The Art of Visuals: Patches of Sunlight
Sunlight drifted like cobwebs in the air, filtering through the green of living things. It turned the forest floor into a patchwork of golden light, setting the ferns aglow.
The light tangled in her hair like a living thing, gilding the fiery red with motes of gold and streaks of sunset. There was a feeling in the air, the forest had a deep sense of knowing many things, and when she looked at me, there was Fae in her eyes.
I have always been drawn to the wild, to the strange things that can go on there, so when I asked Olivia to meet up to shoot some photos, that was all I had in mind.
Whenever I read fantasy, or venture off into the woods, my mind comes alive with thoughts of supernatural creatures and weirdness in the world. After viewing the work of artists such as Mike Hurn (@themikehurn) and Ryan Kell (@seekaxiom), I wanted to embrace the creepy as well.
Patches of Sunlight
We met in the woods behind her house, and that late in the evening, sunlight was slanting irregularly through the trees. Puzzle pieces of soft, yellow and gold light kissed the ground. The patches of light were ever changing, growing in size before disappearing a minute later.
Chasing the light, we changed locations after only a few minutes, forever following the warm glow. It was a beautiful place, a serene place, and set the mood perfectly.
All I could think of was Felurian in The Name of the Wind, by Patrick Rothfuss. I wanted to capture that mystical yet oddly creepy quality in my images, to let it inspire me to further create, to go home and write about what I had seen.
Shooting against the light, the gold intertwined with the red of her hair, burning it, softening it, molding around the shape of her. Those images always call out to me, where sunlight streaks and flares across the lens, filling your eyes with soft light. It almost overpowers you, beautiful and captivating and full of allure.
As Olivia lay in the ferns, the light fell slowly upon her face, shifting and dancing as the sun moved lower behind the trees. It lit the subject in changing patterns, mischievous and wonderful.
Moments
Moments like that call out to me as if from a dream. They fill me with an otherworldly sense that everything is as it should be.
When the light is just so, dancing like Fae nymphs through the wood, and the ferns disappear into the distance like mountain layers, everything is mysterious and beautiful.
I live for moments like these, let them draw the creativity from my bones and fill my body with it. I go home and create, editing images, writing stories, dreaming of more days in the forest where the golden hour light changes the world into something new, something inspiring.
I keep on chasing sunlight, moving between patches of it, always seeking something more, always seeking myself.