quarters. He sat in the carriage and observed the rear end of the horses as they moved in the sunlight.
The horses’ muscles from the point of the tail to the shoulders shifted and moved in the…
