Chasing light is Chasing Life

Rocio Graham
5 days ago
3 min read

As a photographer, I consider myself a light-worker.

I work to find the balance between light and the absence of it. My camera is a tool to capture, control, and manipulate the quality of light I need to craft my images. Shutter speed, ISO, and aperture have the sole purpose of controlling light.

Light is electromagnetic radiation from the sun. Only a small portion of light can be seen with the naked eye. As a child, I loved staring up at the sun because I was mesmerized by having something so potent above our heads each day (now I have cornea scarring from that practice). As a little girl I often talked to the sun. I knew this source of light and warmth was something beyond my comprehension. My connection to the sun has not faded. I often imagine what it would be like to float up to the sky to get closer to this ultimate source of light.

Photographers are light chasers. We are attracted to it like moths. We often discuss the “chasing of light.” We wake up at 3 a.m. just to photograph the first glimpses of light caressing a mountain. We sacrifice sleep, chasing night sky and aurora borealis images. We endure body pain for the opportunity to create images that show light in unique ways.

The most impressive photographic works are crafted with specific attention to the balance of light and darkness. It is the tension created with light that invites us to get closer to the subject and enter a space created by the photographer, an alchemy of light and matter.

Through photography we conjure life that manifests through light. We cannot talk about life without talking about light. They are interconnected. Light interacting with matter gave shape to the universe as we know it. Light and warmth from the Sun allowed life on Earth to emerge. Life-sustaining processes such as photosynthesis centre on the transmutation and impact of light.

As a photographer and practitioner of Buddhism and Curanderismo (a Mesoamerican spiritual practice), I additionally occupy myself with philosophical questions about the meaning of life. The theme of light is prominent in these teachings and philosophies.

We often hear idioms such as “seeking the light,” “enlightened,” and “made of light” juxtaposed with “a shot in the dark,” “dark ages,” “living in darkness,” and “dark clouds.” Often these sayings are a codification of ancestral human knowledge and wisdom transmitted in mundane expressions.

When we say things like “we are in a dark place” and “shot in the dark,” we are expressing a lack of clarity or vision, the unknown we face. “Seeing the light” or “being enlightened” refers to a state of consciousness, a state of knowing that allows us to see what there is, to understand truth; it is clarity embodied.

Perhaps for us as photographers, the attraction to working with light stems from a desire to chase life and meaning. I wonder if within the secret parts of photographers live philosophers that seek deeper explanations. Does what we photograph matter? Do we matter? What should matter?

I imagine many can relate to the experience of being stopped in your tracks while meandering in a forest and being overwhelmed by the beauty of sun beams peeking through tree branches. The ecstasy we feel when we observe light reflected on a river shimmering like dancing diamonds. Those are moments that incite us to capture them with our cameras. We distill those fleeting profound experiences and make them into documents.

Perhaps we create images because we want to create meaning and share our human experiences in the most intimate way. Perhaps it is all in the pursuit of connection and assurance that we are not alone; that life matters, that we matter. Light is a conduit.

As photographers, when we chase light we chase life. Light is life.

This feature originally appeared in THE LIGHT ISSUE.

Available in print or to read as a digital replica on Press Reader.