Falling for the obvious

Makoto Fujimura

Monday August 26th, 2024

As this winter turns to spring, I notice the change in light. From the dull sun of winter to the brightness of a sun speeding towards us. The sharper the light the clearer the seduction of foreground, of the centre. Depth and periphery lost in the glare of what's starkly right in front of me. Something to be wary of, this noticing only the surface of things. Falling for the obvious. Assuming what I see is all there is. When it's safer to assume that nothing is as it appears. The outer only as mirage.

It's easy to be beguiled by the familiar, the bright and shiny things, the immediate, the material, the easy answer. And miss entirely the nuance, the relationships, and any subtle changing. But what of the edges, the shadows, the interconnections. How can I explore the unseen for different possibilities and insights. How can I build my capacity to peer around the corner, over the horizon. How can I train my eye for serendipity, to catch the nascent in the corner of my eye.

Like a photographer, can I train myself to see what the negative reveals. Like an artist, can I train myself to paint the spaces between. Like a musician, can I train myself to play the silences between the notes. Like a navigator, can I train myself to see over the horizon.

Or do I simply have to build my capacities to quietly observe, patient, receptive. Losing myself in Nature perhaps on a long ambiguous wander. Gently setting myself and my pre-conceptions aside. Waiting, like Beethoven perhaps for the music to simply arrive, and write it down.