Contemplative Possibilities - The Beauty of Rust

   When I journeyed to Japan in 2007 I was introduced to the concept of Wabi Sabi.  It is an aesthetic that sees beauty in imperfection.  It is an understanding of the impermanence of everything.  It was an idea that I had already embraced.  I was always fascinated by peeling paint and rusted surfaces...now I had a name for it!

   Many of the resulting photographic studies of rust I've done over the years are almost abstract.  I could easily see them as paintings.  They are like those ink blots that the psychologist shows you.  Everyone sees something different in their non-literal design.

   I saw a map in the rust and peeling paint on the deck of the ferry I took to Deer Island this past September and it became my post, Charting Innerscapes.  You can read that post here...

   I encourage you to consider working occasionally in a thematic way this year.  I will be exploring different possibilities on this blog under the subject heading of Contemplative Possibilities.  If you have any favorite themes of your own, please share! I would be interested in seeing your responses.


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 Footnote:

   Of course, you can go searching for rust in objects as well.  This rusted chain was lovely next to the turquoise rope.  It was the contrast of the rigid iron links and the flowing rope that excited my senses when I came across them, along with the color contrast.

   This is one of those images that can be looked at on a couple different levels...as purely a pleasing composition or a more contemplative study of freedom and restraint.

   Either way, this simple and commonplace arrangement of ordinary objects has a lot to offer the contemplative photographer.

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Through a Glass, Darkly...

Distortions

    I was making some photographic studies of a glass vase recently. I was fascinated by the distortions, shadows and reflections; the way the light shifted and altered  my perception of the glass form.  For some reason, it triggered a memory of the 1961 film by Ingmar Bergman, Through a Glass Darkly.   I decided to go looking for the reference.

 (BTW, this film won the 1962 Academy Award for best foreign film and is the first made by Bergman in his trilogy on faith.  The other two films are Winter Light and The Silence. All three films were required viewing in my college class on the history of film.  They all seemed to resonate with me after this winter's reflections and I decided to watch them again.  I'm so glad I did.  They are stunning films.) 

   My, was I surprised at how often, and in so many ways, this phrase has been used.  In film, in prose, in music, in poetry, and even as titles of television series episodes this phrase, "through a glass darkly", has inspired generations.  I wondered at its origin and found it refers to a biblical quotation, 1 Corithians 13:12,

For now we see through

a glass, darkly.

      What is it about this phrase that fascinates?  Does it have meaning for the contemplative photographer?  I think the answer to the first questions is found in the inherent truth of it.  What we think we can "see" is never the entire truth of anything.  It is all smoke and mirrors.  It can really be nothing else because so much lies buried beneath.

Reflections

   The answer to the second question is self-evident.  We trust the camera's lens to be the ultimate arbitrator of the truth but is it, really?  More questions.  

   This is an excellent jumping off point for the contemplative photographer.  What we seek to see, be it divine presence or perfect perception, is a mere shadow.  Turn the glass and the images shift and alter, subtle distortions...so it is in life as well.

“What a fool I was! and yet, in the sight of angels, are we any wiser as we grow older? It seems to me, only, that our illusions change as we go on; but, still, we are madmen all the same.”
― Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu, In a Glass Darkly

A Visual Listening Checklist...

  I think the part of my practice as a contemplative photographer that I am questioned most about is my visual listening exercises.  For me, contemplation is something I do before and after the actual photographing.  While I am engaged with making the photographs I turn to a more intuitive mindset.

  What I mean by "visual listening" is that I'm using my eyes as the ears of my heart...to hear what the landscape has to say to me by the images I am drawn to.  As I said in a previous post, "light is the language of the landscape" and that can only be 'heard' through the eyes.

    The way I look at and engage the landscape effects the quality of the experience I have with it. So these visual listening exercises are very important for me.  I try to switch off my brain, which can be very judgmental and rational, and turn on the heart's sonar system.  It scans the landscape for visual clues.  Anything I can do to slow down will help this process.

   I thought it might be helpful for those who wish to try this way of easing into their location to have a checklist to follow.  Keep in mind, however, that these are my ways of establishing a link to the landscape and are not the only ways...just a starting point.


I.     Find a comfortable place to sit.

II.   Close your eyes and just listen to the sounds of the place you are in.

III.  With your eyes still closed, take in the scents...touch things around you...make physical contact with the landscape.

