These are the lights that hang in the foyer at the Clover Center for Arts and Spirituality in Rochester, NY. I attended a concert there recently and was fascinated by this lovely array of hanging globes. I took more than a dozen photos of those lights. It was days later, though, that I realized the lights had even more meaning than what I saw in them that night.
One reason I love these lights is that they offer such purity of form (the sphere) and of color (mostly pure white, with just a touch of the four main colors for contrast). The other reason is that they seem to defy gravity. The lights themselves make it hard to see, to notice, the cables they hang from.
When I was sorting through the photos a few days later, I learned something even more amazing about these lovely lights: My husband, who was at the concert with me, hadn’t noticed them at all. The room was nicely lit, and that was enough for him. He never looked up.
How much time do we spend looking around and looking down, but not looking up? Have you noticed that when action heroes are moving cautiously, guns or wands at the ready, into some unfamiliar setting where the bad guys lurk, they never look up? Part of that is related to the limited field of view of the camera (and has become enshrined as a TV trope), but it’s also a real thing. People walk around with their heads down. Looking at their phones, at their feet, at the ground. It’s like gravity pulls down on more than our hair and our skin and various increasingly non-perky parts of our anatomy. It pulls down on our minds, dragging on our attention.
Let’s all make a pledge to look up more. Enjoy the sky. Watch the trees whip around when the wind is blowing. Notice the lines of the roofs on the houses in your neighborhood. Defy gravity.
There’s a whole world up there that we are missing.
In response to the WordPress photo challenge: Weight(less)