I call it 'art'

I call it 'art', Kyoto, Japan, April 2005, Pentax Optio 555, Exposure 1/250 sec @ f5.0, ISO 64, no flash © Steven Crisp

It shades me from the sun, keeps me cool at mid-day. It is a parasol, so what?

Only this. It is so much more than a 'parasol'. It lets me open my eyes, when they would otherwise be blinded by the light. And what do I see? The expansive universe, radiating outward from the fertile void. All lines interconnected, and through their interaction and overlap, beautiful radiant colors emerge. I see wholeness, unity, the one with the many. I see acceptance and the recognition that every line has an integral part to play, and without them all, the structure could not exist. I see opening and closing, night and day, fluid motion and the flow. I see the kaleidoscope of nature. I see evolution. I see structure and hard surfaces, and I see gossamer overlaid on it all. I see the gentleness and tenderness of the surface, and yet appreciate its integrity and its strength. I see light and I see dark, and I know they are the same.

And I see more than this. I see an elderly woman, gathering bamboo in the country, with the sun filtering through the green leafed forest, strong with vertical lines. And I see an elderly gentleman, gathering rice in the paddy that will serve as his food and as the paper, and a mirror to his soul. I see the clouds that brought the rain, and the sun that helped both grow. I see their grandchild, who visits on occasion, and learns a bit about their history, and their trade. I see their own parents. And I see who they were before they were born.

Right there -- you can see it too, can you not? And I can see the camera, moving around underneath its shade, looking for the right angle to capture all of this, and to expose it for you. One moment. One snapshop of the flow, a part of the flow. Keep looking. You will see it too.