Tag Archives: photography

writings on photography or photographs incorporated into poetry or other writing

:: all photographs on this blog are by Janice Sandeen

Twine of Earth and Sky ~ Bless of Being

 

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The tides turn and turn, shifting

but still there is little to scour

 

Flotsam is not splayed about

upon the beach-like shores

 

Yet light glints off a found face

sparking brilliantly its presence

 

This seeing is by an eye observed within

of the heart cracked with a new interiority

 

What of this seeing  when it doesn’t match

any concentrated sense of what it is to exist

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Does that suggest that this light, the glint

from within, is false or imagined somehow?

 

Heartily no! This shine is even brighter yetIMG_20150729_193458476

as it is seeing that has gained its illumination

 

We’ve somehow always known we see partially

whether we look closely or beg far-sightedness

 

What once remained mute in its invisibility

cascading like dark matter in vast space

 

Now is our epigenetic wonder and remaking

solace of grace and forthrightness of splendor

 

 

At Two O’Clock

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The clouds moving, nearly
Imperceptibly closer than,
I move to the east side

The eaves shelter from
More than the rains
Good Samaritan design

Noon stands out acting
The Prima Dona except
In loneliness and reaches

Then to One and Two
For company inviting
Them early for tea

Some days no one wants
Near and turns away to
Find the most ready refuge

Awaiting their turn
Their moment in the sun
Patience is a virtue

Blessings come to those
And yet… the winds pick up
Darker under bellies seen

Two O’clock is inconsistent
It’s her way or her luck of the draw
Maybe both perhaps neither

Today she was thinking
About that tea invitation
Chameleon writ large

Seeking anonymity in
The heat of the afternoon
Hoping to get off the hook

For what others have
Come to expect of her
That “time of the day”

And yet it’s all so fleeting
Yesterday’s invitation
A glimmer, is not Today’s

El Rito – Kagyu Mila Guru Stupa campground

8-16-14 2:59pm

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Virtual Blog Tour and the Sometimes Perhaps

Welcome. Thank you for following the thread that brought you here.

The notion of a virtual blog tour landed here upon being sparked by my dear friend and colleague Daniel Ari, who made the initial suggestion that I might like to participate in such a tour, following his blog tour post (a poet friend and colleague had invited him.) I felt the spark land and since then the question has been did the spark become an ember and did the ember survive? Or perhaps another question might be was it a virtual spark and does it, now, have what it takes to light this contemplative, virtual fire? Perhaps. Shall we see?

What is not a perhaps is the whole-hearted conspirator I find in Daniel Ari, the person, being, and creator afire. I invite you to visit his blog Fights With Poems, as long as you have more than a moment to explore and drop in. Daniel’s projects are a many (writing, publishing, teaching, collective blogging and more), his stretch is broader than most and not confined by his idea of himself, if I can say so. One project of note is his forthcoming book, One Way to Ask, a book of querons, a poetry form of Daniel’s originality, inspiration, and making. For this book, he is collaborating on many levels with artists and other co-conspirators, which has Daniel’s signature of ever-ready-to-remake-oneself with each sitting, writing, and re-versing. It has been my honor and stimulation both to be included in amongst the co-conspirators included in this book. I look forward to the publication of One Way to Ask. 

And thank you, Daniel, for inviting me once again into territory that I may not otherwise find myself in if it weren’t for you and our connection! (Another such invitation from Daniel brought numerous years of my participation in his collective blog, IMUNURI. Currently Daniel has 131 submissions there, I have 57, and ten other poets have submitted their works/poems there, as well.)

 

A photographic interlude as the blog tour continues…

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The Virtual Blog Tour comes with these party-c-pant questions (putting on these party pants is one way to participate!)

1) What am I working on?

I don’t know what I am working on until I am working on it. Even then, while I am “working on” something, it is more precisely working me or opening out through me or pondering within this persona/non-persona. It doesn’t seem to be my way or mode (at this time) to know what I am working on. What does come, at times, is some kind of knowing being expressed through words on paper or words being typed on a computer or iPod screen. Question #4 seems to be creeping into #1.

2) How does my work differ from others of its genre?

Similarly, I am not aware of my poetry and writing being of a specific genre type. If you know otherwise, please let me know! Ha! What comes through as poetry seems to be unique to itself. I will say something that does come to say around this question: the poetry I write comes from or via direct experiencing, an internal voicing or somatic experiencing as the words present themselves. I would not say that I don’t think about what I write, but something like that. It seems to me that I am ready when something seems to come through and have easiness of expression as words in some kind of structure close to what we call a poem. Poems as awareness as felt sense, perhaps.

3) Why do I write what I do?

