Its a Clouded Rainy Cold Day in November Wintertime. Reflection in broken mirror, which was as waste dumped at the feet of a tree, Glass Covered with beautiful silvery coloured raindrops, they organised at random their own layout on the surface of the mirror. Location Empty street with barren trees and empty lifeless anonymous houses in East Amsterdam.

focus on triangles Something shaped like a triangular geometric figure

Natural light comes in one form or the other from the sun, which here in this photograph is totally absent, in the background we see a delightful Dutch Softened Grey Sky, famous for the fact that it creates a state of innocent calm. Lets put it that way, how depressing it can be, that’s another angle, a different story. In this image the light is hard and brutal, which I like. Freezing a moment in time, in the magical click of a fingertip, (often you’re left with a shot that doesn’t quite cut it) that’s what makes photography fascinating to me, Finding the leading lines, the framing and the lightning, many more elements are important to be considered, but in essence it’s often the instant moment of feeling, action, timing, without thinking that in my opinion – I am sure the professionals will agree – defines a great compelling photograph.

I wanted an aggressive strange mood in the photograph, because for me it was a bad day. I wanted to capture it by facing into the broken mirror directly. The cracks in the glass are appealing, they show the Fractal Geometry of Nature. And cracks are usually hinting somehow the opening of a new situation, like a door that leads to the next stage of our lives. Cracks can be inviting, same time they have the effect on us of facing fears. You rather want some doors to stay closed, afraid to walk trough and being confronted with something not nice.

Lets get Back to the Background, the branches of the tree, the way they are spread out, as I see it with my Clear Artist Eye, it looks like a painting by Pollock, I seriously dislike all his work, of all the bullshit artists that walked the avenues of Modern Art I dislike his drippings and droppings the most. By the way, I wonder: Was Pollock colourblind? Who cares? Again, lets go Back to the photograph. more interesting, look at the raindrops, silver of light, they are like tears coming from heaven: Mother earth is crying. Excuse for the corny metaphor.