IV.   Open your journal and record your first impressions.  Do not edit them...do not think too deeply about it...just record your initial reactions.  Let this play itself out for as long as it takes.

V.    Sketch if you like.  This step allows me to slow down and take in the essential elements of the landscape but isn't absolutely necessary.  These are not meant to be "fine art" just intuitive and spontaneous doodles.  You can make notes right on the sketch as well...like a visual journal.

VI.   What draws your eye? Now you can take out your camera and do some photographic "sketches". Look up, down, left, right and behind.  Use vertical as well as horizontal formats. Try not to think too much about it at this stage.

VII.  I often return to the journal and continue my thoughts on paper.  If I've brought something to read or listen to, something to inspire me further, I will do it at this time.

VIII. Now, put everything down, take a deep breath and just listen...give the landscape a chance to filter into your heart.  This time can last for several minutes.  Now is the time to do more serious photo-making if you want.  You will know when it is time to get up and move.

IX.   See where the landscape leads you and gather "breadcrumbs" as you walk.  When you feel the need, sit down and rest, reflect, listen.

X.    Take out your journal/sketch and make further notes on things that seem important for you to remember about this place.  If you can, try returning to this location at a different time of day or in different weather and see if there is more to learn here.  One thing I often do as I leave a place is to stop, turn and look back.  Last looks can be powerful.

   I hope this checklist will aid in your endeavor to forge a meaningful link with the landscape.  Through it you can realize the divine presence in all created things in your own unique way.  For at the end of the day, the whispers we receive are meant for our ears only.  We will hear what our soul most needs to hear at that moment.

   Consider joining Kim Manley Ort and yours truly over Labor Day weekend for a Contemplative Photography retreat on Star Island in the Isles of Shoals off the coast of Portsmouth, New Hampshire.  I will lead a morning teaching in the techniques of Visual Listening and Visual Journaling.  You will be able to practice this concept in a truly unique location aided by a personal guided meditation journal which you will receive.  Check out the link in the right side bar.

Don't Try So Hard....

"What you seek is also seeking you." - Rumi

The Treasures’ Nearness

A man searching for spiritual treasure
could not find it, so he was praying.

A voice inside said, “You were given
an intuition to shoot an arrow
and then dig where it landed,”

but you shot with all your archery skill!
You were told to draw the bow
with only a fraction of your ability.”

What you are looking for
is nearer than the big vein
on your neck! Let the arrow drop.

Don’t exhaust yourself like the philosophers,
who strain to shoot the high arc
of their thought arrows.

The more skill you use, the farther you’ll be
from what you deepest love wants.
-Rumi  

   This is one of my favorite Rumi poems and it speaks to so much of my thoughts on contemplative photography.  It shouldn't be so hard! 

   Sometimes we need to release our sense of control...abdicate some of our mastery of the medium to connect with what we are seeking... deeply contemplative imagery.

   We simply need to reach out and what we are seeking will reach out for us.  We will meet in the middle.  So much of Rumi's wisdom is about letting go.  So much of what I write about on this blog is about becoming empty bowls so the wisdom of the landscape can fill us up.  It is, in fact, the first characteristic of the Photographic Sage and, perhaps, the most important.

   Children have this natural capacity to engage the world as empty bowls.  We need to remember a time when we didn't work so hard on experiencing what the world has to offer us.

   Here is a past blog post that speaks to this very idea.  We need to re-experience the world around us as children do...with their kind of total engagement and lack of expectation.

           DEEP PLAY

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Footnote: The image for today's post is a playful adaptation of one of my frost etchings from the window in my barn. It seemed to illustrate the Rumi notion that what you are seeking is also reaching out, seeking you. I wanted to disengage it from it's black and white world and playfully alter tone and color.  It was a huge leap for me!   I was inspired my Susan Fox's approach to intuitive photography and her willingness to creatively alter images. You can visit her blog at Finding My Bliss.  When I was an art teacher I often encouraged my students to "play with the materials". Thought it was high time for me to practice what I preached!

 

The Secret of Seeing...

At the intersection of light and shadow

      We take our sight for granted.  We wake up, open our eyes, and see.  Training our eye to see "better" is often the obsession of those of us who love photography.  There are so many ways to hone our perceptual skills that it can, and does, fill volumes.  There are many excellent online classes like Kim Manley Ort's Photo by Design, which starts March 3rd.  I've taken a workshop with Kim and can recommend her methods of communicating the subtleties of the subject.  But I don't want to speak about that kind of high intensity seeing...

