Dreams are Not-so Black and White

I have come to find that a good night's sleep has a direct correlation to the birth of some of my more creative ideas.  Within a level of unconsciousness, I drift into dreams - some inspire, and some don’t. Bless Emily for enduring the wild nights of my sleep cycles.  I've been greeted many a mornings, not with a, "Good morning," but, "Do you know what you did last night?"  This is the most recent account:

About 3:00am, Emily woke up to me tapping her on the shoulder.  Frantic and worried something had happened to Elle, she looks over at me.  With her blurry vision, she was met with a very serious face, and with my finger pointed right at her, I said, “Remember, only you can prevent forest fires.”  I then gave her the cheesiest grin I could muster while still sleeping at three o’clock in the morning, rolled over, and continued to sleep.  Emily, angry and not impressed with my Smoky the Bear impersonation, she vowed to recount the tale to me the next morning. 

Even though I didn’t remember anything about Smoky the Bear of forest fires, as much I wish I had, I awoke with the idea of a collection of black and white photography.  I have been a bit of a photographer, dabbling in it here and there, taking a class when time permitted. As a teenager, my sister and her friend would occasionally ask me to take pictures of them. I don’t know about you, but there is nothing more fun than staging an impromptu photo-shoot.

 I have always had a deep love for black and white photography.  Most of the art I have collected has been an assortment of different photographers' black and white photos.  The inspired thought that arose with me that morning was the idea of a photography collection capturing the shadows of Richmond; playing with the light, with the city skyline, and the back alleys. Here are a few from the collection so far: