Photography and Poetry as Rust

I stop the car, let it idle, and look around me. Not sure where one parks at the edge of a rubbish heap, I edge the vehicle into what I think will be a safe corner. Wellingtons go onto the feet. Gloves protect the hands. I make my way into the garbage. I saw what they dumped yesterday. That skip was full of beauty and it all landed here. I make my way through litter bags and foul smelling objects that have been dumped since the skip lost its contents.

I throw aside, look down, step to the right, toss to the left, pick up, turn over, until I find the layer that I had my eye on. I saw them tear down the house. I saw the objects pile up over days. It was the blue bowl that had caught my attention. It had a warm yellow edge with a tinge of rust. That was the one and I wasn’t leaving until I held it in my hands.

My eyes see the powder blue. The gloves scrape against the rusty, granular rim. This is why I came. Back in the car, I free my fingers and touch the metal giving way to oxygen and transformation.

PhotoPlay

Photography is like rust. It cracks open objects, reacting with its environment to create a different substance. Photographic subjects undergo a kind of oxidation when the photographer brings forth a new level of character and beauty. You need a fresh pair of eyes to really observe this.

And so, photography acts as a catalyst, changing both the creator and the viewer in the process.

Random Acts of Poetry

Poetry is also a catalyst. At Tweetspeak, we've been exploring the question, "What is Poetry?" and we've got some intriguing answers. Poetry is a net, a bowl, a loaf of bread. No one has declared that poetry is rust, but you could in a poem of your own. Post it with your photographs of rust, or post it alone. Say that poetry is rust, or say it is oxygen, or even chrome polish. We're game for where your imagination might take you.

Image by Darwin Bell. Used with permission. Sourced via Flickr. Post by Claire Burge.