The Golden Hour

The word photography is derived from the greek ‘photos’ and ‘graphos’ – the drawing of light. It is the most beautifully romantic description of an art form that works to encapsulate this world in the most natural or the most abstract way. Drawing light like brushstrokes, or an internal absorption of energy, of life…, an awakening. The concepts of contrast; of lightfall and shade as the day passes; and scientific optical manipulation to create different perceptions and evoke an array of emotions from the same subject, are a psychology unto itself.

Perception is a remarkable entity. There is no right or wrong amongst us, on the basis of the lenses through which we choose to view this world, this life, this existence. And there is no flaw in lack of consistency of perception as we travel through life. The fastidiousness by which we precision our perceptions improves, and appreciation of the tweaks and fine-tuning of the process enhance with the evolution of memory and mind.

We all latch on most strongly to perceptions evoking powerful emotional responses. The concept of drawing light, the ancient greek origin and all connotations that ancient Greece holds - driven by the gods – brings out a passion, a will, a connection with the earth, not the world, but its supernatural elements that before were taken for granted, acknowledged as merely existing not awed at for their very existence. The day has two golden hours, knowing that, can awaken a seeking…and finding of the rest of the golden light we should want to know.

There are plenty of golden hours in life. Good conversation does not necessarily flow relentlessly. It is a smile that lingers once you have left, reminiscing not the words that were spoken, but the experience, the feeling, the enjoyment of having shared those words. It is a warmth from a tungsten lamp, that created mood heedless of surrounding atmosphere.

Finding your passion – not a passion, but your passion, the light within you that ignites and makes you glow is a spiritual entity. It is like being filled with white light, not fluorescent but pure. Waking to start your day with purpose, overstaying at a scene you hadn’t anticipated would affect you, a sudden awakening, as though you were semi-comatose and have just discovered consciousness, a golden hour of white light.

Feeling any emotion but with an absolute heightened awareness that you are experiencing an emotion is candescent. To experience that emotion called love, for all it brings with it, angst, hope, enlightenment is an hour we have all definitely experienced, sadly sometimes with eyes wide shut. For love, has no requisition that it will be reciprocated. It is not false because it did not fade away merely because it wasn’t returned, leaving angst and yearning in its midst. Love is an entity unto itself, making no apologies for its ways, its existence, or the choices we make about it. It doesn’t come when we call, or subside when we cannot accept or commit, it can dazzle or glow gently, spark and crack or hiss and simmer – and we can ignore it or worship it, but that will not change its ways.

The golden hours are not few or far between. They are magical for they require no effort to seek, rather a will to find. There is a sunrise and a sunset everyday. And everyday there is a dawn, and a twilight to follow.