The literature of illumination reveals this above all: although it comes to those who wait for it, it is always, even to the most practiced and adept, a gift and a total surprise.

-Annie Dillard

   This is an important thing to consider as you try to develop greater perceptual skills.  You must always remain open to the total surprise of the unexpected, the unsought after.  You must endeavor to leave some space in your seeing to allow those unexpected images to come through.  If we try too hard to see only the great and inspiring things, the little and the soulful things often get by us and they may be the most inspiring of all. That is the true secret of seeing...

Blessing

That you will learn to look

and not to look.

That you  will focus your attention

and let your focus fade.

That you will give everything to see,

the give it up

finally to be surprised

by the treasure at your feet.

- Jan L. Richardson

The Scripture of the Landscape...

A Luminous Light

   Contemplative photography means, for me, being gifted images from a landscape that is eager to share its wisdom with those who possess a still and quiet heart and who are willing to sit and just listen.  The images I receive are the scripture of the landscape written not with words but with photons.

Light is the language

 of the landscape.

   Some days the light fairly sings, like this morning under the crab apple tree.  It was like this, soft and luminous, for just a few minutes.  Just long enough for me to record this scripture of light.

   Snow usually gives a sharp white light with stark blue/violet shadows.  It is not easy to photograph.  But this day, there was a warm glow to the snow and there was no glaring contrast.  It seemed to emit light rather than reflect it.  I know that may sound strange but it was the sensation I got as I look out the window at it.

    At moments such as this, I understand why light has always been associated with the spiritual.  Through time and across cultures, light is the supreme scriptural metaphor.  This day I finally "got" James Turrell's statement about the consciousness of light.  You can re-read the original post here.

   After I made this photograph, I just sat and gazed at the scene, afraid to blink for fear it would disappear in that instant.  It did slowly fade away after about five minutes and I was left with such a feeling of profound thankfulness that my camera and I were there to bear witness to the sight.

   I felt that after weeks of in-dwelling this Winter; of embracing both stability and the wonderful Taoist practice of Wu Wei, photographing only what comes to me, I was given an amazing gift in this image.  No, more than the image it was the experience...the photograph is but a translation of the experience and never equal to it.  This will be my Icon of the Experience for the Winter of 2013/2014.  The image that says it all for me.

   Another post on James Turrell's amazing installation at the Guggenheim last year may also provide some further illumination on light....

Other Seeing

 

The Contemplative Masters Series - Minor White

Self Portrait

I have often photographed when I am not in tune with nature but the photographs look as if I had been. So I conclude that something in nature says, 'Come and take my photograph.' So I do, regardless of how I feel.

   This is a series I hope to add to over time because returning to the masters of our practice, be it photography or contemplation, is essential if we are to grow and stretch.  With Minor White, my first and perhaps primary mentor, we have a master of both.  I first mentioned White way back on May 23, 2012 and you can re-read the post here.  High time I re-visited this man's wonderful thoughts and images.

   Minor White's writing is so rich in inspiration it is very difficult to find just one quotation to illustrate his contemplative thought but the one above is one that intensely relates to my form of contemplative photography - forging the co-creative conspiracy with the landscape.  I often experience this whispered message from the landscape as it gently tugs on my perception's sleeve.

Frost on Window by Minor White

   I think that many people regard contemplation as a solitary and solely interior conversation.  I, on the other hand, see it as an external dialogue with the natural world.  I not only see what is before me as it is, in its purity and clarity, but I try to listen for its subtle message for my soul.

   If it is, as Carl Jung suggests, that the soul speaks to us through images then I feel the landscape communicates to our soul through the eyes of our hearts.  It is a circular thing.  Without this circularity of interaction, true contemplative images cannot occur for me.  And it is, as White alludes to in this quotation, sometimes a thing that happens on a more intuitive rather than a conscious level.  We may not be totally aware at all times when it is happening but we clearly recognize it when we see it in our images.  I prefer to keep some of the process mysterious.  The root of the word "mystery" comes from the Greek mystes, "to keep silence" and there is great power in silence.

   Simply being in the presence of Nature we will be silently drawn into its mystery and wisdom.  The more we remain open to the possibility of encounter the more likely it will happen.  So the next time you go out into the landscape, turn off the transmitter of your judgmental ego, become the in tune receiver of the landscape's message and see what you are gifted.