It was in this haze, between dusk and stars, linen and skin, my life a blur; it was here that I created this little image, to heal, to watch the water ripple away from my stone, and let the strange birds fly away, to clear my mind. Healing is, for me, something I do in my own strange ways; wrapping my head in yarn and tying myself to a tree is an example. They are moments carved in my mind each one, the days I make the turbulent thing that is my mind into a reality; sometimes the only days that the winds calm and I can see again. Solace in creating, rain upon soil, hands against sun; healing.
This image has been something of excitement and contempt when I look at it. I made it simply, me and the yarn and the tree, so post processing was a breeze because of that simplicity, and it formed into what I saw in my mind with ease. I felt entirely pleased with it, and I still very much do, a fact unachievable at times. Unannounced, the idea walked into my mind a few weeks ago, without ceremony or brainstorming, as if I had expected it, as if was a normality for unknown impossibles to walk in and sit down; well, perhaps it is a normality of a sort, but I am accustomed to it being a bit more formal, known to each other instead of strangers. It has been from the beginning that I have been wondering why it has left me without proper words to use concerning it. Many times I have sat down to describe what it is I thought about the photo, or about life, or about anything concerning the concept of thoughts growing or identity's twisted or constricted puppets; but soon it became something that was wordless, blank pages and spilled ink and such.
Just when I was beginning to think that it would forever be hidden away in my vault of unshared
works, the winds and the rains came, bringing life back to the soils of the earth. Awash in sodden greys, the world letting the ode to winter come down, open palms and bare feet. I walked in the rain when I could, sneakers laced up, coat zipped, and the big umbrella with me. I didn't use it much; I like to feel the rain on my face you see. This warranted some strange looks from passerby's, but I didn't mind; I wasn't really paying attention anyways. It was amongst the stones wet and the gutters flooded and the boughs and branches shivering that I prayed much about things of the now and of the future, pleading with God to give me the words He wished me to speak and write. The rain, I have found, is not all the time secluded to heal just the earth. Wave upon wave, it can wash the mind just the same, as it has done for me and this photo.
So, the photo. I have often thought that the color red, when inline with a photo like this, would constitute the like of things such as power or blood or death. But I realized, it doesn't always have to be so. Nobility, strength, honor, sorrow it can be too, the like I think might be in this photo somewhere. It is many things to many people, I have found, but of my opinion, it is about the difficulties of growth. I know as an artist, it can seem all blood and war when it comes to growing sometimes, constricted minds wanting to be free and the like. But I have found that, like the rain which falls in time to the direction of the clouds and winds and such, we must not rush ourselves, but to have the strength to fall where we are directed, to grow where we are planted, with all it's growing pains.
As you can probably imagine, this photo was a peculiarity of hilarious maneuvering to achieve. My sister had to assist in the clicking of the shutter and flipping the screen around so I could peer through my wrapped up face to see if I was where I should be as I was preoccupied with, well, being constrained to the tree and all. Creating with others around is, in itself, an amazing thing that can produce much laughter at times; bonding in the ridiculous. As was the case with this photo. Holding that simple pose was harder than one would think, much less keeping a straight face with a giggling sister taking the picture; indeed falling victim to the glorious odd day that this was, of creating beauty and sorrow that forever bend and fold back with each other, forever growing, forever the same; just like the rain.
So, here are a few links to some great things for you this week of the in between Christmas and New Years.
~ This wreath tutorial by the blog Local Milk. I have always wanted to make a wreath, and maybe someday I will, but if I do, or when I do, I would want them to be in the somewhat likeness of the ones in that blog post.
~ Another thing of inspiration by Beth Kirby of Local Milk (what can I say, she's awesome)- These Earl Grey Marshmallows laced with Salted Lapsang Souchong Caramel that look entirely amazing and if I ever attempt different things that are awesome in the year 2017, I want one of those things to be these marshmallows.
~ Okay, I must say that I am not a food blogger. I don't develop recipes and I don't post weekly of my various baking try's and do's and don'ts because, quite frankly, I have no sense of those things. But I am inspired, for my art and my mind and my creative inspiration, of things that are of a different life I live, one where I dwell in cottages and countrysides and practice arts of living simply. And that is why I take photos of such things, both still life and fine art; they feed and cultivate one another, both of lives I live in my mind, both of the life I live of the present. And so, this Chai Tea Hot Chocolate recipe by Nathanial Crawford is of those things that inspire both my mind in photos and my small kitchen adventures in recipe.
~ If you want a pretty cool tutorial on how to Photoshop a person in the middle of an ocean, than this is for you, a tutorial by the wonderful Brooke Shaden.
~ This image, in particular, has inspired me greatly as of late, by the incredibly cool Rosie Hardy.
~ Lastly, and another piece of inspiration from Brooke Shaden, is this photo and blog post has been one of my favorites this year.