I may say that my style of photography, at least as it applies to taking photos of birds, is… inspiration. I want to say everything and nothing at the same time. I want to tell a story, but I also want the viewer to make up a story of what they see (or feel). I like to think about the interaction between my half sentences and the complete statements made through other people’s imagination, all made up possible by my photos. For sure, I don’t want to show the whole picture and a period at the end.
I love it when my photos are used as a guide to a story, even if it was not my original story. Like for example, this Painted Bunting that pretty much lives every summer in my backyard. He is alone (is he?), waiting for his mate (Painted Buntings get together when young and stay together for a long time). So, every time I see him, I am actually looking for her. Where is she? Is he looking for her? Is she looking for him? She is not bright and colorful like the male, but rather a not-too-fancy bottle-green back with a cream body. Now, when you see them together you cannot help but to appreciate Nature and its calm beauty.
What is he doing? What is he thinking? Is he waiting for something to happen? Is he meditating about something he just saw? Is he scared? Is he happy? What is the story?
It took me a while to spot him on top of the tree, and when I saw him, I quickly exposed, focused, and clicked. And clicked again, paying attention to see if the female was around. I would love to take a photo of both together, there, on top of the tree. However, she did not come. This sent the story in a million directions, any of which is perfectly valid.
I want to believe that at the end of the day the story ends with them getting together to rest in their nest, somewhere around my house. And he may not even remember having been on top of the tree.
Taken at Burnet, Texas