Back to the Bones of my Photography Craft

“This isn’t my season for photography.”

I heard those words come out of my mouth when I was talking to Karen Rexrode, my friend, fellow artist, and manager of Art a la Carte Gallery in Occoquan, Virginia. I have my first “featured artist” show at the gallery scheduled on June 13 and was questioning whether I would have new work to display given my busy spring schedule.

Hearing those words felt like eating a bite of food that had gone bad. Something sat in my stomach that wasn’t good for me.

I had swallowed a limiting thought!

To be fair, six years have passed since I took and shared a photo every day from January 1 – December 31, 2014. From about June onwards, all of those photos were either from my garden or outside on my travels. Rain, snow, sleet, hail didn’t stop me. Some of my favorite shots that year were during dormancy.

I spent a brief moment berating myself for getting soft and stuck in a rut with big, vibrant floral shots bursting with color. Then I shifted into intention, my place of highest purpose and efficiency.

So I’ve been getting back to the basics. Back to the subjects that brought me so much joy during the dormant seasons. Finding beauty in the form and stories the image evokes for me, rather than flashy color.

A Mindful Process

Since my photography journey began as a simple extension of my mindfulness practice, it feels like coming home to be back with intention, bundled up against the cold, my tripod perched next to a stand of dormant shrubs.

Looking hard for something interesting. Then realizing you’re looking too hard. You soften your gaze. Get very still. Feel your feet on the earth. Sink into the quiet space between breaths.

You spot something out of the corner of your eye — a tiny knot hanging in space. This is tripod and macro lens work; absolute stillness is required when it comes to capturing the tiny sculpture.

Which curve deserves the focus? Which depth of field to choose? How are the clouds impacting the light? Will they shift? (Yes, of course. They always shift.)

How could the vine look so still with the naked eye when in reality, when you get in real close, it’s trembling or swinging or jerking in a breeze you can’t feel? Like a thought or emotion or physical pain.

But you are ready for the wait. Your stillness skills are strong. You know that everything is temporary — stillness as well as movement. It’s just a matter of waiting with quiet confidence that the moment will come.

Coming back again and again to focus, sometimes with the remote shutter release held in your teeth if you need both hands for the camera. Pressing the shutter with a finger would, without question, create too much camera shake. You need your whole body, your whole awareness, for this work.

First Results

I’ll be building up my new supply of images from which to choose for the June show. Your input would be much appreciated! In the meantime, I invite you to intensify your awareness of the beauty of this dormant time of year AND the exciting signs of renewal!