Rakusribut shoots images like this with her Olympus PEN P3/ iPhone/ Canon eos 450D and spends her weekends alternately outdoors, catching up with friends and family, and indoors with her sweetheart and their 4 dogs and 2 cats, the blinds drawn shut as a request to outsiders not to disturb.
Rakusribut can be found online at any of her three blogs: Exploring with my Camera, iPhoneography Unplugged, or Hipstamoments.
What does your weekending look like this weekend? Do share!
There is nothing more special than gathering around the table with loved ones; sharing hand crafted food & engaging conversation. We should celebrate how grateful we are do this. Recently I’ve been acknowledging the ordinary kitchen table, and the time spent there everyday.
Please share today how you gather around the table, what food you’re sharing, how you decorate and what gathering around food means to you.
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On other note, the fabulous Epiphanie bags (I love my Lyric!) are giving away one place on my ecourse Creating Time Capsules. If you’d like to win, go over to their blog later today and see what it’s all about. Competition runs till 22nd March. Good luck!
Cats are complex creatures and mine is no exception. I’ve known Roxy for several years by now and I’m still puzzled by her behavior. She is unpredictable and moody most of the time, but sweet and attention-starved when I least expect it (or have time for it). I wish I could read her mind, but since I don’t have any psychic abilities I’ll settle for using my camera to get inside her head. Staring at a photo like the one above, I feel like I can see right into her tortured, teen-angsty soul.
Don’t you wish you could read your pet’s mind? Leave a picture in the comments accompanied by your best guess as to what they were thinking the moment you snapped the shot.
Do you have anything that holds magic?
I use the term loosely when I say “magic”. I mean something that inspires you, something that makes you feel better or something that you treasure. The magical items in our lives often come as gifts from someone or are items that we have found. They are things that have been kept for a long time, by ourselves or by others. They are often old, but not always. They can be jewelry, fabric, art or handwritten letters.
Recently, when digging through my boxes of stuff, I came across this sand dollar. I remembered that it had been given to me by a traveling stranger that I met one night at a coffee shop that I frequented while I was in college. I couldn’t remember very much else, so I dug through my drawer of journals until I found an entry from January 1996 in which I had written down the details of the encounter.
The traveling stranger was named Julian and he had picked up the sand dollar on a beach in San Quintin, Baja. He told me that my power was to see the truth and he told me a Lakota story of the Four Directions; the West is black and represents voice, the East is red and represents land, the South is yellow and represents the mind and body and the North is white and represents togetherness.
Now, the younger, naive version of me was enthralled by this story and took it at face value. The older, wiser version of me went straight to the Internet to fact check. I was able to find out that there is a Lakota story of the Four Directions. Many Native Americans tell the story differently, with different colors and attributes ascribed to each direction, but the essence of the story remains the same. It is about balance. I was also able to confirm that you can find sand dollars on the beach in San Quintin, Baja California and they look exactly like this one, small and without the five key holes that are typical of sand dollars. It seems this mysterious stranger was not just giving me lines.
I feel very lucky to have received these gifts, the story and the sand dollar, all those years ago. It was at a time in my life when I was seeking direction and I needed some guidance. I think it is fitting and appropriate that I am now a photographer. I am so glad that I kept the sand dollar and that I wrote down the details of the encounter with Julian, in a way they mean even more to me now.
I keep the sand dollar wrapped in tissue paper and tucked into a glass jar on my shelf. It is delicate and needs protecting. Every time I take it out to look at it, sand falls out of the hole in the back. It sparkles and makes me think of the pixie dust in Peter Pan. The sand dollar is full of lines and the flower-like imprint on the front is amazing. I try to put as much sand as I can back inside when I put it away. A little bit is lost each time though, falling into my lap or stuck on my fingers. It is the price paid for a little inspiration.
When I hold this magical item now, I am inspired to tell stories and to take pictures. I am inspired to share the truth of what I see and experience with others. I remember the unusual person that gave it to me and I wonder where he is now and what he is doing. I imagine he is still telling stories and sharing his wisdom with the world. I think of him as an ancient medicine man, traveling the world, looking for people to heal and inspire. I hope that I can be as wise and generous with others as he was with me.
