A few of the images in my recent exhibit have drawn some attention, so I am putting some notes in here about the ones that have aroused the most interest.
The image of the girl in the white dress, the house, and the water has a long story to go with it. Maybe that is what gives it the charm that it has, because people immediately want to know more about it. A photographer named Jerry Uelsmann has taken to replying about the meaning of his composite images that they are "pre-verbal". And that's not just a cop-out answer -- he (and I) work with images until they "feel" right. We can't really say why, because of the fact that the message is a spark in the mind from a place where language does not begin to have any meaning.

Anyhow, the story of the Windsor House image begins with a drive down US Hwy 84 from Waco to McGregor, Texas. The house can be seen from the road, even though it is probably more than a mile from it. The house, built in a German style that dates from the 19th century is the remnant of an old farm. I call it Windsor House because the nearest named road is Windsor Road. The house just seems to call out to people. I was drawn to it for years before I stopped to photograph it. On the days that I was tempted to approach the house on foot (by jumping the fence), I heard the words of my mentor Charles Evans: "Never cross a fence line." Odd advice from a man who sneaks into national park land in the middle of the night to avoid the camping fees. The words of advice kept me from trespassing. So, one day I made the time and got up the nerve to find the individual who owned the land on which the house rests to ask permission to photograph it. I always feel odd at the time of asking, but I felt that the request would not come as a surprise to the man, who must have similar inquiries all of the time. I guessed at the house in which the owner might live, and found him on the first try. He looked to be in his late 50s or so, and he didn't seem at all surprised at my request, but told me that he leased the land to a farmer who had changed the lock on the gate that led to the house, and that if I would come back in a week or two he would have the key and allow me onto the land. So, I returned a week later. When I did, I asked the man if he has many requests such as mine to shoot the house. He said that I was one of the first to ever ask, and that he's accustomed to intercepting trespassers in transit from the highway to the old house. He'd load them into the back of his old farm pickup, escort them back to the road and tell them to never come back. I'd brought a model and a white dress with me for the photo. The light was really unkind on that day. There was not a cloud in the sky, the sun was almost directly overhead, and the farmer had harvested the tall vegetation that stretched out before the house. I was counting my blessings: that I had a camera, a model and had gained access to this coveted location. So, I went to work and made a number of exposures, which, when developed were completely unremarkable. The house lost its imposing character on close inspection. It seemed rather impish in comparison to the visage from the road. I stored the negatives away and shook my head ever time I passed the house. It wasn't until I had a command of a high resolution film scanner and Adobe Photoshop that I was able to bring the character of the house into relief through the addition of a "perfect" sky, a tempestuous sea and a second story (the house was only a single-story structure).

Years later, I was riding a shuttle van from D/FW Airport to Waco when the driver collected a couple from another terminal, bound for Waco. Before leaving the airport, the driver asked the older couple details about where to drop them off.
"Windsor Road -- off of '84, right?"
"That's right."
It was the couple who owned the old house! I turned around and asked them if they had an old house on their property. Before I got the question out, the man interrupted with, "Yes, we do. Would you like to take a picture of it?" His tone was not enthusiastic, at all. I told him that I already had done, with his permission. When I offered to bring them a print, his wife told me to "take my time" in delivering it. It seems that they were weary of visitors to their patch of farmland, already.
The image has become a favorite, and stands a good chance of being regarded as one of my signature photographs. Those whose attention is drawn by it cannot help but struggle with the attempt to communicate the range of meanings that the image stirs in them. For that reason, the image of the girl, the white dress, the house, the water and the perfect sky may be a defining one for me. I could ramble on about the thoughts that the image provokes in my own mind, but I have work to do! I encourage you to ponder on the image, as other have in order to see if the image lives up to the "pre-verbal" definition that I have given it.