Textured Moments

Do you ever wonder what is real in this life?

Here we all are, running amuck - doing our thing. Dashing here; pausing there.  Maybe. A never ending pursuit of... what? Surely something.

What makes us stop? What is that thing that not only suddenly grabs our attention; but holds it?

 Little moments can have a feeling and a texture that is very real.   ~ Ralph Fiennes

 Just as texture can add depth and variety to a piece of Art,  so our lives can also benefit from a bit texture.     But, how do we do that?

Well, as I discovered while learning to add texture to my photographs, it's all about LAYERS. 

Texture adds a quality of realism to Art.    It draws the eye of the viewer towards something special.  Bokeh dots are diamonds that sparkle.   Various brush strokes convey a feeling of depth, or movement, even feeling.    The key... is to be subtle.    Draw the eye, and let them fill in the rest.

We may not always know what it is we are seeing, but we know it speaks to us. We FEEL something. The art has stirred something within us, and we respond. 

What an interesting concept when applied to our own lives, when we consider how we draw others towards us, and how they respond in turn.    We all have our various "layers" to our personalities.   Some may seem quite contradictory - even confusing to those who know us.   But no one is ever just one person.    Some of us have that subtle thing down to a science, and we remain mostly a mystery those who know us.   But.. the layers are still there, even if they are not obvious.  

So, what is that Texture... that real quality, that draws others to us? Is it simply our feelings calling out to one another.   They certainly add texture to our lives.   Without them, we'd be rather robotic in our responses.   How would we prescribe meaning to anything, if we could not Feel?  

If one was to peel my skin back rather like an onion; what would they find?  I would hope that whether my brush strokes were subtle, or brash, that one would discover at the core there existed real elements of truth - of caring; and that was the special thing that reached out and grabbed your heart.

Clear or blurry.  Dark or light.   Bright or dull. My work, my life - would speak Truth.

That even the small moments, when I take care to be present in them, are no less real than the bigger ones.     And perhaps it is even those small things that can transform a life, adding texture where nothing but stale air once existed.

I want to stop running.  Stop searching.   Do you? I bet if we did, we would then see the reality - that truth is in the texture of ordinary things.

And I rather think that is what gives them the power to be extraordinary.