...of new life on the day my father died
July 27, 2006 [d-SLR]
(click in the image for a larger version)
When photography is an integral part of your life, as it is in my life, you make images all the time. On "normal" days (whatever that means), happy days and sad days. Not every image you make may be "good" or significant, but the act of looking through the viewfinder and seeing becomes a process that is part of the fabric of who you are. This is certainly the case with me. I make images to see and remember the world around me, and also to better understand myself. Some of my images are "finished" the moment my finger presses the shutter button, while others are more like the notes that a writer might make; upon revisiting those visual notes, they might become something more, a finished image or even a part of a series, or they may remain as stray notations of things seen and moments recorded.
This photograph shows an engine vent under the wing of a vintage DC-3 airplane. I had seen this old, slightly decrepit plane parked by the side of a hangar next to the freeway in California's dry central valley several times in the past two months as I drove back and forth to my brother's house to help care for my father, who was slowly dying of cancer. Every time I drove by I made a mental note of the location in the hope that I would be able to find the time to stop and photograph it one day. But there was never any time; I was always rushing back and forth between my house and my brother's house, or airports or other workshop locations where I was teaching.
I finally found the time to photograph it one afternoon in late July. My father had died early that morning in the still hours of the night, a blessfully peaceful and quiet passing that was a profound experience to witness. On my drive home that hot summer afternoon, I stopped here to lose myself in the camera and the viewfinder, sorrow pushed aside for a short while in the act of seeing and making images, that familiar ritual that is so much a part of my life. And there under the wing, in the vent of one of the engines of the old plane, I found this bird's nest with five little eggs. On any day, it would have been a beautiful thing to find, but on that day, when I had watched my father take his last breath not 12 hours before, it was an especially welcome and poignant sight.
lovely shot! the colors and contrast are great!
Posted by: mikhail | 11 August 2006 at 01:22 PM
Sean, I'm so sorry for your loss.
This is a lovely image. Full of hope in the midst of tarnish.
Posted by: Susan B. | 13 August 2006 at 09:47 AM
Sean, I can't imagine what a loss of a parent is like, I am truly sorry for your loss. Thankfully, both of my parents are healthy but both are in their 70's so I know it's coming.
Hold on to the memories of the time you had with your father and he'll live in your heart forever.
Posted by: Richard Cooke | 15 August 2006 at 10:37 AM
Susan and Richard...many thanks to you both for your thoughts and condolences.--Sean
Posted by: Sean | 16 August 2006 at 03:26 PM
this is incredible, really inspirational.
Posted by: andrew | 13 May 2007 at 01:23 PM
I will recommend not to wait until you earn enough money to order all you need! You should just get the loans or just short term loan and feel yourself free
Posted by: RosaDorothy | 13 July 2010 at 08:01 AM