Posted on June 5, 2020
There are the things that are out in the open, and there are the things that are hidden. The real world has more to do with what is hidden.
— Saul Leiter
It’s been a bleak time. Last summer, my dad died. Set against the backdrop of the grander world stage – a stage in flames – it is a small grief, maybe. But it is my grief. I have written something about him and when I have found some courage, I will post it, but for now: small things. Beacuse the small things reveal the big things; the sum of their parts. The things that give us meaning. I picked up a camera for the first time in a long, long time last week. It was my dad’s camera. I felt it in my hands. Solid. Weighty. I thought about all the times he had picked it up. I imagined his big hands wrapped around it. His eye, seeking out moments. Sweet bursts of joy.
It was dawn. I was looking for some light.
© Emily Hughes, 2020
Category: a small world, scrapbook Tagged: art, black and white, creative writing, dawn, Emily Hughes, environment, finding light, grief, macro, macro photography, nature, photography, reflections, saul leiter, wild flowers
Posted on January 3, 2018
Winter’s Reverie I
Winter’s Reverie II
One from the archives.
© Emily Hughes, 2015
Category: finished works, scapelands Tagged: art, blue, colour, Emily Hughes, flight, ice, January, landscape, layers, nature, photography, reflections, seagulls, seasons, sky, water, winter, winter's reverie
Posted on July 7, 2015
My life is going through a lot of changes at the moment. These are changes which I have instigated. Things are shifting. It is exciting, but extremely unsettling, and there are times when I question my motives for stirring up the waters. I question why I am constantly compelled to confront what is real and safe and solid. Sometimes it helps me to express these feelings with my images and sometimes I write words too, which I cannot call as substantial as poetry or prose, but…. well, they are just something.
In these moments, when the frayed ends of a tightly wound skein begin to unravel. When the warm, solid earth beneath my feet seems to shift. When I look up, and even the clear blue sky wavers and shimmers, teasing like a mirage in the temperate desert heat. Watery things are playful things; beguiling and dissembling. They steal the light and scatter it joyfully like pebbles, skimming this way and that. Dodging and darting here and there.
Impossible to gather in my arms.
Every time I look, things are different… as if my eyes are shifting. A pair of aqueous orbs.
Every time, it is new.
Don’t confess your secrets to those watery things. They will suck them in greedily and and then spit them out like polished cherry stones.
© images and words by Emily Hughes, 2015
Category: creative writing, scapelands, scrapbook Tagged: bokeh, composite images, creative writing, duck, family, gold, nature, photography, reflections, summer, trees, water
Posted on January 1, 2015
When I push the shutter release, I close my eyes.
(Annelies Strba, from Shades of Time)
I have done a lot of reflecting during this holiday period. I’ve read a lot of blog posts and facebook updates about fresh starts and being thankful and realising what’s important, and all that. I’m not knocking any of it. It’s all good and true, of course. It’s been refreshing, and liberating, to have some time to just be without the pressures of work and the day-to-day (of course I know this is only a temporary state, so I’m bracing myself for the full onslaught which comes with immersing myself back into the deep end of life). One thing which has struck me head on, though, throughout all the great stuff (and there is lots of great stuff!) is just how busy 2014 has been. And not entirely in a good way. I always like being busy. I need busy. But I have learned it is definitely not good to busy yourself to the point that you find yourself collapsing in a crumpled heap over the finish line on your hands and knees with a white flag between your teeth. It ends, usually, in tears, frustration and wounds, the kind of which you can’t slap a plaster on; the kind which take much time and effort to heal. It benefits no-one in the end, least of all you.
So at the start of this year. This shiny, brand spanking new clean sheet of a year, I am going to gift myself some much needed advice.
Just give yourself a moment.
Close your eyes
Happy New Year to all, and I wish you a peaceful, fulfilling and inspiring year ahead.
© images and words Emily Hughes, 2015
Category: a small world, scrapbook Tagged: 2015, Annalies Strba, barringtonia racemosa, breathe, colour, creativity, inspiration, macro photography, nature, new year, photography, powder puff flower, reflections, resolutions
Posted on May 16, 2012
I’ve been sick all week with a horrid virus so haven’t had the energy to even get dressed let alone think about blogging. Still, I do have some new photos to post. Before I got ill we went out for a walk in the woods on Saturday. It was so green and lush and moist (on account of all the rain we have been having). Totally magical.
I focused in on interesting leaves, played around a bit with exposure and focus, and reflections. I quite like the results, I think. They are a bit dreamy. Very me, anyway!
© Emily Hughes and searchingtosee, 2012
Category: Uncategorized Tagged: bokeh, Clouds, leaves, nature, photography, reflections, sunflare, trees, woods