Color!

One day while Lydia was here, we were talking in the car a bit, and something came up which I've thought about many times. It's about color. What is it about Africa that makes it pop so much? Ok, so I admit, strange things happen here all the time. At least they seem strange to us - foreign. Still... something is different here aside from just the unusual sights. As Lydia said "Africa has so much color."

Now don't get me wrong, I'm not saying America is colorless. I'm all about the purple mountains majesty and amber waves of grain! I love scenes of all different kinds, and there's always something to appreciate, no matter where you are. I love taking pictures in a big city, as a change of pace... like these, which I took in San Francisco a couple years ago.

That's a lot of fun. I had a blast just shooting these through the window as we drove through the city. But really, cities are (overall) rather bland... colorfully speaking. Tanzania, though (together with many other third-world countries) is bursting with color. Not coordinated colors, or carefully thought-out color schemes; but bright, crazy conglomerations of vivid primary colors. So bright that sometimes it almost hurts your eyes! But I like it. It's cheerful. Not that I would ever decorate my house in bright red, green, blue and yellow all thrown together... I'm a more neutral tones type person myself. But all the crazy colors are kinda cool in their own way... :)

Yep. Color. And lots of it. :)
I like it.

All photos ©Julia Jensen

Just see

Some days, I say to myself "the light is perfect." And yes, sometimes the light is perfect - golden, soft, brilliant, colorful... a photographer's best friend. But more often than not, it's the light of our own eyes that makes things pop out. It's up to me to make the light good.

How often do I forget and slip into blindness? Blundering about in the dark, never noticing the things that are right in front of my face? Too often. Much, much too often.

And yet...

There are times when I cannot stop seeing.

It's the beauty of bumping along a muddy path up the mountain in the middle of Africa. Yeah, I bumped my head on the roof a couple times. No, it wasn't the most comfortable. But why would I notice bumps when we pass a little boy no older than 2, covered head to toe in dirt, waving and smiling like he was the happiest creature on earth?

It's a concrete block building without any electricity. Wooden benches on a dirty, muddy concrete floor. The goat tied right outside the door. Light and people filtering in - silhouettes in the doorway of brethren coming to worship our God. Voices - good and not so good - all raised in praise to Him. My brother taking the hand of "blind man Moses" and guiding it to the plate of bread and to the fruit of the vine. The simple blessing of just having enough grape [flavored] juice to go around. The soft curve of dark black eyelashes on a young girl's brown face. Handshakes. Bumping back down the mountain. The congestion of the Maasai market. People. People. People. Red and purple pieces of cloth wrapped around thin frames. Piles of old shoes and clothes. Vegetables, goats, cows, chickens. And more people. People going about their business. Souls still in bodies. Souls who need Him but don't even know it.

Rain on the windshield. Green, wet trees. Dust settling and turning to mud. Making a dash for the house. Hugging dad and brother goodbye as they leave for Kenya. Being aware of the fragility of life and making the most of it.

Life. Sometimes it's raw. Sometimes it's ugly. But oh... it's beautiful too. I open my eyes and look around. Really see. Sometimes seeing hurts. Sometimes things are so clear and bright that they cut the heart like a knife. But see anyway. May I never truly forget to make the light good and to just...
see.

Your eye is the lamp of your body.
When your eye is healthy, your whole body is full of light,
but when it is bad, your body is full of darkness.
Luke 11:34