Black & White

 

I’m not sure what it is but there is just something about the absence of color.  I can be standing in an art gallery and automatically be drawn to a black and white photograph.  There seems to be a realness to it, an authentic quality that is missing when color is present.

There may be more magic within a colorful image, and it could even be more pleasing to the eye, yet it’s missing the spark of capture.  That exact moment when a tiny bit of the human soul seeps onto the film.  And even if the photograph isn’t a portrait, it could be an old barn, a modicum of the photographer can be seen there within the age and in the struggle of the barn to remain standing.

Sometimes, if you stand looking at it long enough, in just the right light, you’ll begin to comprehend what the photographer went through to capture the image.  You’ll feel the warm summer breeze and smell the pungent aromas of farm life and may even question your current shoe choice, as he did.