will take you just one mile… but a mile of runway will take you anywhere. I was struck by this quote on one of the social media platforms by an unknown author. It was a “travel quote” but it struck a chord with me and made me wonder: Is a mile, just a mile? Does how that mile is journeyed make a difference? Obviously, it makes a difference per the (unknown) author of the quote.
The image below (borrowed from Internet) is by the legendary Ansel Adams taken in 1948 of Sand Dunes in Death Valley.
The above is an example of a mile of runway. It takes you to places you want to go. It is all about dunes. An excerpt from the Ansel Adams Gallery on his dunes photographs: The unparalleled clarity and crispness of these images is not merely a testament to Adams’ skill as a photographer. It’s also exemplary of the photographic philosophy of Group f/64, a group of Bay Area photographers in the 1930s that included Ansel, as well as his lifelong friends and frequent collaborators Edward and Brett Weston and Imogene Cunningham, among others. In the Group’s manifesto, they defined photography as an art form characterized by “simple and direct presentation through purely photographic methods.” At the time, this would have been immediately recognizable as a bold challenge to Pictorialism, the dominant school of thought, which sought to create images more akin to impressionist paintings than documentary photographs.” Yet, when it comes to Ansel’s arresting photographs of sand dunes, they have an otherworldly, dreamlike quality that is unmistakably surreal. It’s ironic, then, that all this clarity—this realness—would end up creating a surreal effect.
The one below is taken by yours truly, and Ansel Adams IT AIN’T. Period.
The above is an example of a mile of highway. It is just a mile. I am beginning to wonder if we can ever have “absolutes” in our lives. Will everything be within a context? What about one’s beliefs? We have a saying back home that loosely translates to “it is not holy water, unless poured into a conch” implying otherwise it is just water. On the other hand, according to great bard, a rose by another name still smells the same. So, between these two orthogonal positions, what is the truth? What is the reality? Can a seemingly innocuous travel cliche be so layered in complexity? It seems to me that I need to live for what makes me happy, especially at this stage of my life, where time for redemptions for past mistakes is slipping away fast, if not late already and if possible, not to let any disappointments affect me, and worse yet, haunt me.
