Gathering Breadcrumbs on a Woodland Walk...

   I can certainly empathize with Louis Agassiz.  My small backyard offers endless opportunities to explore.  I took a walk on a pleasant Sunday just a few days before hunting season would make this far less enjoyable for me.

   It was quite mild and wonderfully quiet in my little wood a few hundred yards from the house.  I seemed to fixate on the moss and lichen on this walk.  Every walk brings some new point of view it seems.  I've lived here 19 years and I always find something new.

   A friend sent me a notice about an exhibit, Walden Re-Visited,  in which contemporary artists use Thoreau's Walden Pond as an inspiration for their work.  Every time I walk in my woods or visit the little pond down the road, Thoreau is in my mind.  His influence continues to be felt 160 years after the publication of his seminal book.  Here are a few more of my breadcrumbs from that walk and a few Thoreau quotes as well...

An early-morning walk is a

 blessing for the whole day.

 

 

Every creature is better alive than dead, men and moose and pine trees, and he who understands it aright will rather preserve its life than destroy it.

 

 

In human intercourse the tragedy begins, not when there is misunderstanding about words, but when silence is not understood.

 

If a man walks in the woods for love of them half of each day, he is in danger of being regarded as a loafer. But if he spends his days as a speculator, shearing off those woods and making the earth bald before her time, he is deemed an industrious and enterprising citizen.

 

Mind the Gap...

   I decided to give myself a challenge the other day.  I would go out and photograph only the top of my patio table which was speckled with little yellow honey locust leaves and still wet from the four days of rain we had.

   This is my favorite composition of the lot and it really was all about composition.  Me being "artsy".  As soon as I looked at it I had to laugh.  Placing an "empty" space right in the middle would have made my drawing teacher back in the day crazy!  But I love it and I think it is because the red brick showing through doesn't seem like empty space to me at all, just a rich red line.

   I like the simplicity and abstract quality to the composition as well as the color.  I have to admit, it was really fun to just think in compositional terms for a bit and not deeper meaning and metaphor.  But it did remind me of the warnings I've seen in London subway stations...to "Mind the Gap".

   Actually, this is an excellent exercise for anyone who wants to explore design.  Pick an impossibly small place and see what sorts of compositions you can come up with.  Make a lot of photographs...horizontals and verticals.  Get in close and go for the pure abstract expression if you want.  Above all else, just have fun with the exercise and don't give a second thought to the gap.

Becoming Who We Really Are...

   Life is a confluence of experience.  One thing flows into and plays off of another.  When we are able to see the connections it can be quite eye opening.  This happened to me last week and I want to share it with you all.

   I went to a wonderful installation exhibit at a deserted mill in my town.  Created by artist Amy Stacey Curtis, it was an interactive collection of 9 parts.  The one that impacted me the most was the linear labyrinth.

  This is where the confluence began.  As you slowly moved from square to square you realize that each represents a stage of life...from birth to death.  The revelation is that the end looks exactly like the beginning.  It made me think of a wonderful Confucious quote:

Life is simple but we insist on

making it complicated.

   Of course, this co-ordinates nicely with my genealogy research that I spoke about yesterday and I suppose that would have been enough but there was one more occurrence to add to this chain.  I read a post that Kim Manley Ort had added to her Google+ page and it all clicked...it all fused together into a wonderful moment of revelation.

The Poetry of Place: 23 October 2014

      Kim posted a link to an On Being essay The Autumn of Our Own Existence by Omid Safi.
 In it, the author reveals what is really happening with the autumn leaves.  They are not changing or turning colors at all.  Those colors have always been there.  It is when the photosynthesis process ends, and the leaves begin to die, that the colors come out.  He goes on to relate this to our spiritual journey, our becoming who we have been all our life....

What beauty there is in letting go and accepting.
What wonder there is in embracing the colors inside.
What loveliness there is in the death of one color, and the shining through of all the divine colors.
How lovely is this human creature when the divine colors of compassion, kindness, mercy, justice, and forgiveness shine on through.

   All the pieces of this multi-day experience came together in a meaningful and beautiful way for me.  It underscored, yet again, what I've always believed; that we are engaged in a marvelous dance with the divine, even if, at times, we can't hear the music.  And with each step, each twirl, we find ourselves becoming more and more who we really are...who we always were...

As I enter this autumn season — and the autumn of my own existence — I am growing slowly more comfortable with the becoming less and less, so that more and more can be revealed.

- Omid Safi

Celebrating the Seasons - Samhain: Honoring our Ancestors

    The ancient celebration of Samhain (pronounced sow-in and which means "summer's end") has lost most of its original intent in our contemporary translation, Halloween or All Hallow's Eve.  Now we focus on the scary and macabre...the more gruesome the better.  But for the ancient Celts it was the thinnest of times and represented the beginning of their wheel of the year; it was their New Year celebration.  A thin time is when the veil between the worlds of the living and the dead was the most transparent.

   November 1st is the first day of winter according to the old Celtic calendar.  Animals who could not be fed during the long winter months would be slaughtered at this time and their would be great feasting.  It is appropriate that we celebrate Thanksgiving during November.  Most of us don't have to worry about our food supply during the bleak days of winter but the ancient people faced insecurity and hunger.  A good time to elicit help from their ancestors by leaving a west facing door open and a candle lit to beckon them in.  Lighted pumpkins on the doorstep is the contemporary version of this tradition.  My house does face west, lots of old farmhouses in rural Maine do, but I won't be leaving the door open.  More likely a raccoon would decide to enter!

    Samhain was a time to celebrate ancestors; those who had gone before.  The Mexican Day of the Dead celebration is really more in keeping with the ancient beliefs of the Celts.  In many respects, Samhain was more like our Memorial Day than a Stephen King novel.

