Monday, September 2, 2013

Photographic Subject Matter - Architecture

   My most extended and in-depth photographic study of architecture was my Rural Geometry series.  You can see the folio if you scroll down the right sidebar.  You can read the post, Photographing the Familiar, in which I talked about the long-term project involving the buildings in Tamworth, New Hampshire.

   There seems to be a trend in photography lately of photographing abandoned buildings - either rural or urban.  I must confess I do like exploring these decaying edifices.  I'm constantly on the lookout for interesting surfaces, peeling paint being a favorite.  In the Outer Hebrides of Scotland you often come across these types of buildings.  It is a good way to contemplate impermanence.

   Specific architectural features like doors and windows are also excellent contemplative subject matter.  I've devoted a board on my Pinterest site to the subject...check it out here.

   The image on the right is of an abandoned house in the Western Isles.  The grass and flowers growing on the window sill makes one think that this is a house that's been vacant for a long time.  Birds and other creatures had taken up residence yet the walls seemed strong and solid.  The house is being consumed, albeit slowly, by nature.  No matter how well and sturdily we build, without our constant vigilance our best efforts decay and return to the earth.  There certainly is a message in that.

  


Sunday, September 1, 2013

PhotoTao Card #38 - A Trusting Nature

A Trusting Nature
Trust is an absolute assurance that all is
well.  Trust is a conviction that does not 
falter.  Trust knows truth; It is simple and
uncomplicated.
- Exercise -
  When you go out to make photographs,
trust that you will make the ones you
need to make.  Do not have an agenda.
Have the firm conviction that you will
succeed even if the images you end up
with are not what you set out to make. 
Photographs made with a trusting heart
will always be sincere and authentic
expressions of self.


   I had come with an agenda.  I wanted to photograph the softly lit interiors of the Shaker buildings as I had in Pleasant Hill, Kentucky.  I soon found out that that agenda needed to be put aside since interior photography was not permitted.  I had to trust that the day would not be "wasted".  I would receive the images I needed to receive.  (You can read about the rather unusual image I received here...)

   Looking at the exteriors of the buildings was one approach but embracing the landscape itself was another and it gave me much to think about.  The Shakers always chose the most beautiful locations for the communities.  I've been to several and they all have a sense of space and distant horizons.  They were open and airy and incredibly ordered and neat, just like the interior spaces.  In fact, sitting in their landscape was very much like sitting in one of their buildings.

   For the first time I connected the Shaker communities to the monastic enclosures I'd visited and stayed in.  There was that sense of being out of "the world" here as I've felt in the monasteries.  The Shakers lived a completely communal lifestyle as monks do.  And as in monasteries, there is a sense of security and peace here even though it is no longer an active village.  But I know where there is a village with Shakers quietly carrying on their lives, apart from the world, of it but not in it...Sabbathday Lake, Maine. The most real experience was closest to home.  I thought, that will be my next stop, perhaps this fall.  Here is a link to a wonderful PBS interview with two of the last Shakers living at Sabbathday Lake.  I do sincerely hope they will not be the last Shakers but time will tell.



   It was a glorious late summer day in Canterbury and to gaze out at the lovely landscape was an excellent way to spend a few hours.  For much of the time I didn't even bother with the camera...just sitting taking it all in was enough for me.  Yes, you can always rely on a trusting and open heart to make the very most of a day whether you make photographs or not!


Saturday, August 31, 2013

The A, B, C's of Contemplative Photography - G

G is for Glean (and also for Generate and Guide and Gather...)

To gather slowly...bit by bit.   

    You are probably familiar with the famous painting by Millet called the Gleaners.  Peasants were allowed into the harvested fields to "glean" or gather whatever shafts of wheat were left behind.  I think this is an apt metaphor for contemplative photographers.  After the casual photographers sweep a place clean of "worthy" images, we contemplatives are left to glean the abandoned fields for left behind and overlooked possibilities.  The gleaners must move slowly and look carefully to find these left over tidbits but they will find them.

     That is why it is beneficial, and perhaps crucial, to return again and again to a place.  Each time you return you will mine deeper and deeper levels of awareness and understanding.  On first look, we see what everyone else sees...what most are content to see, photograph and move on from.  Gleaners are photographers who are patient and persistent and always prepared to look more closely and ever deeper.  It's the kind of photographer I want to be.




