Play

This morning there is play. It happens to be the cats. We have a lovely selection of cats. Each one a wonder, so expressive and true. When I took this photograph of Paula – yes, she is wearing a wooden mask from Mexico made for the Dia de Los Muertos – it felt like play. Therefore it was play. And I get that when I look at it. I also love the long view of her arm – we each think we said that they were simian and we were as playful with the word as anything else.

In the big IF of life you never know where the next play will come, what you will make of it, how it will fit into what’s already there/here. For years I took these photos for the sheer joy of being able to do them. I got into every position I could imagine to get the play of levels and layers.

Sometimes it would take me years to see what was contained in a photo. I feel that way about the cats. They remind me to watch, listen, dig in. Nothing gets in their way for long. I can become so careful. I can forget what’s important. But not when I’m photographing. Not when I’m watching the cats. Not when I’m getting out of the way.

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