a life well lived

I shot this photo about a week ago. It was an overcast but warm day. I was just fooling around and caught several images that I didn't think much of at the time. When I got home and brought them up on my monitor, my first thought was, "Huh. That's kinda sad and depressing." I don't remember feeling this way at the time of shooting this photo though. Then I remembered an article I recently read by Tracey Clark over at Shutter Sisters.

"Over the weekend, during a low moment, I stepped outside for a little fresh-air therapy when, right near my front door, these tender leaves caught my eye. Tiny droplets from the previous night's rain were catching the only glimmer of light offered by the morning diffused with weather. The leaves looked so delicate and sweet. It wasn't until I pulled the images up on my monitor that I noticed a sadness, as the frail foliage seemed to be weighed down with each drop, weary with the burden. I felt through the image what I felt myself.

Does all this mean we do truly create photographs that mirror the state we're in? Do we shoot, saddled with our sorrow, or jubilant with joy, allowing our intimate vulnerabilities to be exposed through our work? Or, do we instead shoot through our exhaustion and despite our weariness in order to seek some kind of clarity powerful enough to lift us from our fog? Perhaps it's all dependent on what we need more at the moment we click - to express ourselves or to save ourselves. To realize that photography, this gift we have for interpreting others, can be just as much a tool for interpreting ourselves."

My goodness, I found this so fascinating. Makes me wonder. How about you? Does art imitate life?