Yesterday we took the family on a special trip to Situlpauwa Temple, perched high in the hills 15 km inside the borders of Yala National Park. I’ve written about it before, so won’t repeat myself here. For me, this journey was a bit of a photographic mission - previous visits had always been a race against time, the sunset, the closing of the park gates, and for once, I wanted to ensure there was enough time to meander slowly, and taking all the pictures I wanted. There is something about taking a photograph. Something I didn’t know before these travels. A way in which it allows me to see differently - somehow through this lens, the breathtaking eros and sensuality of shape and grain and angle, of light and shadow, all conspire to reveal Life in the inanimate, Motion in the inert. The slow dance between that which grows and that which seems timelessly unchanging, and where these are met by camera and human eye, something else happens. Alchemy. At least this is how it feels, seems, appears to me, and this is what fuels my obsession with roots and rocks. I am seduced.
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December 2016
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