Andreas Gursky's recent record-breaking $4.3 million photograph seems to be causing some controversy on forums. Indeed, in another thread on this forum someone suggested that we tend to be too equipment orientated to have a true appreciation of art. So, whether or not you like Andreas Gursky's picture, here's your chance to show off the arty side of your photography. Pretentious Artist's Statement optional and Art Critic style analysis by other members welcome. It's just a bit of fun! To start things off, here are a few of mine. For this picture I was inspired by the notion that even static landscapes have an inherent motion that is not always perceived by the human eye. Sometimes it requires the interpretation made possible by another medium to introduce the viewer to what is already there, but hidden. As an artist I feel it is my responsibility to channel my influence over the viewer towards a spiritual uplifting of the ordinary to the extraordinary. Are these ripples on water or the fault lines in thawing ice? A metaphor perhaps for our enigmatic lives which are not always what they seem. If these are indeed ripples, then they have effectively been frozen in time by the photograph; if fault lines in ice the photograph has captured the gradual motion of the thaw. A paradox then, is this frozen in motion or motion frozen? A paradox surely that describes our daily lives - are we moving forward in serenity and calm or stuck fast in the trap of ever-increasing progress? The blue tone represents our melancholy, a sadness at not knowing which path we are on or in which direction we are heading. One thing is sure, the ripples or flow lines - be what they are - represent the motion of life that goes on unchecked, with or without us. Sometimes things in life are not always what they seem, even when we view them with our own eyes. This photograph attempts to demonstrate the leverage that an artist has upon the conceptions of his audience, literally turning their views upside down. Suddenly a river becomes the sky, flowing almost platonically through the landscape. Floating leaves become falling leaves, yet they do not descend. Instead they drift weightlessly upon the intangiable wind which only our eyes perceive, perhaps like us when we lack a purpose and allow ourselves to drift with the flow of life. Like a wind that's always blowing, life is flowing, move on.