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Curtis Hendricks

DamnPhotoArtist

Photo Art* & Small Literature**
* Computer-based art that uses a photograph as a base
** Short Prose

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I Remember Summer

1/21/2019

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It's not the cold that gets me - it's not the snow or ice either. Someone wise who has since fallen into disgrace (a fate that may be as human an experience as death, and perhaps not all that different) once pointed out that Winter is just a matter of dressing properly. Bitter cold actually has certain advantages when taking the dogs out to do their business - no need to worry about where you step.

No, it's the gloom. Unrelenting winter gloom.

The sun shown brightly Sunday morning for a few hours - before that it had been nine days since it was not shrouded by clouds. By Noon it had already greyed-over, and would stay that way through the night, thus preventing any sighting of the Wolf Moon. I spent the afternoon watching football. I never spend the afternoon watching football. I became disillusioned with the sport after all the domestic violence, assault and other violent crimes came to light and, besides, American football is mostly violence and committee meetings. (Can a world in which the author of those words becomes aligned with liberal thought last long?) But somehow the idea of sitting under a blanket in a dark room watching thugs and buffoons beat themselves to a pulp seemed like a pleasant activity.

This morning there is something slightly brighter in the sky - I'm not entirely sure it's actually the sun yet, but it's an improvement. Autumn brings brilliant colors and crisp air, followed by Thanksgiving and the Holidays and there's so much going on. Then along comes January. By now, for a number of reasons, I haven't gotten out much with the cameras and my bank of photographic captures dwindles to images from months ago, but lurking within are treasures! Images green and warm and sundrenched - the humid dawn filtering over the horizon to the thriving plants on the patio, where there's a garden pool with a fountain and fat, singing birds dancing around feeders stuffed with good things to eat. And in just about three weeks, my friends, pitches and catchers report. The world will fill with play. Summer is coming.
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    Curtis Hendricks

    All my life I have had to learn to do things differently. To see the world differently.

    Art attracted me from the beginning. Almost every home in the tiny farming village where I grew up had DaVinci’s ‘Last Supper’ on the wall. I would come across modern abstract art in magazines and be absolutely fascinated by the colors and techniques.

    But there were no artists in my village. No one understood what modern art was. Or why it was. But there was an appreciation for photography.

    I began shooting with a 1960 model Agfa rangefinder fixed-lens 35mm camera and learned to use darkroom techniques to finish my work. Graduating to a single lens reflex camera I worked primarily with Kodachrome. Digital photography opened a new world. The computer became the artboard I never had; the darkroom I could never afford. I discovered there would never be a camera or a lens that could capture what I saw in my head – that, I had to learn to create on my own.

    I use the photograph the same way a painter uses a charcoal sketch – as a starting place. I squeeze out the unseen hiding between the pixels; the angels, the demons of my own imagination.

    ​Light. Color. Darkness. Perspective. Introversion. Mystery. Love.

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