Today, I would love to see pictures of your magic items, those things in your life that are comforting and special, and to hear the story of how it came into your possession, how long you have had it, and what it means to you.
Image and words courtesy of guest blogger, photographer and artist Leslie Fandrich.
Spring is life
Spring is hope
So is love and
happiness.
Spring renews.
Without spring,
life is forlorn.
Spring is nostalgia
after a bitter storm.
Put spring in your heart.
-Spring, by Archie Greenidge
Spring , in all it’s tangible newness, has always held a sense of renewal to me. I can hear it in the way the birds sing their melodies with the rising sun and see it in the new growth that is starting to show on my favorite tree. With the passing of my best friend at summer’s end last year, the fall and winter were especially long for me. It was a choice I made, choosing to cocoon myself with my family and a few close friends but it’s time to shed the winter and let the spring do it’s healing magic. So bring on the sunshine and do your thing, springtime. I’m ready for you.
Today, rejoice in the new season and share a little of your springtime with us.
Many moons ago I wrote a blog on website for moms called Club Mom (now called Café Mom). It was called Picture This. I met a number of you from that blog. Remember? Well, I sure do. It’s where I first began this chapter of my life…of gathering with other women online. Women who loved photography and who (like me) wanted to share images and words about what mattered most to us. Who knew that the chapter at Picture This would turn into a novel which led to sequels and spin off stories such as my personal blog, the Picture Series and Shutter Sisters.
Every once in a while I muse about those days. I remember not really understanding what a blog was. I recall why I began a blog in the first place. I remember things I wrote about, pictures I shared and ways I enjoyed engaging with the women that found each other and came together. I can’t help but ruminate on all the things that have changed since then; like digital photography becoming mainstream, photo editing becoming a part of the process and how shooting photos with your phone is totally normal (I never saw that one coming). But a lot of things stayed the same. We’re all still here. Together. Gathering in a space where our stories, our photographs, our passions matter and are honored. It makes me really happy. I don’t know where I’d be without it. Without you.
The thing about looking back is that you remember things you miss about the old days. One of those things came to me recently in a quick flash. Best Shot Monday. I wonder if anyone else remembers that. I used to host it each Monday at Picture This and then on my personal blog. It was a place to share a weekly shot that you held dear. The one shot, above all others that you celebrated that week. No theme, no rules, no restrictions. Just an image you loved. Your Best Shot.
My featured image today is my Best Shot from this week. Maybe it’s because I used a brand new photo app to process it (hello Snapseed!) or maybe it’s the whimsical subject matter or maybe it’s because I captured it at the Instagram meetup where I spent time strolling and shooting with some awesome sisters on a picture perfect sunny Southern California day. Probably a little of all of these things but it really doesn’t matter. I just love it. And that’s what a Best Shot Monday should be about. A photograph that you took, that you love.
Today, let’s look through last week’s archives and pull something out that makes your heart sing. Share today, your Best Shot with all of us! I can think of no better way to start the week than by celebrating our shots!
Cherish Bryck shoots images like this with her Canon 5D and spends her weekends with her family.
Cherish can be found online at Cherish Bryck Photography, on Flickr, Facebook, Twitter (@CherishBryck) and Pinterest.
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Congratulations to Beth Reynolds who won the random drawing for the Two Takes giveaway. Yay! And thank you all for your comments on Bindu Wiles’ post. It never ceases to amazing us how compassionate and caring this community is. What a gift we have in one another.
In the Beyond Layers group we’ve been sharing whisper images this week. I’m amazed at the beautiful photos one simple word has evoked.
When I think of whisper I think of light, airy, white…….a gentle breeze…. I think of the quiet voice I often hear in my head…. soft whispers of a new idea…….or a quiet warning…’kim, something is not quite right‘ Over the years I’ve learned to listen to the whispers…. It’s been a good thing….
How ’bout you? What thoughts and emotions does the word whisper stir for you? I’d love to see a whisper image…. Please share with us today.
