This white house, a blank canvas edged with trees, visible from my back garden, always seems bright with possibilities to me. I don’t know who lives there, and it’s certainly not a president, but the wall has never succumbed to graffiti (quite an achievement round here) and it has never looked grubby, or at least, not in the bright sunshine. I have a photographer friend, Dianne, who takes pictures of a white house in farmland, it is like a muse to her, and she takes so many varied shots of it, surrounded by autumn foliage, lost in snow, baking in the golden glow of hayfields on a summer’s day, and they are all beautiful.
Light and framing are crucial in photography, and in all our acts of seeing too. White is so good at reflecting different moods and colours directed at it, and maybe for that reason it bends to the will of the artist or the photographer that little bit more easily than darker colours which absorb the light. Perhaps the same might be said of us, that whatever colour we might be (of skin or politics) the better we reflect God, the more potential we have to shine for him, rather than lapsing into self-absorbment.
Photo and text © Keren Dibbens-Wyatt 2017