something is lost  something is found

These images represent "the everything" of nature, the brilliance, and the mystery.   This is the continuation of my theme from last year's portfolio, "there is more here than you can see."  

  There is a transcendence in the cycle of nature.  There is birth and death.  From pollination to germinate where the seed breaks to sprout to the pure, effortless perfection of these blooming images.  

In these photographic  images, there is a singularity in their beauty.  Being wonderful does not hold back the dark loneliness nor the impending end of the season. With all the exuberance of the new bloom, it does stand alone.  

The waterlilies in this series, cast deep shadows in the endless sunlight of August.  There is a reflection in the glassy surface of the water.  Sometimes the reflection holds the color in a dimmed mirroring.   Below the surface, there are further images when viewed closer. The mysterious waterlilies produce magnificent, erotic and otherworldly, underwater ballets, unfolding in full sun.  

    This is a continuation of my exploration through photography of the desire and disappointments in the quest for images that express what is beyond words. To be a photographer and to be in the world means to strive, to search and find, to have, and to hold and then to lose.

 In 2017  I was part of a show with a portfolio titled : There is more here than you can see. The images are a mirror of my emotional state at that time. In this portfolio I find the equivalent of my world within, expressed through images of contrasting light and dark.

       In this portfolio, I am exploring how photography is an expression of my connection between my internal and external life.  In the fall of 2016  death came swift and unexpected to someone who defined my adult life. Just as swiftly my world tilted. I was enveloped in grief and began the dark journey of sadness and anger.  I fought back the inertia with a decision was to get up and go out. I went into the night and let the landscape be the canvas of my mourning process. This project was a victory of sorts. These images made me feel that magical, photographic fantasy that I could stop time and hold a moment.  This work brought me relief in the transformation of turning deep grieving to the active form of the creative pursuit. 

 "There is more here than you can see" a titled I swiped from a Duane Michals images, was work done at night, a time with many things covered by darkness.  

These photos are on view on page: 2017 Light Room Member Show

In "Lukoil," a single car fuels up in a dark corner of the road. 

  In  "88 Grocery", a nighttime bodega in the only, open, commercial enterprise is lit by a garish yellow storefront neon. 

In "Pawn Shop"  the past is alive, yes, people do still pawn things, and there is a working public phone.  

In "View #1, I researched and photographed the Hunter Moon, last seen in the fall months of my birth. This rising moon was a proper sign to me that something gone for decades, returns.  

In "Stairwell,"  an empty stairwell leads to an empty parking lot. The empty stairwell reflects the grand, otherwise, unseen sunset.

For information contact me at argentiile@comcast.net.