Behind the Piece: Intertwined Stillness

Behind the Piece: Intertwined Stillness

Intertwined Stillness began on my final day in Kenya.

After spending 10 days traveling through different areas from Mombasa to Nairobi, I visited Nairobi National Park before heading to the airport for departure. Even that decision felt fitting — one last chance to take in the wildlife before leaving. What I did not expect was that the experience inside the park would be so unforgettable for reasons far beyond the animals themselves.

The visit was anything but polished.

A friend took us through the park in his cab, and along the way the car began having mechanical problems. At one point, he would get out to look underneath the vehicle, even though one of the main rules in the park is to stay inside your car. As an American visitor trying to take in the beauty of the place while quietly wondering whether lions might appear at any moment, I remember thinking I was far too Americanized for that level of extra drama. I did not want adventure in that form. I just wanted to see the wildlife from the safety of a vehicle that was fully functional and ready to move.

And that day, the wildlife did not come easily.

It was one of those evenings where you really had to search for it. The sightings were not immediate, and the winding roads through the park seemed to hold more anticipation than certainty. Then, out of nowhere, the giraffe appeared through the trees.

It was close — strikingly close. Close enough that I was looking up at this towering animal while it looked calmly back down at me. And for all the tension of the day, that moment itself felt still. Quiet. Beautiful. The giraffe’s presence was so composed that it seemed to hold the whole scene in place.

What makes the encounter even more remarkable to me now is that I captured it before I ever imagined owning a long lens. This image was taken with a Sony Cyber-shot, a much smaller camera than the gear I use today, which says everything about how unexpectedly close the giraffe really was. To come away with that kind of detail from a compact camera still reminds me just how near and unforgettable the encounter felt in real time.

Of course, my response was immediate: take the picture fast.

There was no time to overthink framing or perfect composition. In a moment like that, you do not know how long the subject will remain, whether it will move, or whether the moment will disappear as quickly as it arrived. You simply respond. You trust your eye, lift the camera, and press the shutter. At the time, it felt like my own National Geographic moment — thrilling, slightly nerve-racking, and over before I had the luxury of second-guessing it.

Looking back, I still ask myself whether I was fully ready for that moment or whether I would want a redo. But in many ways, that question became part of the art.

With Intertwined Stillness, I was able to revisit the original capture and bring it together in a way that feels more complete artistically. By presenting the giraffe in two directions within the mixed media composition, the piece expands the feeling of that encounter — the stillness, the tension, the beauty, and the layered memory of looking up at something so calm while everything around the experience felt uncertain.

That is what makes this piece meaningful to me. It is not just about seeing a giraffe in Nairobi National Park. It is about the contrast between chaos and calm, between the rush to capture the moment and the stillness the animal carried so naturally.

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