Reflections on the Tao: Changing Direction

“If you do not change direction, you may end up where you are heading.”

- Lao Tzu 

   I've always enjoyed this quote.  It shows the humor that infuses a great deal of Lao Tzu's writings.  So much of religion and philosophy is so deadly serious; Lao Tzu appreciated the lighter side of life.  But this quote has a serious implication as well.

   This year marks the 10th anniversary of my return to photography and so much has changed over that time.  I was much more "serious" in the beginning.  Fine art black and white photography was my path...all else was unimportant.  But slowly, very slowly at first, my eyes opened up to the contemplative possibilities of the photographic image as well as the world of color photography.

   I changed direction several years ago and I am very thankful that I did.  What I learned was that what I needed from my camera work was a more inward and self-reflective journey.  I had to put aside my ego that kept shouting in my ear, "It is all about exhibits and sales!" and listen to my soul who said in a much quieter voice, "Oh no it isn't!".  I couldn't be happier.

   I will be having an exhibition of my pond series late this summer and that will be wonderful but what the pond has given me is worth far more that any ego boost, or sales, I may get from the show.  That is the real gift changing directions all those years ago has given me...the permission to just enjoy my life with my camera and not constantly be chasing the next show or wondering how to market my work.  That is a wonderful and liberating feeling indeed.

Reflections on the Tao: Doing and Being

The way to do

is to be.

- Lao Tzu

   Contemplative photography, at least for me, is as much about being as it is about doing.  What is crucial is that you allow the concept to evolve gradually, through time and exploration, until you arrive at a practice (the doing part) that aligns with your essential humanity ( the being part).  It is not a case of "one size fits all".

     Whenever I've lectured or led contemplative walks, I've emphasized that the being part must come first...the doing part will follow.  One must forge their own and unique relationship with the landscape, the world around them.  I built mine through the application of Taoist principles as well as Celtic spirituality but it is, by no means, the be all and end all of contemplative photography.  It is my way, that's all.

   Immersing myself early on in the basic principles of Celtic spirituality and Taoism opened up a path that I could have found in other ways perhaps but it fit me like a well worn pair of shoes.  It was comfortable and nothing pinched.  Many, if not all, workshops and teachings revolve around the doing part and that is very important.  But in the end, it will require that you settle into your own and unique way of being with your camera in the landscape.  Take away from these teachings, including this blog, only what feels comfortable and which fits in with who you are and what you feel in your heart.  Then you will have defined contemplative photography for yourself and it will fit like a glove.

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Footnote:

   John O'Donohue, that great Celtic soul that I was privileged to know, wrote eloquently on how the outer landscape is a grand metaphor for the hidden inner landscape of your soul.  His writings on Celtic spirituality have formed the foundation of my thoughts and work as a contemplative photographer.  Here is a wonderful interview he did for the radio show On Being which was recorded just a few months before his death.  I'm sure you will love listening...

The Inner Landscape of Beauty

Reflections on the Tao: The Three Treasures

Simplicity, patience, compassion.
These three are your greatest treasures.
Simple in actions and thoughts,

 you return to the source of being.
Patient with both friends and enemies,
you accord with the way things are.
Compassionate toward yourself,
you reconcile all beings in the world.

Lao Tzu

    It is the season of gift giving and Lao Tzu illuminates the concept with his three treasures.  If I could give the world gifts, I would make sure these three treasures would be included.

   As contemplative photographers, we can give ourselves and our work these treasures as well.  Simplicity in approach, patience to wait for the landscape to direct us, and compassion with our shortcomings, photographically speaking.  We all have our strengths and those are our gifts to each other through our camera work.

   This shoreline image shows the place where a small stream trickles into the pond.  The moving water does not freeze quickly and I sometimes have seen birds drinking here.  Even in nature there are small gifts given everyday and we are blessed by them all.

Reflections on the Tao - Balance

Shape clay into a vessel;

It is the space within that

 makes it useful.

Cut doors and windows for a room;

It is the holes which make it useful.

Therefore benefit comes from

 what is there;

Usefulness from what is not there.

― Lao Tzu

   What I have always found fascinating about Taoism is this essential element of dynamic balance that pervades the teachings of Lao Tzu. 

    This quote demonstrates the intrinsic balance that is achieved by recognizing  the interplay between what is there and what is not...the "negative" and the "positive" which are both important and complimentary.

   If you have studied the basic design principles you know how "balance" is discussed...symmetrical, asymmetrical, visual "weight, empty and full space.  These are all part of the concept of balance in the visual arts but somehow, I feel this quote opens up a whole different way of regarding balance.  We normally think of a photograph as a representation of what is there but it is in what is not there that the real contemplation lies.

