Miroir De Scey, France by Charlie Waite
Limited Edition Signed Landscape Print
I left the large city of Besancon on the greyest of days. I had not thought that France could have days like this. I always attribute France with many wonderful things but a grey day like the one I was greeted with that morning struck me as very un French. How could I have known that within an hour or so I would be making an image that would evoke the home I have lived in for the past twenty years.
Water again. Perhaps we are drawn to be near water because it seems to have no ownership; we feel able to claim it for the time that we are there as truly ours. At the seaside, the area of sea that we hang in is for that time our patch, own very own. Water is too quicksilver in nature for anyone to claim territorial rights to it. Riparian ownership for the fisherman is not the same thing.
I had wondered on this day whether I might be subject once again to light malaise and was preparing to head north back up through five hundred miles of this fine country to Le Havre and home.
Then the gift was suddenly there at the side of the road; there was the little Miroir de Scey glimpsed for a millisecond through thick bushes. In France it is still possible to travel along a very minor road almost entirely alone feeling sometimes that a wave of acknowledgement would be appropriate to an oncoming car. It was easy to stop, and investigate the place that I had seen for such a short time. I scrambled down a muddy bank and there was this secret place. The image had been made already. It was a pre natal affair, I knew the sex of the child, her name and her personality now I just had to get all of her onto a piece of film. It is so often like that. The trial and error approach stayed with me for many years, never feeling confident enough to know whether what I saw would make an image or not. Would I ever become discerning and learn to tell the difference? Surely we must be able to define our objective before embarking on the production.
With this intimate and gentle scene I hoped that that what I saw and felt would be what I would see and feel again when I saw the resulting image of this modest little mill. Thankfully, at least for me, this was to be the case. Miroir de Scey was an apparition at the time and wonderfully, it appeared to me once again.
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