It was the first time I’ve seen water on the Salar de Uyuni.
Vera, Tommy, Pete and James on the Salar. Just a few inches of water, but more than enough to allow for perfect reflections in the evening light.
Always choosing to go in the dry season, there are never any guarantees that the season will be exact. In a way, I take delight when the weather is not predictable - whether it’s due to El Niño or something else, temperatures fluctuate, things change, nothing is ever quite the same.
And so, this year, we found a small patch - maybe 5km square, on the Salar which still had water left over from the wet season. Around two to three inches deep. Just enough to allow for beautiful reflections, and not too much to cause waves that would disrupt the calm of infinity when one walked around the location.
I rather enjoyed feeling as though I was walking on water.
I also rather enjoyed studying the smooth gradations in the sky and water, and the enormity of space. So much so, that I found the set of images I edited this year, and indeed what I initially chose to shoot in Bolivia - were more towards my own preferences of ‘less structure, more space for tones to stretch out with gradual variance’.
I originally thought I did photography for the experiences it brings. But as much as I think that is true, it’s not entirely accurate. I think I’m drawn to colour, light and the gradation of time. Not so much the actual subjects of the photos, but the quality of light, and how the tones slowly morph and gradate from one luminosity to another.
When one strips the more conventional subjects out of the scene that we (mistakenly) assume to be the reason for our photographs, we find gradation of colour and luminosity is really at the heart of our picture making.
