Brrr! Put on your cozy earmuffs and get ready to shiver—we’re going on an itsy-bitsy expedition. No need to worry about icebergs or polar bears, because they don’t fit inside an infinitesimal reality. Shrink real low and let’s explore a frosty forest.
Tiny, cold and delicate—frost sprouts like frigid saplings. A glass window becomes a field of minuscule trees and translucent leaves.
A transitory existence: banished by warmth or a plastic scraper.
…who wants to put their life on hold and admire frost? We have shit to do, right? Stuff the key in the ignition and let the car breathe its balmy breath. Don’t worry. Windshield wipers get rid of the leftovers. The plastic scraper reaches all the right places, too.
The mosaic above this sentence is a composite of seven frames, but they don’t quite fit together. The stitched photograph provides a larger context, though. Each image is a fragment that can’t encapsulate the grander reality, and each frame is about the size of your pinky nail.
This is not my first time photographing frost, but If you think it’s easy photographing the cold stuff, well…go ahead and pat yourself on the back! Because you’re wrong. The previous photographs were less sharp, and the depth was also shallow. Some of the detail near the photographic frames may appear to be blurry—that’s the reason why the previous photographs were less sharp—the 50mm secondary macro lens wasn’t properly aligned, and that caused the corners not to be in focus.
Truth be told: some of the corners are still a little blurry. Damn it.
The jagged shards look like a frosty forest. Branches grow along the glassy field, just like the limbs of a pine tree. You can see the tree-like structures toward the upper left part of the frame. “Branches” converge, and then individual shards eventually interlock. Tiny pieces of ice which create larger pieces of ice.
…where do we draw the line between frost and ice? Afterall—when does frost cease being frost? When it starts to lose its distinct patterns? Or is it ice all the way down?
The next time you scrape the cold stuff off your car windows—remember to appreciate the frosted forest you chopped down…
…if you’re not too much in a hurry.