I like to wander. I like to walk around my neighbourhood (and others) with my camera in hand, with my view tuned to the small details that normally get skipped over in the interest of crossing the street without being hit by a bus, or pondering other complexities of daily life and how to manouevre through them.
It’s kind of meditative, because while my eyes are searching out interesting compositions, odd juxtapositions of colour or texture or other compelling subjects, my brain just sort of follows along for the ride. The usual background chatter fades away as my attention is taken over by just seeing, and that means that there’s mental space for different questions or insights to pop in, spurred by the things I see.
Recently, there were these:
These roses are all on one plant, I assume the different colours indicate the ages of the blossoms. There’s a particular aspect to ikebana which incorporates the way in which the components age, and these roses made me think of that, and the way things age and how we do (and don’t) pay attention to that process.
This is one of my favourite bits of local… graffiti? street art? I don’t know why it’s there, low on an unobtrusive planter at an unassuming minor intersection, but it makes me imagine hundreds of years ago when this city was wilderness, and black bears would have been a respected part of the natural environment. I love that it’s walking away (towards the nearby Christie Pits Park), and that the footprints are on the sidewalk rather than the vertical surface. But I think I love most of all that it’s placed without context or explanation.
Now, I didn’t say my wanderings resulted in brilliant insights, but these days any thoughts that depart from my daily fretting are welcome.
