The flight of time

This is the last week of my fellowship at the University of Colorado at Boulder. As I age, time accelerates. I have felt this acceleration acutely in the past few weeks. As a function of a human life, this is a natural outcome. The more days we live, the smaller each day gets in the scheme of our whole existence. I have a specific, early memory, of how much slower time was when my life was so much shorter. When I was 5 years old, lying in the grass and watching an ant colony, a few hours of careful observation represented what a few days does now, as a proportion of my total life. Yesterday, our apple tree was in full bloom, and when I went outside at sunrise to pick up the paper, the sight of it froze me. Beauty that intense pulls me into the moment and out of the constant monologue in my head. Last night, three inches of wet snow fell, and the apple tree now is a doubly intense vision of ephemera. Today, the snow will melt, and tomorrow, the blossoms will fall.

Silke held up one of my jackets to make a background, and I took a photo. The woman holding the jacket is as much a part of the image as the flowers, calling out to bees.

Traveler's Eye Workshops: A mobile school for photographers

The fortified town of Orvieto occupies a tower of volcanic tufa on the road between Rome and Florence. Within the walls of the old city, no cars are allowed. On a pedestal help up to the sky, the city moves at a slower pace than much of the rest of motorized, industrialized Italy. My friend and colleague Richard Sennott proposed that we start a photo workshop in the town, using the San Lodovico convent as a base. The medieval cloister has frescoes thought to be painted by Michelangelo, the food is traditional Umbrian peasant fare, the rooms simple and clean. So, Traveler's Eye Workshops was born. We're running our first trip June 13, with two more to follow in September. The September trips are filling up fast.