It came to me yesterday afternoon. Lookout Circle. Finally, I'd discovered what to call this space. Lookout Circle is the name of the road I lived on as a child and it struck me as a perfect address for a girl who grew up to be on the lookout.
Lookout, we yell, you're about to step in a puddle.
Lookout, we warn, you can't be sure what that boy is really up to.
Lookout has its warning side.
But it also suggests there's something to see, something to watch for, more than what you expect.
Lookout for the woodpecker on the maple.
Lookout when you drive past Ninth Street and you'll see a surprising lavender door on the side of a demolished warehouse.
Lookout has its invitational side.
This is the drive that helps me see more, to discover details, to pay attention.
About Me
- Diana Greene
- I began my career as a journalist. Reporting taught me about listening, observation, distillation, clarity. Then I began making up stories. I exchanged the literal for the literary and truth took a backseat. I earned an MFA in fiction. The same evolution has occurred in photography. I began as a documentarian, a truth finder, and then, after about five years, I started creating photographs based on stories, poems, moods and metaphors. The wordless language of art has opened up a new way of telling stories. I never could master Italian, but learning to speak in photographs has expanded my ability to communicate.