   I could go on and on about the photograph above.  It is, quite simply, a photograph of two cairns near my house.  But if we look into what is not there...well, what would you see?  What "usefulness" can you find there?  My first reaction is the idea of gravity as "glue", holding things in place by the prevailing force of the universe. If you have any thoughts along these lines, let me know.  I would be very interested to get your reactions.

  

Whose Landscape are You Photographing?

Rain on Water II

   I can't speak for everyone of course but before I began my Poetry of Place project at Little Clemons Pond, I was firmly embedded in the 19th century romantic vision of landscape.  I saw the beauty, the lyrical quality even the divine thumbprint but it was all things I was projecting onto the landscape.

   Now, I have glimpsed another landscape, a landscape that is creating itself, projecting itself onto me.  It is a subtle but very real difference to my mind and, to be perfectly honest, a much more Taoist approach as well.

   This photograph is a variation of the image I posted on November 4th.     With these images I realized that as I watch the water's surface the landscape, through the rain drops that hit it in  random patterns, was creating and re-creating the composition as I just stood there and observed it.  It was a bit of a revelation to me.  I could control what part of the water I photographed but the landscape was creating the composition...a composition that changed second to second as the rain fell and the light changed.

     This is not my landscape despite how much I feel connected to it.  It is a living breathing entity of its own.  Interpretation is my role in the process and offers me all sorts of creative avenues to explore but I no longer feel any artistic superiority.  Perhaps that is still a bit of a romantic notion but it reminds me of a lovely quote from a Taoist master...

You ask why I make my home in the mountain forest, and I smile, and am silent, and even my soul remains quiet: it lives in the other world which no one owns. The peach trees blossom, The water flows. ―Li Po (701 – 762)  

   So now, whose landscape are you photographing?
  

Reflections on the Tao - The Still Point

When there is no more separation between 'this' and 'that,' it is called the still-point of the Tao. At the still point in the center of the circle one can see the infinite in all things.   ~ Chuang Tzu

   In my last post, I talked about centering yourself in Nature. I thought this quotation from Chuang Tzu was a perfect follow up.

   This concept, of finding the still point, is at the core of Taoist teaching.  As I understand the idea, it is striving to not differentiate.

    It is not 'me' or 'you', it is simply 'us'.  It is not 'photographer' and 'photographed', it is a single relationship. Ultimately, it is the ability to live with the both/and instead of the either/or, as Fr. Richard Rohr says.

   I will admit, it is not an easy concept to wrap your mind around.  It is the ultimate non-dualist mindset...one I strive daily to aspire to and, if I am totally honest, seldom achieve.  Yet, somehow, I feel that it is the center of what it means to be a contemplative photographer...finding that still point and making your images from that viewpoint.

   This quote by Carl Jung talks about how the achieving of the still point places one inside the whole of Nature.  From that still point, we can perceive the eternal of all things.  Now that is a goal, in my opinion, that is worth striving for.

"At times I feel as if I am spread out over the landscape and inside things, and am myself living in every tree, in the splashing of the waves, in the clouds and the animals that come and go, in the procession of the seasons."

~ C. G. Jung, Memories, Dreams, Reflections, Ch. 8

   

Reflections on the Tao - Patience

  Nature does not

hurry yet everything

is accomplished.

- Lao Tzu

   The digital camera is both a blessing and a curse.  It simplifies the photographic process to such a degree that we can accomplish in seconds what the 19th century photographer took hours to create.

   It is not just in the processing of the image but in the recording of it that photography has become something of a split second activity...I call it the "click and run" syndrome.

   Yet, we can learn a vital lesson in this thought by the great Taoist master, Lao Tzu.  Slow down, adopt the pace of nature.  You may not make as many images but they may be more evocative.

   I had already photographed the small group of blue flags at the ponds edge and I was about to move on when something told me to draw closer and look deeper.  When I allowed my eye to see beyond the flowers, I caught sight of a beautiful reflection.  I took my time and kept the camera to my eye. Something disturbed the water's surface, perhaps a fish rising to grab a water bug, and it created the soft rings.  It was then I made my photograph.

  The whole process took several minutes to transpire. I'm glad I looked beyond the focal point, into what was around and behind it and I'm very glad I slowed down and let the image emerge on its own.  It let me know when it was time to release the shutter and this is the result.

Reflections on the Tao - III

   This is one of my favorite quotes from Lao Tzu.  It resonates for me on so many levels.  I began this blog two years ago with the Empty Bowl story and it bears repeating.  We cannot add to a cup that is already filled...it will only spill out and be lost.  

