Pyrophilia

I have always loved fire. As descendant of a long line of pyromaniacs, it’s really no surprise that I would share my family’s fixation. I remember stories of the grandfather I never knew and his flaming tumbleweeds. I remember the look of atavistic joy my father would get every time he sprayed lighter fluid on the barbecue. I remember the chill night as my high school friends and I stood together soaking up the heat. I remember all of the campfires. Every ignis has a life of its own; it moves and dances in its chemical fury. The flames are mesmerizing, and I find myself constantly in awe by it. There is no such thing as a controlled fire, only a contained one. Anyone who’s ever witnessed a forest fire can see the inferno in the spark, can imagine the power behind the chemical reaction. In a strange way, it’s the only truly wild creature left in the West.

2008-01-06

1/15 sec, f 4.5, ISO 400, 55 mm