Friday, August 30, 2013

A Personal "Reflection" - More Than Meets the Eye

   This is one of the images I received during my Star Island stay.  I was sitting on the wide front porch of the Oceanic Hotel in one of their rockers waiting for the sunset, which on Star Island can be quite beautiful.  I thought I was done photographing for the day.  These little rowboats moored in the harbor had other ideas though.

   I looked up from the book I was reading from time to time and my eyes kept focusing on this pair of boats.  I tried to ignore their insistent invitation to come closer.  Finally, I succumbed.  I put my book aside and wandered down to the shore.  What in the world did these little boats have to tell me?  Why was I so attracted to them?  Now, I must admit that 5 years ago I wouldn't have given these boats a  second glance but as I said in a earlier post, we are drawn to contemplative imagery because we earnestly seek it out, even unconsciously.  This was one of those occasions.

   It was the reflections.  The beautiful still water and warm late day sunlight created lovely rippled reflections but as I drew near I could see one boat's reflection seemed to sprout an extension...a softly undulating line.  It was, of course, the reflection of a large sailboat mast moored a distance behind it but it looked as if it was coming out of this little boat.  It made me smile and my mind was a whorl with ideas.  I made the photograph and hurried back to the porch to write in my journal.  This is what sprouted from my pen as a result of that image...

We all have dreams and asperations...we all are so
much more than meets the casual viewers eye.  There is a 
depth and complexity to each human soul that extends
 beyond our ordinary, day to day existence.

   My take away from this little experience was, when the landscape tugs at your heart strings, get up off your duff and go hear what it has to say!  It's bound to be enlightening.  The more you practice contemplative photography, the more these little interludes will occur.  I am reminded of a Rumi quotation which I have used before but which is particularly apropos to this experience...

What you are seeking is
also seeking you.

 

Thursday, August 29, 2013

On Location - Star Island


Ceila in her garden by Childe Hassam
  It's funny how we tend to overlook the near at hand in favor of the faraway and exotic.  Star Island is one of those near to hand places I've known about for years but just never got to.  In this year of exploring the nearby, it was time for me to head to Portsmouth, New Hampshire and take the ferry out to Star Island in the Isles of Shoals.

   I had first come to know about Star Island and its surrounding islands through the writings of Ceilia Thaxter who lived on Appledore Island.  Thaxter was a poet and compatriot of many notable 19th century writers and artists.  With her friend Childe Hassam, a Boston painter, she wrote and illustrated An Island Garden, which still sits on my bookshelf, having survived my winter purge of no longer needed books.  Hassam's paintings, masterpieces of American Impressionism, have long been favorites of mine.

   Appledore would have to wait for I was headed to Star Island.  Although I wouldn't see her garden, there is a museum of her writing and life on Star Island so I was content with that.  I caught the morning ferry in Portsmouth Harbor.  It is an hour ferry ride and as the little boat pulled away from the dock, you could feel the separation begin.  That is one of the main reasons I love journeying to islands, despite my tendency to suffer from the mal de mer! You literally turn your back to the world and venture to a self-contained sanctuary and retreat.  People have been seeking this sanctuary on Star Island for nearly 250 years.

   Here is a link to the Star Island website.  You might just want to put a visit on your "bucket list".  It certainly is one of those special places in New England and for the contemplative photographer, it is an amazing experience.  Some more images and impressions of the  place tomorrow...





Wednesday, August 28, 2013

Inspired by Kim Manley Ort: A Guest Post

Hello, everyone. Patricia Turner asked me to talk about what being a contemplative photographer means to me. So, here goes.

My mission is to live a contemplative life, so first I'd like to talk about what contemplation means to me.

Contemplation is about meeting life from a particular stance.

And that stance looks like this - being open and transparent; being curious about life. It's about listening well, without judging, controlling or comparing. There's no punishing; there's no winning or even losing. There is love, compassion, and kindness.

From this stance, I see and recognize that everything is about relationship. We are impacted by everyone and everything, and vice versa. We have the power and the privilege to make an impact with our every action, which makes it so important that those actions spring from contemplation. 

