I took this photo at the Milwaukee Museum of Art. While in Wisconsin on a press check for the magazine I work for, I had time to venture out into the cold unknown with a colleague. We managed to fit in a museum trip.
I love this photo, and I can't exactly say why. At first glance, it is boring. It lacks color and subject. But I love the perspective. I wanted to take this photo because it reminds me of the way we can all feel sometimes. Bleak. Cold. Alone. Colorless. Frigid.
But oddly enough, this photo makes me happy.
It makes me happy because I am able to immediately fill in the blank space with the people and moments I hold dear. Laying on the couch with Ryan and Fin, all three of us cuddled together. I replace the stark bench in the photo with my own Kodak moment. Or leaping on haybales at the farm--an image that leaps into the snowy bank. Or even the time when my brother, sister, and I were all stung by men'o'war at the beach, instead of the dismal lake view out the wintry window. The tree, full of life and growth, that still stands in my back yard at home--not the puny, hibernating mini-trunks showcased here.
This photo makes me happy because I do not feel frigid, alone, or bleak. I feel lively, warm, smiled upon, loved. It is because of my amazing family, friends, Ryan--these are the people who fill an otherwise colorless world with every swatch imaginable.
And funny, too, that I went up there to do a color check. Because walking outside, everything was the same color. On the page, the reds and yellows and blues would jump out at me. Then my eyes would have an enormous break when I walked outside to see the snow-covered ground.
And at the museum, which is starkly white and shaped like a whale, the walls were smattered with a wonderful palette of bright colors. Each color arranged in such a pleasing way that it made even the bleakness outside beautiful.
I love this photo because it is exactly opposite of how I feel about my life. My life feels so colorful, so full of life, so infinitely bright and sunny.