   As a photographer, we are constantly bombarded by new techniques and new equipment that promise to change our lives.  It is good to keep learning and expanding our knowledge of the medium we love but is there ever a time when "enough is enough"?  

To gain knowledge, add something every day;

To gain wisdom, remove something every day.

   I've reached the point in my life where I've come to appreciate more the empty space in the bowl than the bowl itself.  It is the potential that fascinates me.  I'm beginning to look more and more for the empty spaces in the landscape as well.  As a rule, Nature abhors empty spaces and rushes in to fill them.  We clear away and Nature pours in but there are other places one can study the potential of the empty space.

   I photographed the interior of a lovely old house recently. It had stood empty for several years...it was stuck in this state of potentiality until a man decided to rescue it and return it to its former glory.  I'm sure he will do a splendid job but I must admit to taking a certain pleasure in the empty rooms where the only thing that "filled" them was the sound of our footsteps on the bare floors.

   Someone once said that the music happens between the notes.  I think that's what Lao Tzu is referencing in today's quotes.  Look for the beauty contained in the empty space, wherever you may find it.  Rest in the potentiality of the space and embrace the possibilities.

    When we remove the clutter that distracts us, even symbolically, we are left with the pure wisdom of the empty space.

Reflections on the Tao - II

He who knows that enough is enough

 will always have enough. - Lao Tzu

   Once, when I was photographing in Santa Fe, I came across a very interesting scene. The man who was sitting on a bench (waiting for his wife to come out of CVS believe it or not) was such an appealing subject. The man I was with spent quite a bit of time fumbling in his camera bag...a great internal debate going on about what lens would be appropriate and whether he should go back to the car for his tripod (which, in fact, he did). 

   I, on the other hand, only had my camera with its one lens so I didn't have any other options.  I asked the man if he minded if I photographed him and he said that it was quite alright.  I made this photograph as his wife came out of the store.  He got up to leave just as my friend came around the corner...too late.

   Now I have no problem with having multiple lenses and tripods.  There were plenty of times I had wished for a macro or a more powerful zoom lens.  So, you might ask, why then don't you?  The answer is quite simple.  What I have, an 18-200 zoom, has always been enough for me.  I don't want the burden of all that equipment, physically and psychologically.  Oh, back in 2005 when I began this photographic odyssey, I was way more "equipped".   But after awhile, each time that I embarked on another trip I left more equipment at home. It seemed to be getting in the way of my interaction with the landscape somehow. I'm now toying with the idea of getting a smaller and lighter camera than my Nikon D90.  Perhaps, one day, I won't feel the need to take a camera at all!

   Some photographers (not contemplative ones!) often spend a great deal of time bemoaning the fact that had they had the "right" lens, or a tripod, or if the light had been better, they would have gotten a perfect photograph.  I say, spend less time thinking about the equipment and more time embracing the moment...establishing a relationship, a connection, with the landscape or whatever it is you are photographing. Rainy days have as much to teach us as sunny ones...perhaps even more.  I made my image of this wonderful mountain man...my friend, with all his fancy equipment, did not.

Reflections on the Tao - I

   One of my 2014 New Year's resolutions for this blog is to return from time to time to the relationship of the Tao to photography.  After all, the name of the blog derives from Taoist philosophy and it has been awhile since I've considered it.

The heart that gives,

gathers. - Tao Te ching

   One of the things that I sincerely believe is that words matter.  The words you use to define yourself and your photographic practice impact what you will receive from the landscape.  A mindset of "capture" and "shooting" is predatory.  It sets up an almost adversarial relationship with the landscape. 

    I also like to think that we can never find in the landscape that which is absent from our own hearts.  That, for me, is what this quotation is all about.  If I sit prayerfully in the landscape, if I open my heart to it and its mysteries, I inevitably gather in the purest and most meaningful images.

   If, on the other hand, I am rushed, unfocused and concerned only with my agenda, the images I receive are less likely to be representative of the spirit of the place.  They will become postcards and not icons.  I may gather far fewer images if I take the time to give the landscape my heartfelt regard but it is quality and not quantity that matters most to me.  I will gather in the images that will be the most meaningful for me at that time because I've taken the time to open my heart and not just impose my will.

    At another time, the landscape may have a different message.  That is why returning again and again to the same location is valuable and something I try to do as much as possible.  Think of it as returning to visit an old friend.  Instead of dominating the conversation with your wants and needs, sit still and just listen.  Establish a relationship and you may be surprised by what you will learn.