They call digital images virtual images. They call rainbows virtual images. I suppose that’s because neither is located in a specific point in space. Why not make one of the other?
At first I thought this subject would be too clichéd to be able to produce anything substantial with it. But, I’d found in the past that it wasn’t the subject itself that determined whether the result would become a cliché; it was the perspective you took towards the subject that made all the difference. Finding that perspective took some time.
Your position in space determines whether and where you will see a rainbow. If you move, it will move. A rainbow doesn’t last long. But then, what does?
I can’t help thinking that at the ends of the spectrum there must certainly be a set of frequencies below and above the thresholds of what we can see. When I see a rainbow, I’m reminded of my own limitations.
There are all manner of iridescent atmospheric phenomena: rainbows, moonbows, fogbows, sundogs, moondogs, coronas, and more. Whenever I see one, my attention fixes on these ephemeral presences. Seeing a rainbow is a joyous moment. Over the years I’ve seen countless numbers of these effects. Often I didn’t have a camera handy or couldn’t get to one quickly enough. At other times, the environment in which I saw them was less than picturesque. Even though these moments weren’t picture perfect, they’re still etched into my memory. When does a collection of fragments serve better than the whole? When does fiction capture the essence of a moment better than fact?
In Refraction ii, there are two sets of arcs that indicate the presence of unseen forces: the fogbow and the ripples in the water. They’re both traces in the material world of larger forces. Space, time, light, vibration: These are fundamental themes in my work. They all converge in this image.