Do I always operate from this stance? Of course not, but these are all habits that can be cultivated and photography helps me to practice.

Mentors in Contemplative Photography

I'd like to share with you some of the people who have influenced my thinking about contemplation. It's a diverse mix, and from them I've come to my own way of living a contemplative life.

Freeman Patterson and Andre Gallant, well-known Canadian photographers, taught me to see the underlying foundation of everything – the visual design inherent in every image. They were the first to show me how labels limit our seeing.

Frederick Franck, artist and writer, wrote the classic book The Zen of Seeing. He taught me to experience wonder and essence through drawing.

Thomas Merton, a Trappist monk, demonstrated the value of solitude and taking a long, loving look. He was really in love with the world.

And more recently the Miksang approach to contemplative photography, taught by Michael Wood and Julie DuBose, showed me how to become more aware of my initial perceptions.

These are the perceptions that come before we put labels on things. We don't really realize how quickly our perceptions are covered over by conceptual thinking.

Finally Seth Godin, who is a business blogger, not a photographer, is all about seeing and noticing in new ways. What he's taught me is that everyone has a unique way of seeing and that it's important to share that with the world.

So how does photography fit into this?

Photography is the tool that helps me to slow down, be present, and pay attention to my life. And then, to engage.

Being a contemplative photographer means everything to me. I see things in really new and exciting ways all the time. The more I practice, the more there is to see.

Photography also helps me to be more self-aware because what we see and notice reflects our inner state to some extent.

For example, my photography tends to go in themes and last winter I noticed that I was photographing vines growing on surfaces. Then, in the spring I was noticing blossoms at my feet. I like to write about how these themes reflect whatever's going on in my life at the time.

Contemplative photography is a really joyful experience for me and helps me to handle whatever comes my way in life, hopefully with grace.  

Thank you Kim!  It is always good for people to read about how others approach this diverse and fascinating field of contemplative photography!  You can visit Kim's blog, 365 Days of Inspiration for more of her thought provoking commentary on contemplative photography.  There is always a link to her blog in the right sidebar.  Here is a link to her manifesto for living a contemplative life entitled Widen the Lens...short, concise and very much to the point.  Read it here and sign up for here weekly newsletter and download the poster for free! 



 

Tuesday, August 27, 2013

A Contemplative Look at the Visual Elements - Color

   I know I've said this before but here it goes again...I can't believe I really didn't embrace color photography until 2009!  For four years I only  created monochrome images.  But there is a whole range of contemplative possibilities in the use of color.  In some respects, it is the visual element that has the longest history of psychological associations. (To explore some of these associations, visit this link.)

   Color is also very culture specific but, as in all the visual elements, how you react to certain colors can be based on all sorts of reasons and non-reasons.  As I talked about in the post  about attraction, you will pay attention most to colors you find "pleasing" and you will not see others.  I could list all the standard implications for specific colors, like red = passion and yellow = happiness but that's like telling everyone there is only one shoe size and you just have to deal with it.  People get very passionate when the talk about color. 

   Explore your own personal responses to color in your journal. (You can read my post, The Power of Green here.)  Go to a paint store an pull out two samples of colors you really dislike...then go in search of them and photograph them.  Make it a point to find as many examples of them as you can.  As you create your "color collection" do you find your initial repugnance modifying?

   Then there is the whole area of color harmonies; specific pairings or groups of colors that designers/artists use for creating certain effects.  Color theory is an important field of study in art schools and you can find out about some of the basic theories here.  But all this is really irrelevant to the contemplative photographer. Whereas some knowledge of color theory will help you create more dynamic images, in the end it gets down to the old question of creating vs. receiving your images.  How much manipulation is necessary?  Enhancing is one thing, controlling is another.  You have to decide how far you want to go and how important all the theory is.

   In her wonderful new book,  Eyes of the Heart , Christine Valters Painter mentions the 1938 movie The Wizard of Oz.  In the beginning, the film is black and white and only when she opens the door of the farmhouse that has landed in Oz does the film become color.  A lovely metaphor for awakened perception and I can't help but see myself as Dorothy, awakening to the power of color in my camera work.  Below is a video which uses this device of showing something in black and white and then slowly bringing out the color.  It will get you thinking about...