I spend every night pondering very small things. My focus narrows to the tiniest moments that give me clarity on the biggest picture I can imagine: why I am here at all. I don't know why it is the little details that mean the most to me, but it has always been so. It's when I'm quietest, stillest, looking at the the most mundane sights that I find the purest peace. Dappled sunlight on green plants, a sleeping cat, individual grains of rice, these are all more interesting to me than, say, an action movie (most of which I dislike greatly) or a raucous street festival. As my night winds down, I reflect on the little stories, trying to find the one that explains my mood, or provides a metaphor for where I am at that moment. I am happiest when my subjects are small, insignificant, trivial. I don't want to try to change the world all at once. All I want to do is make one person relax and think about right now. And then do it again. And again.
I have always loved taking extreme closeup photographs. One day I will have a better camera, with fancier lenses, but for now I'm doing the best I can with a cell phone. So far, I'm managing to take more than enough that make me happy. As it is, I find myself each evening with my glasses pushed up into my hair, phone mere inches from my nose, poring over minute changes between the two or three copies I have of each picture. Which one is perfectly in focus? Which one is centered just how I want it? Where are the cat's eyes focused? Is there a bug on a leaf of that flower? Is my reflection in the window behind my subject? There are days I wish I could put three or four of the same subject, from slightly different views, to see whether any of you have favorites that you would identify, and tell me why you like one more than another. Or are they all the same to the people who are reading me, and it's just me sweating the minor details? I looked at three pictures of calibrachoa in the standing pallet garden today, trying to choose just one. I deleted one, deciding that the other done in the same angle was better. I compared the remaining two, and decided that to me, one told a story, and one was like looking into a face. How can I choose between them? I think today is the day I show the whole picture.
I have been trying to clear out what is saved up on my DVR, and while I sat and ruminated on the most insignificant of details, I replayed the first installment of the Cosmos reboot. How is it that contemplation of the infinite seemed the right backdrop for my contemplation of the minute? It worked for me. It really did. By making myself feel infinitely small in the universe, I think I made myself feel infinitely connected to it all, and justified to myself that my own tiny piece of the world is no smaller than the greatest king's share. The only difference is that it's my journey. I own it. And I love every detail of it.
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