Exhibition: Tell Me A Story

A huge thank you to @HenryHorenstein for selecting two of my images for the upcoming exhibition at the Atlanta Photography Group Gallery exhibition, Tell Me A Story. Join us at the opening reception and juror talk next Thursday, September 15, from 6pm-9pm. Mr. Horenstein will also be speaking about his work, and signing books and select prints on Saturday, September 17th, from 4pm-7pm.

Poetry in Nature

Tall Flatsedge in my garden. I’ve been watching these “weeds” grow in the patio outside of my bedroom and have thought about pulling them up. Then today, I looked again and I decided they were worth keeping.

Finding the Night Sky on the Ground

Hanging on by a Tenuous Thread

A lone Crepe Myrtle blossom, which must have fallen from the tree above, became entangled in a spider’s web and was twirling around in the gentle breeze by a thread. I thought it was beautiful and I took my time to enjoy the whimsy of this encounter. 

Finding Beauty Among Pests

The Cephalotaxus in our front yard is covered with what appears to be webs from spider mites. Not only do the webs offer protection to this tiny spider and their eggs, but they captured droplets of water that shone like jewels as the sun was rising. Now that I have learned how destructive these spider mites are, I will have to remove all the webbing and the beauty along with it.

In Memoriam

This past week I lost my beloved Aunt Hildy in a tragic accident. She was a woman whose love of life was as big as her love for family and all others whose paths she crossed. She was also a woman of great faith and believed that when her time was up on earth, she would be reunited with loved ones she had lost. As we were driving home from the funeral yesterday, I glanced up at the sky and took this picture. I don’t know if it was a sign or just a beautiful moment. Perhaps it doesn’t matter. But Aunt Hildy shone as radiantly as the sun and will continue to do so in our hearts.

Celestial Scene

This is the scene that greeted me after my morning walks in New Mexico. My guest room was transformed into a celestial landscape as the light from the rising sun squeezed through the blinds in the window facing east.

Full Moon Over La Vida Llena

This month the Kinship Photography Collective I belong to is exploring the theme, Planet, which is inspired by a collection of essays and poems published by the Center for Humans and Nature. Some members are using a homemade pinhole camera to track the path of the sun. There was also a discussion about setting the camera out to create an image of the first full moon after the summer solstice on July 13th. Since I was in New Mexico visiting my dad at the time and did not have my pinhole camera, I opted to capture the event with my digital camera. From the parking lot of the retirement community where my dad lives, I watched the supermoon rise over the Sandia Mountains and slowly emerge from an embankment of clouds. I was mesmerized. If any of the residents saw me in the parking lot with my camera pointed toward the sky over the course of that hour, they may have wondered what the heck I was doing out there, and that perhaps, I had escaped from the memory care unit.

Sunset Over the Pacific

I recently returned from a trip to Northern California and had the opportunity to spend time in breathtakingly beautiful places. This scene, in particular, has stayed with me at a visceral level. The winds were blowing at about 50-60mph. I’ve never had to battle such powerful forces. It was frightening and exhilarating at the same time. I was staggering while trying to maintain my balance and it was impossible to keep my camera steady. Yet, somehow I managed to capture an image that expresses my feeling of awe and gratitude for the scene before me that day.

In Kinship with the Sun

Until recently, I did not have the language to describe the deeper connection I have forged with the natural world over the last two years. During our lockdown phase of the pandemic, our family would venture into the woods to hike on the weekends. This was one place we felt safe visiting outside of our home. But it was also the space where I was nurtured by the trees, flowers, streams, birds, and all the beauty that surrounded me. When I entered the woods, I felt as if I was being welcomed into the home of dear friends.

Early on, during the pandemic, I connected with a supportive and generous community of photographers from around the world, through the Six Feet Photography Project. Last month, Six Feet launched the Kinship Photography Collective. This project and the formation of this Collective were inspired by a five-volume series of books entitled Kinship: Belonging in a World of Relations published by the Center for Humans and Nature. “These five Kinship volumes—Planet, Place, Partners, Persons, Practice—offer essays, interviews, poetry, and stories of solidarity, highlighting the interdependence that exists between humans and nonhuman beings…that explore our deep interconnections with the living world.” One of the authors, Enrique Salmon asserts that, “life in any environment is viable only when humans view their surroundings as kin; that their mutual roles are essential for their survival.” This idea resonated with me as I have been drawn to explore my connections to both the human and nonhuman world and the role I might play in caring for our communities. More to come.