A photo of an old barn can change you
Some photographs do us the favor of stopping us in a place. Look into this old barn. You couldn’t stand in front of it long enough in real life. Your legs would start to hurt, your mind would walk away, you would have places to go.
It isn’t that your life is too hurried or that you can’t appreciate beauty. The barn barely exists. The human function has bled away, yet the barn hasn’t returned to nature. The barn is in between, not an artifact, not a ruin, a structure with no place that will crumble eventually under the strain if its own weight.
The photograph transform the experiences. By removing the myriad dimensions of life — the bigger context, the passage of time, the things we have to do — the photo reduces our experience of the barn to two dimensions. Those dimensions are like a ticket into our human conscious. The image evokes, calls, recalibrates.
I can look at this photo for minutes at a time and all that happens is that I experience change inside myself. So can you.