January 2, 2017: Weaving Light
I tramped through the forest on Hornby Island, grateful to be weighed down by twenty-five pounds of digital camera gear rather than twenty-five canisters of analog film. Though giddy at the prospect of recording hours of footage on a thumbnail sized card, I still felt driven to make critical choices about which images to harvest. Why film a spider web as the obvious product of an insect’s handiwork when a slight twist of the focal ring can transmute that same web into an undulating veil of light? Literally illustrating Madigan’s song lyrics with readily identifiable images would unnecessarily turn the music inwards upon itself. On the other hand, forsaking representation for abstractions transforms the forest into a habitat of metaphors where more expansive feelings and ideas can take root. I am not producing a parade of pretty pictures. I am cultivating an ephemeral field of colorful cadences, shimmering idiosyncrasies, and dark impressions as a broader stage for Madigan’s traumatic, transcendent, and redemptive music. This is the web I weave.