North America Local Custom Tips by tmmcgrath

ping...ping...ping.......... ...........ECHOES...the Floyd.........

Overhead the albatross
Hangs motionless upon the air
And deep beneath the rolling waves
In labyrinths of coral caves
An echo of a distant time
Comes willowing across the sand
And everything is green and submarine.

And no one called us to the land
And no one knows the where's or why's.
Something stirs and something tries
Starts to climb toward the light.

Strangers passing in the street
By chance two separate glances meet
And I am you and what I see is me.
And do I take you by the hand
And lead you through the land
And help me understand
The best I can.

And no one called us to the land
And no one crosses there alive.
No one speaks and no one tries
No one flies around the sun....

Almost everyday you fall
Upon my waking eyes,
Inviting and inciting me
To rise.
And through the window in the wall
Come streaming in on sunlight wings
A million bright ambassadors of morning.

And no one sings me lulabyes
And no one makes me close my eyes
So I throw the windows wide
And call to you across the sky....

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from the book The Photographer' Bible by Bruce Pinkard
a section named 'Image Management

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we are dominated by visual concepts *

faced with visual stimuli we seek pattern *

we then seek concepts*

we are primarily aware of change*

movement is change *

contrast is change *

asymmetry is change *

variable intensity is change *

pattern is imposed by the viewer, then grouped together *

we seek evidence of pattern *

constancy is sought by identifying the dominant stimuli *

constancy and rhythm encourage fantasy and imagination *

perceptions are organized into figure and ground *

ground is neutral, figure is not *

one is separated from the other by edge *

these processes are reflex, unconscious and subjective *

too much security, too little mystery, no introspection, generates boredom *

we try to understand the universal before the particular *

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Memory

You have to begin to lose your memory, if only in bits and pieces, to realize that memory is what makes our
lives. Life without memory is no life at all, just as an intelligence without the possibility of expression is not
really an intelligence. Our memory is our coherence, our reason, our feeling, even our action. Without it, we
are nothing.

Luis Buñuel (1900-1983), Spanish filmmaker. My Last Sigh, ch. 1 (1983)

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