Lizzie's Lightbox

I'm Lizzie, and this space is my lightbox, where I'll be collecting thoughts and reflections as I put my photographs up and hold light to them - and this is one way I can think to address something that's been bothering me. The problem is a dual one of speed and quantity. So much, so quickly, but just because we can, doesn't mean we should.

I'm talking about the acceleration of ideas through use of groovy digital gadgets. They can be super helpful purely because they're so desirable and make interesting stuff more accessible, but these little accessories also threaten to dull our critical appraisal: acknowledge sound and vision, collect it obsessively, but don't hang about to enjoy it because this big old freight train of 'more is better' isn't stopping.

Just because I have a million playlists doesn't mean my appreciation of music has matured (I perhaps listen to 20% of what's on the pod), and just because I like my beautiful little camera that talks to my slinky laptop picture library doesn't mean my work as a photographer is becoming more articulate.

I'm amazed by potential. I'm stifled by choice. I want to have a look at what's there and reflect on why it matters to me.




{today's soundtrack: Plaid - Clockwork}

Waves and Breakers

"deep calls to deep in the roar of your waterfalls;
all your waves and breakers have swept over me."

When you sit on a surfboard and face massive waves stacking up overhead, you have three options:

First, get up and ride. Try not to sound too pleased with yourself as you go.

Second, dive streamlined through the base of the wave so the powerful wash doesn't knuckle you into submission. Enjoy feeling the irresistable, persistent force blast over your body rather than feel upset you didn't catch the wave - there'll be another one right behind it.

Third, panic and get knuckled into submission, lose which way is up, register thinking you'll never breathe air again, surface just in time to see the next wave wall up, take a fast, deep breath in, duck, knuckle, repeat cycle until set has passed, wash up to shore and wonder why the lifeguards didn't come to your rescue.

I've tried all three and learned this: when faced by life's massive breakers either ride them well or take responsibility for whatever else happens next. Either way, try not to panic. Inside every huge wave is a little tiny one turning over its regular rhythm.