[Back from the Lab: The Fog Series]
Over the break, I finally finished a 36-exposure roll of slide film (Provia 100F). I was trying to snap off as many pictures as possible because I had forgotten exactly what was on the roll in the first place. The same strip had been sitting in my camera for months.
When I got the positive images back, to my disappointment, many of the early ones were underexposed. I had not taken the time to readjust my settings for each scene I framed. Despite my luck with the previous rolls, I learned that slide film is indeed not flexible when it comes to exposure settings.
Ironically, the only images that turned out were the ones I was capturing partly for the sake of seeing its predecessors.
Whether it was because I had not been in Redmond for a while, or because the occurrence was something new, I noticed that the suburb had a thick overbearing fog. But, I loved the way it looked particularly when it sat among the trees.
I like how the fog distinguishes the different layers of a landscape. It's easy to forget depth when looking at a flat image. But, the fog makes me notice the layers of a scene and reminds me that the world is not one-dimensional.
I recently went to the Getty, and while there I looked at early 20th century European paintings housed in their permanent collection. I found that the paintings that drew me in this time were landscapes, particularly ones with fog or haziness in the distance or on the sea or among the trees. Maybe it's because I was more aware of haziness after my visit to Redmond. Or maybe it's because landscapes with fog is all over Pinterest right now. Whether present in other people's works or my own photography, the haze has captured my attention.