   Looking at my family's old photographs, reading the words in their journals, setting it all in the context of the times they lived in, has been a wonderful experience for me.  I've been creating digitally collaged album pages and the story of my family's history is slowly evolving, page by page.  This will definitely be a good winter project for me.

   I also want to photograph my current family and record their thoughts and feelings. With the holiday season approaching, it is a good time to remember that contemplative photography can begin at home, around the Thanksgiving table or Christmas tree, and with those nearest and dearest to us.

    Photographing the material objects in your life can add to the story as well.  As photographers, we have a special opportunity to pass on our stories in a visual way; they do say a picture is worth a 1,000 words but pictures and words become a story.

    I do my daily photojournal, Memories4Me, for just that reason. (You can always check it out by clicking on the link in the right side bar.) I want to tell my story day by day, photograph by photograph.  When I am long gone these words and images will remain to tell the tale.  Start now, during the season of family and memory, to tell your own story through your photographs and words.

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My Annual Samhain Ritual:

My grandmother - 1912

   This evening I will do my ritual of remembrance.  On slips of paper, I will write a message to people who have passed away.  I roll them up and as I utter their names, I lay the rolled words on the fire in my wood stove. My words will travel up with the smoke. 

   This idea of smoke carrying prayers or wishes is not new.  Tibetan Buddist and Taoist monks burn incense to carry their prayers heavenward. I saw them practicing this when I was in China and fell in love with the idea.  For me, this little ritual is simply an acknowledgement of my feeling for these people who have gone on before me and the debt I owe them.

    I saw an interview recently with actor Mandy Patinkin in which he said that he believed that as long as a person's name is uttered they are never forgotten. He says the names of people in his life who have died everyday. My ritual, as well as the digital album I am creating, is my way of remembering....

Inspired by DIane Arbus...

Diane Arbus - 1949 by Allen Arbus

Taking pictures is like tiptoeing into the kitchen late at night and stealing cookies.

- Diane Arbus

    Diane Arbus had a unique point of view.  Whether you like her graphic and sometimes disturbing images or not, you might find yourself agreeing with this statement of hers. 

    Although I don't particularly care for the "taking" and the "stealing" parts, I do love the overall gist of it.  I am constantly delighted to be able to savor the tiny moments I experience through the photographs I make of them.  There is a wondrous and child-like element to it.

   Sometimes I find myself nearly giddy with delight when I happen upon a particular element in the landscape or anywhere I find myself.   I sometimes think to myself, "Doesn't everyone see this?  Don't you think it's wonderful?"  They answers are no, they usually don't and no, not particularly.  But I never let that dissuade me from seeking them out.

   When you walk through the world expecting to be surprised and delighted you invariably are.  If your eyes have been dulled with cynicism, you rarely will experience either.  The skeptics among us are often too jaded to appreciate the small but singularly delightful things we go on and on about.  That should not keep you from reveling in them.  Go ahead, enjoy those Oreos!

    

Trust the Process...

   Contemplative photography, like every other form of art, is a process.  And sometimes, especially when one is feeling a bit stuck, it is important to remember to trust that process.  You will see the things you need to see, you will be where you need to be and the meaning of the images will reveal itself to you in time.  You simply have to have faith.

   I write this daily photo blog and I also post daily to my photojournal.  It can get a bit overwhelming at times.  Those are the very times when I need to step back and put my trust in the process that has always worked for me in the past.  I simply stay open to random influences that will, all of a sudden, open my eyes to  new photographic possibilities.

   I am reading a wonderful book that mentions the Einstein concept of seeing time as a river that bends and curves; a river we drift along in but which we can step out of if we choose.  When I looked out my kitchen window a little while later I saw this...a visual translation of the passage I just read. 

   Little clues, small illuminations, subtle messages are all around us all the time. They needn't be earth shattering or mind blowing either...just gentle nudges for the soul to contemplate. Being intensely involved with my genealogical research of late, it was a most important image for me to see at this moment and I didn't even have to leave my house to see it.  I did walk out back to make the photograph but it was a walk of about 50 feet.  The point is, one must remain open to any and all influence...let it sink in and filter its way through your consciousness and eventually it will direct you to a new moment of clarity.  Trust but don't force the process.  Let it just flow like Einstein's river...

Please, do sweat the small stuff!

As Above, So Below

   We've all heard the old adage, "Don't sweat the small stuff!"  I'm here to say that it is all small stuff and it is well worth the effort.

   Thoreau said that there are two ways to view the landscape, with a telescope or a microscope.  Somehow I think the answer lies in between.  While we all love the grand vista, it is in the intimate details that I find the most enjoyment.  For me, the landscape is the sum total of the myriad details that make it up.

The moment one gives close attention to anything, even a blade of grass, it becomes a mysterious, awesome, indescribably magnificent world in itself.

- Henry Miller

   While I love to photograph the sweep of a pond,  the big view, I am most content with the closer, more personal relationship I can forge with the small details of the landscape.  Like this study of reflections at a friends pond this summer.

   I was captivated by the light, the color and, of course, the amazing reflection in the still water.  And moving in to a more intimate detail creates a lovely abstraction.  Yet, everything the larger photograph has is contained in the small view.

   The closer I get into the landscape the more impressionistic and even abstract it becomes.  I've certainly discovered this in my project The Poetry of Place.   It really is, in the final analysis, up to your personal engagement with the landscape...do you take the large view or the small view?  Or perhaps, like me, do you enjoy the process of walking into the landscape, to try and see the whole from a small part?  Here is a link to a discussion on three different ways to engage the landscape...try them all!

Photographing the Landscape

   No matter which of the three you decide suits you, keep your mind and heart open.  Sometimes it is the landscape itself that will tell you what you need to do.