Minimalism, I heard once, is confirmation in art that there doesn’t have to be “something” to look at in a photograph or a painting. I don’t remember who said it, but I agree. It is also said that Minimalism is a reaction to Abstract Expressionism. However that may be, I happen to like both for somewhat the same reasons that I enjoy sitting on a bench facing a broad meadow with nothing going on in it... and I also like “seeing” something that involves me emotionally in nothing more than the designs and shapes of the lights laid out below me when I look at a city at night from the air. I don’t need to know quite literally what I am seeing.

Looking over my friend Terry’s shoulder as we talked this morning, I saw beyond the bit of window in my field of vision a wall... just that. A wall that had stains on it which reminded me of Japanese prints of ocean waves. I’m guessing the stains were made by water spraying or splashing onto cement blocks, or perhaps they were made by some chemical or mineral seeping out of the blocks. Knowing what caused the patterns is not important and was not relevant to my liking what I saw.

I went outside with my camera, sat on the sidewalk, and got my pictures for the day. While I was there a young man of perhaps twenty came to where I was sitting and asked if I needed help. I showed him the camera, reached and shook hands with him, and thanked him for being the kind of person who goes to help when he sees an old man on the ground. It was a good moment for both of us.