Above all else, contemplative photography is about seeing...seeing things as they are. Seeing things with all the clarity of perception we can muster. To do that we need, occasionally, to polish the lens. Vision can get cloudy over time. Despite our best intentions, we can fall into the trap of seeing what we want to see, not what is really in front of us. We all have the tendency to want to "sanitize" our world...make it, perhaps, a purer more perfect place, as if the dark sides to existence are to be avoided at all costs.
Then there are those who revel in the darker side. Those haunting images of the decayed, broken and dark elements of our world. For me, I try to find a middle ground. I accept the dark but I don't dwell in it. I also realize that the two, taken together, heightens the experience of both...
What good is the warmth of summer, without
the cold of winter to give it sweetness.
―
John Steinbeck,
Travels with Charley: In Search of America
The pond's water level is dropping, exposing the mud and muck that before was beneath the lovely reflections dancing on the surface. It was always there, of course, but concealed. Now it is there to offer us a glimpse at the underside. The rotting vegetation may not be pretty, and it certainly doesn't smell sweet, but it is what feeds the pond. It is what gives it life. We may prefer to photograph the water lilies but it is the rotting muck that makes them possible. It is easy to turn away from the underside but it too has wisdom to offer us.
I call this "polishing the lens". It is walking the borderline between the dark and the light, appreciating both but not dwelling totally in either. It is the balance that is important and which the Tao teaches us to seek. When your inner lens is clear then you will embrace both views and not judge them. There are no "bad" locations or subjects for the contemplative photographer, only lenses than could do with a bit of a polish.
The inspiration for this post comes from Richard Rohr. You might like to read the original post...
This weekend I am in the sheltering sanctuary of St. Joseph's Abbey surrounded by an atmosphere of sacredness. I want to end this post by offering you a beautiful song by Peter Mayer that really describes how my camera and I walk through the world now. Peter would have felt right at home with the Concord Transcendentalists. He seems to echo the words of Emerson and Thoreau in so many ways in this song. The beautiful images that accompany the song will inspire you as well, I'm sure. I often find myself humming this tune while I am sitting in the landscape and it's title can ring as a kind of mantra for the contemplative photographer...
