WHOSE WOODS THESE ARE

When I first shared the image below with a good friend of mine, she said it reminded her of the Robert Frost poem, Stopping By Woods On a Snowy Evening . I hadn't read it since college, so I returned to it from an entirely new place, with a much deeper understanding of who I was as an artist and how I am in the world. And in diving more deeply into its words, its cadence, its symbolic register, I realized that this poem isn't only resonant with this one image, but describes my role behind the camera and as a sensitive, quiet, and reverential wanderer with a camera. Finding the places where people aren't but have been, and pondering their marks, their absence, and the presence in that absence. These images affect me like the sound of the sweep of easy wind and downy flake and evoke how I feel in the world, and how I imagine Robert Frost felt stopping by woods.