There are times as an artist when forces align, coincidences occur with profound impact, and a vision is born… only to fall. This photo was one of those times for me. It was captured by my camera last October while on a spontaneous dart to a nearby park during a short window without rainfall… a rare opportunity to snap some autumn leaves. I’ve always had this overwhelming drive to take pictures of those elusive gifts from nature and the moment held such great possibility.
In the weeks leading up to that moment my mind had been swimming with visions of helping a friend develop a brand titled ‘Wildvine’, when what should appear along the trail but a wall of vines with the leaves dressed in their fall colors… right before they fell. It was quite remarkably the first time as a photographer when what I saw in my camera lens was not my final vision. I knew what it would take for me to bring my vision to life, that what I envisioned would require me to grow as an artist, walk a path that led into something larger than I knew myself to be, and that I too may fall. So in those few moments before the rain returned, I snapped away.
That vision was born many months ago, now the leaves are but decay to fertilize the world for future growth, and this afternoon as I sit engaged in my end of the year reflection, gathering my best photos of 2012 together to share, I came across the raw image that never had the chance to be born into the vision my heart fell for. And for no other reason than I needed to see even just a small bit of what I dreamed come to reality, I did what I had never done before… I began to make my first Just Jenuine Creation with the intent to share a piece of my heart, not just a quote.
Then true to the coincidences to sound and sight that guide my life, as I crafted this art Pandora played the perfect song. So to add another dimension to this masterpiece, I linked the title of the song to a video that ironically satisfies a bit of my thirst for autumn beauty, and I included the lyrics below.
On raglan road on an autumn day,
I saw him first and knew
That his dark hair would weave a snare
That I might one day rue.
I saw the danger and yet I walked
Along the enchanted way
And I said let grief be a falling leaf
At the dawning of the day.
On grafton street in november,
We tripped lightly along the ledge
Of a deep ravine where can be seen
The worst of passions pledged.
The queen of hearts still baking tarts
And I not making hay,
For I loved too much; by such and such
Is happiness thrown away.
I gave he the gifts of the mind.
I gave he the secret sign
That’s known to all the artists who have
Known true gods of sound and time.
With word and tint I never did not stint.
I gave he reams of poems to say
With his own dark hair and his own name there
Like the clouds over fields of may.
On a quiet street where old ghosts meet,
I see he walking now away from me,
So hurriedly. my reason must allow,
For I have wooed, not as I should
A creature made of clay.
When the angel woos the clay, hell lose
His wings at the dawn of the day.
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