Rivulets of silver rain reflect along the wall of glass

Hopeful and blue

Individual drops of life-igniting pearls

One, then two and soon a thousand heart beats pound against the roof in a confluence of water force

They pour together into pools and puddles and overflowing banks

Becoming streams and rivers flowing deep into the roots of a waking thirsty world

Serendipity? A master plan?

I dwell on this for a second or two

At least until the sun bursts through and brings the change

A new light bends in disconcerting shapes like a kaleidoscope of pent up winter energy

Reflecting greens and pinks and buds exploding out beyond my window pane

Drinking it all in and opening

Trunks and branches, stems and petals, reaching up in gasps and swirls

All new

All fresh

As spring unfurls


PhotoLyrics - Poetry by Mark Safran - Photograph by Doré Vorum


Frigid Weather

Oh the photographs I would capture on a recent trip to Brooklyn: the river, bridges, and architecture, danced in my head. Alas, my hopes dropped as quickly as the temperature the day I visited. I knew it was time to head inside when my finger could no longer press the shutter, frost nipped. What to do? I went to the Brooklyn Museum which offered warmth, incredible art and an amazing glass ceiling. Lying in the middle of the atrium floor, I took countless photographs of the ceiling including the image above.

Not what I expected or hoped for, but by allowing myself to see new possibilities, something different.




re·flec·tion, noun. The throwing back by a body or surface of light, heat, or sound without absorbing it. "the reflection of light"

When I share my reflection photographs, folks are curious about how I saw the scene.  It is something I find difficult to explain because it is not what I saw, but a feeling that drew me in.  It is the feelings of wonderment, lightness, happiness, curiosity and serendipity that I try to capture with my camera.

Reflections: San Antonio Riverwalk 5. Minor adjustments to exposure, but pretty much what came out of my camera.

One image at a time

Like a fine wine sometimes an image or the photographer, that would be me, needs to wait before it can be processed. As an example, recently I made the photograph above yet it was captured in 2011. Did I not take the time to really look at each thumbnail and see the potential? Have the toolbox or skills to make the image in my minds eye? I don't know the answer, but what I do know is, going forward I'm going to slow down and look, really look at my images one at a time.


©dorevorum,photography14-12 NYC-88-Edit-2.jpg

On a bitterly cold day along the Hudson River in New York City, crowds gathered by the railing to await the sunset. The incoming storm clouds that filled the sky created a spectacular view that did not disappoint the shivering onlookers. When the sun had finally descended below the horizon, people scattered in search of warmth. It was then that the real show began for those of us lucky enough to still be around for it. Everything mixed together with the twilight sky. As I was shooting the scene before me, I noticed a hint of color out of the corner of my eye and I looked behind seeing a magical scene: the sky, harbor and river being reflected in a piece of old wavy window glass. I quickly pressed the shutter and captured the image above.

Look up, down and all around, the images surround you.