Two years ago I visited Haiti for the first time, as a woman. Let me clarify, I have always been a girl, have all the parts and PMS to prove it but something happened to me when I made the decision to visit Haiti. The woman in me emerged.
I spent my toddler years in Haiti, yet when I decided to travel there in 2010, it had been more than 25 years since I had visited. It started with an ambitious list I drafted for myself to accomplish in one years time. My first order of business was to learn more about my culture, “become more Haitian”, so to speak. This small task had a sub-goal, instructions if you will, which would make the task easier. Underneath I wrote “reconnect with family” mind you family living in Haiti to whom I had been estranged from since my late teens. I was convinced that it would be that simple: travel to Haiti + connect with estranged family = be more Haitian. As the universe usually does, it responded to my request in a big way. It shook the world, the earth cracked open and so did my heart. The earthquake came and my fate was sealed.
Sometime before I left, I spoke with my aunt who visits the island frequently. I admitted I was afraid of Haiti, of Haitians. I was afraid that I wouldn’t know what to say, to do or even how to act. I had no idea what to bring or how I would be received. She, in her stern voice, reminded me that I was going to bring love and I was going to receive love, in this, there was nothing to fear. She was right.
I flew alone to Port-au-Prince. My aunts greeted me at the airport. We drove through the broken streets and I inhaled the scents of my country. Immediately, I was comfortable and in love with these women, my people, myself. I was eager to be out of the car so I could sit with these loves, and have my heart reflected back to me. Finally the moment came when we three could gather in the small seating area of the makeshift refuge and sat and shared. In that moment, my everything was everything. The women of Haiti welcomed me to see myself, to understand what it means to be Haitian and to be a woman of delicious brown color. They cooked for me, they shared stories, they laughed at me and with me. They inspired me. I have never been more clear about my core values. I knew right away that I was blessed. Over the weeks of my visit, I met many wonderful people. I spent time with family and made new friends. Always the women would hold my heart in all it’s vulnerability and teach the girl in me how to be a woman. These aunts and mothers and sisters and daughters carry the hurt of Haiti and they bestow the joy of Haiti too. I was and am so proud to be a woman and to have the honor to carry the words, the wealth and the wisdom of whole cultures and generations.
Today is International Women’s Day! Let’s celebrate ourselves in gratitude of the many women who inspire us to wonder, to try earnestly and to welcome possibilities. Share an image of yourself with women in your life that have taught you to honor yourself.
Images and words by the wonderful Myriam Loeschen.
Having come to the hopefully, middle of my life, the question of How to Live? has never loomed larger. In fact, it has bubbled up from within me this 47th year of my life not as a whisper or a nudge, but as a volcano/tsunami/earthquake/tumbling end-over-end-in-deep-space-without-the-astronaut-rope-to-the-mother-ship, that has left me feeling deeply disoriented, spiritually bankrupt, and quite frankly, in an anguishing pain.
A life-long hater of all things cigarettes, I actually bought a pack one day recently, thinking I should take up smoking. I have nearly gone insane from emotional pain in the last 10 months with the last 3 months being particularly horrendous. And I mean literally insane.
I have spent roughly the last 30 years working on myself. In that time, through hard work, a variety of therapies and spiritual work, I gratefully managed to have broken the cycle of violence, addiction and aggression in myself that is my family tree. And yet here I am, wondering if there is any Thing or One or Power out there in the universe who cares personally about my life and my existence.
I have developed an intimate relationship with Despair this year. I believe this is what the philosophers officially call an Existential Crisis.
Other people would probably just say I need to buck up, get over it, forget the recent past, and move on. And maybe I do need to do all those things. But telling someone who is grieving, lost, desperate, emptied out of things they knew, is like telling a pig to fly. Sometimes, the spiritual practice we have cultivated or had for many years ceases to be effective. We find ourselves simply unable to go on the way we have been. We crave comfort for the blows we have received. We want respite from the torture of heart and mind. We crave wholeness. We wish we could laugh like we did in the old days.
