Insinuations and connotations: the cycle of imagery

As a fairly conservative person, I look at the first image and I'm instantly uncomfortable. There's an intimacy and rawness that seems far too private to be displayed to the public much less enlarged to that size. Yet, that's the fascinating thing about framing - it can completely change the context. With such a close up shot, the image clearly depicts bubbles on a body, but which part? The question itself insinuates other connotations. Yet, that's simply my arm - much more innocent than the picture would suggest. Despite taking the picture myself and knowing very logically what the image depicts, even my own mind jumps in a split second to assumptions, shock, judgement, and more. I remember during the Vancouver riots, a photograph blew up on the internet.

(Rich Lam/Getty images)

It seemed to be evidence of a couple kissing on the ground amidst the chaos surrounding them - they seemed at peace and in their own moment. Yet, from a different angle, the story told another story. In truth, the girl had fallen down during the stampede and was overwhelmed and crying. Her boyfriend was attempting to calm her down the best he could. This still fascinates me because it goes to show how there's a continuing cycle of how life and art affect one another. The public saw that photo, and perhaps you see my photo above, and we all make assumptions based on...imagery we have seen before. It's so interesting how over time images, colors, words, sounds, and so much more can collectively impact all of our thoughts.

In terms of photography, I wasn't willing to risk damaging my DSLR, so I used my iPhone 5 and the Camera+ app to take these two shots (and edit!). I'm constantly amazed at the power of our cell phones - I can't believe the amount of detail that can be captured.

Reflections and hidden spaces

One of the things I love about La Jolla is how diverse the different beaches are - La Jolla Shores has wide open sand and relatively calm waters, Marine Street's sand is soft but there's that crazy dip where you plunge into the ocean, Windansea has a crazy rock terrain and incredible scenery when you turn left and right, and the Cove has all these different inlets with their own mini beaches too. For the longest time, I've loved the tide pools at Marine Street and the Cove - for those of you unfamiliar, tide pools form when high tide or waves fill the crevices in rock formations with seawater. When the water pulls back, these little separate habitats live the hidden spaces. I have fond memories of poking my fingers into anemones (Finding Nemo, anyone?) and having it close onto your finger. It was really amazing getting the chance to venture out (terrified I was going to drop my camera in one of the puddles) and photograph the area for the first time on my own. At first I tried to photograph into the water, attempting to capture the life in the puddles. I became far more interested in the strong contrasts, geometrical repetitions, and reflections in the water and shifted gears partway through. The image above came out as my favorite - similar to my light, form & abstraction project in school, I loved how when the context is removed, the photograph can take on such a different meaning. In reality, it's just one of the smaller and shallower tide pools - but to the eye, it could be a lake at a distance, or a shot in a forest. The lights and darks evoke a sense of emotion - it's fleeting because of the light, yet tranquil and calm due to the water.