Philip Westfall Photography: Whidbey Island, WA

Boxing Day (December 26th), 2011. A notable amount of time has passed since then, but I don't not think that it diminishes the story I have to show.
Over and over I read photographers saying that they take the pictures to tell a story- an interesting concept. With stories composed mostly of pictures, the audience (that did not see the time and place) does see and experience pieces of the occurrence, but the pictures cannot fully bring to mind what has happened. The audience can only know of the time and place what is shown and told; the rest is kept for the characters of the story to know and be reminded of.
Despite this locking from memories, the audience still is kept interested. The technical skill of the photographer has a significant role in this, but what draws me to my favorite photographers' (here and here) stories is not the creation of a mathematically perfect photos. It's more a story that makes the draw. not THE story that actually happened -instead, a story composed by the picture of my own experiences and make believes. A slightly warm, moist forest with heavy moss and glowing with a greenish gold light as the sun is setting outside the trees. Or, a great field of golden-yellow, un-trimmed grass and with a great dark cloud coming. The rain is already sprinkling and the sun is giving its last say before the dark rain. And I want to run through the rain, see the suns last light for for the day, and watch the procession of the cloud.
I don't know how you see a photo, or whether, consciously or unconsciously, feeling is stirred, if you just want to see a well balanced photo, or some other reason. However, I want to tell you a story. You can't know my story, but I hope your story is shown clearly.
--I can't quite tell what it is like for me to find something old that my family built years ago, but maybe I can take you to your grandparents' attic where you found the kerosene lamp next to the old letter still with an envelope.