I know enough not to strike out to try and make myself feel better. Staying still and quiet can sometimes feel like you are turning an ocean liner on a dime. It is a Herculean effort and one that awakens me each night at 3.30 am. I often feel I can find no way out of the emptiness and betrayal and injustice of it all.
What I am describing is the lesson I am learning at mid-life which is how to accept life on life’s terms. To surrender to the way things have gone, which is not to say I agree or like them, or think some people have treated me decently, but rather to say, the question of How to Live? begins with surrender and acceptance. These are not easy things for me. I kick and scream and cry and wail. I feel as if I will die.
There are things going on in my life right now that I have no idea how to accept. They are too big, too unfair, too upsetting. They turn my stomach to acid and upset me so much I usually make a sound out loud.
I’d like to share with you one of two things I have discovered as a way through the process of grief, loss, being emptied out, disoriented, betrayal, being lied too, humiliated…. whatever your particular heart pain is, and toward acceptance and serenity (the other one is for another post another time!).
You are either holding it in your hand, on your lap, or staring into it right now. It is your camera phone and your computer.
Bet you didn’t expect that right?!
Well, neither did I.
Here’s what I have found: Our refuge lies in our ability to express ourselves and in our ability to lose ourselves in the world around us.
Every day now, I go out into the world with my iPhone and look at people and light and the environment. I have found that walking is one of the only things that soothes my pain. So I have been walking all over NYC taking pictures. Sometimes I am out there for hours and hours. Well, actually, I am usually out there for hours and hours! (I recently had to get a bigger external hard drive to store all my photos) I don’t know if it’s because I am getting older, or just my particular state these days, but the quality of light has been indescribably beautiful to me at certain times of day.
When I take photos with my iPhone, I am absorbed into the act of looking and seeing and therefore forget about my pain and myself. It is the most magical occurrence. I lose track of time and feel a reprieve unlike any I have known. The world goes on even though I often feel I cannot. The human condition is right there in front of me. The colors and gestures and surprises that catch my eye deliver me. My perspective is literally changed—it’s expanded, softened, and moves into a sort of hope. Which is another way to say I have received a little bit of acceptance and serenity from my camera and the act of looking.
As I write this, it has been 10 days since I had to put the love of my life, my 14-year-old dog, Rumi, down. She had been failing in health for a couple months and when her quality of life crossed a certain threshold, I didn’t want her to feel one more ounce of suffering. She was put down at home, I held her in my arms, and she was surrounded by four exceptional, gentle, women who cried along with me and helped me function afterwards. I have been deeply affected by her death, and had to leave my apartment in the days after, her absence was so enormous and felt like the last straw in a string of deep losses.
It’s sometimes the right thing to get on a plane and fly to the sun and beach, which is what I did.
The reason I tell you this about my sweet dog, is because the day after she died, I woke up and went to get her food out of the fridge like I have for all those years and realized she wasn’t here anymore and that I would never be able to see her or kiss her or hold her again. I had no idea how to manage my feelings. I was choking I was crying so hard—and then I heard this voice inside that said, Write to her.
So, being the Moleskine hoarder that I am, I walked over to my desk and opened a brand new one and began in my favorite black marker, Dear Rumi, I miss you so much… It’s been years since I hand wrote in a journal, but I have written to her every day since she left and I feel so close to her. My point here is not the Moleskine. My point is the writing. The pouring out of feelings to someone you think will listen and who loves you so much and never wants you to hurt. We simply cannot bear these things alone.
We are never lost to ourselves when we take refuge in our creative expression. There is deep comfort to be felt there.
All this is to say, I hope you will join Tracey Clark and I for our month-long photography course, Two Takes which is about using photography to support, sustain, and comfort you in your life.
Which, for me, is another way to say, How to Live?
Images and words from photographer and writer Bindu Wiles. You can find more about Bindu on her blog or find her on Instagram @binduwiles.
Share with us today the image(s) in which you have found refuge and you’ll be entered to win a random drawing for a complementary registration for Two Takes. Leave your comment by midnight EST 3/8. The winner will be announced on Friday 3/9.