Always get me down. Or so the song goes.
And you really can’t call what’s happening outside right now “rain”. I mean, for Southern Californians, this misty drizzle (think: one pump from the Aqua Net aerosol can spread out over one hour across the living room) is welcome. But even this amount of “rain” pretty much causes people to lose their goddamned minds. Especially if they are behind the wheel of a car.
I guess I’m no different in welcoming the rain and losing my mind. But for different reasons. I like the heavy downpours: the thunder and lightning, flooding the gutters, raincoats and umbrellas are useless, kind of rain. I am, after all, a Midwestern gal down to my core.
A few years back, LACMA (Los Angeles County Museum of Art) had an exhibit called The Rain Room. It was simply amazing!
The deal was: a square room with a heavy downpour in the center. There was just enough of a dry perimeter to walk around it and stay dry. Once you stepped into the center of the room, sensors kept track of the dimensions of your body, parting the rain so you were surrounded by falling water, but stayed completely dry. Talk about dreamy! The only downside to that whole experience is that we had to leave. I hope the exhibit returns. I’ll gladly purchase as many tickets as they would allow.
But back to me losing my mind, though that last part is already pretty illustrative, huh?
My son and partner-in-crime in The Rain Room, LACMA
Well, I don’t exactly, but if we have a heavy downpour, you can be sure the windows are open so I can hear it. And smell it. And feel it. There is a distinct experience to rain. And if you are a Midwest transplant to SoCal like me, you search for every opportunity to be in, around, near, or immersed in rain. I’d knock my Busia over if it meant only one of us could get out to play in it. (Perhaps this isn’t a good gauge of my insanity since she wasn’t a nice woman…but you catch my drift.)
So far, in my adventures with a camera, I have tried to capture subject matter that I adore. I like macro shots of flowers, I sit patiently on my balcony to catch the hummingbirds, I try landscapes (but haven’t had much success with them unless they involve a sunset), and I’m playing with Still Life, now. But to capture a real, honest to goodness, rain shower? Thunderstorm? I’d be in heaven. And I’d gladly get soaked to the bone for that perfect shot.
After all I am a
PLUVIOPHILE (n.)
A lover of rain; someone who finds joy and peace of mind during rainy days
Moments of Clarity 