“Why do I do what I do?” as a question seems to come out of some unseen or unconscious motivation to seek security (or need to know) when security of that kind is simply non-essential. So, for me, there is not an need to answer such a question. The poems ponder enough on their own and simply get written (or not.)

4) How does my writing process work?

There are tastes of this question in the previous answers 1, 2, and 3. What else I might share here is that there is some kind of seeding and then a gestation period and then, perhaps, a kind of birthing in the writing. The writing usually takes my full attention and is something that moves through and I respond in the now. Often there is the anticipation of something before it finds its form as words on paper, mostly as poetry, sometimes as contemplative writing in prose, sometimes in photography or a combination of the aforementioned.

The writing is a kind of direct experience, as in I am present for something as it is felt and expresses as words. The photography, too, is a kind of calling or marking of direct experience and has a numinous quality within it. What gets expressed, conveyed, felt, or sensed through the sharing of these, I also do not know what that might be. It is like breathing for me. Or at least that is how it comes today to write about such things.

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Monsoon skies in El Rito north of Questa, New Mexico ~ July 2014

And finally, the blog tour may continue in a similar fashion to above, if I have other bloggers to invite for you to check out with blog tour posts of their own. However, I found that I did not have currently active bloggers to invite!  So I invited both a poet/artist and a songwriter/musician/poet to start their own blogs such that they could be included with accolades in this Virtual Blog Tour.

Perhaps they will do just that and at least one new blogger will be featured here in short time. I will update this entry with their URL and some of what inspired me to invite them to participate. Perhaps.

 

This One

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This one  showing up

Rises on the view

Looking out over open horizons

Curious and curiouser

And I, what is I am, watching

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I stand in your company

The stories pour and pour

Forth that great big vessel

Of a heart uncontainable

But wishing to be contained

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Who has the story or does

The story have us intermingled

Woven in and out of the weft

Of being thread of becoming

Such a delicate thread it is

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However it is  it is a gift of

Heart of love of seeing

Beauty speaks through these

Strings strum simultaneously

Tremolo sostenuto entangle

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Trust Fortitude Misfortune Joy

All gather ’round the table

Made just for these and Two

Others autonomous resplendent

Everything celebrates This One

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“Will you let me love you?”  Awry

The question shines like a diamond

Many faceted and subtle in its stark

Beauty because Love has no bounds

And knows this source from its core

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No permission is needed as What Is

Is simply What Is ~ how many times

Does saying that make it so? It seems

Easier to speak the unspeakable

Than freeing that which is Unbound

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Photo Shoot :: dance of innocents

If I could see with the eyes
I See with ~ the wonder and gravity
Of What Is would be deeply evident yet
Needing no evidence nor questioning

And yet the power of those eyes
Is that they don’t see in the plainest
Of ways, but as the ordinarily extraordinary
Depth of field without f-stops

Nothing captured for posterity, contrasting
All sense of judgment with the luminosity
Of vibrancy such that even the Camera
Obscura lays wait, no pin prick necessary

As bubbles burst upon forming, projections
Simply do not arise, people do not gather for or against
And even places do not serve as some kind of Dominion
Nor as shoving off, point of departure

How odd that our lives seem to balance
Between a collection of events and things
As we surround ourselves with tangible markers
Of the intangible. What a task

We ask of the humble traces of earth and sky
When their very nature is just to be
No claim on anything, but abiding and giving
Nonetheless. Purpose perhaps but no need.

for James Wheeler (in asking to take photos) and Peter Kater (for Dance of the Innocents)

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land cloud earth air water and photography

slope ridge line light

Photography –a medium I first explored over three decades ago and now find myself coming back to again, is compelling. It is the appearance or illusion of what was seen –not seen by the naked eye but by the camera, as Garry Winogrand so aptly noted as he discussed photography while being filmed himself for a documentary on photography.

We can look at photography in another way, not the way the camera ‘looks’ at the world in that split second aperture opening, but the way the human being and the human eye explores and glances, focusing or not focusing at something. Each photograph I take asks, if it can be said that way, to be looked at differently. In the photo above, for the body/brain there is a gestalt here. There are worlds within worlds in this image in the way I experience it. There is abstract beauty, there is light, dance, majesty, tenderness, softness, a deep relax. I love what seems to me the visitors, the trees high up on the ridge drawing my attention and intersecting the ridge line, riding the slope of this arid mountainside.

I love the scale shift in detail from the foreground to the very distant space of the ridge on into the sky. The feel of the day that drew me out into its changeability is touched here in this photograph, for me. Something breathes more easily within me in the presence of this light and shadow illusion of a land and cloud scape. So where might we say this landscape exists?

As invisible

as an updraft, the eye soars

as the osprey’s flight

The Land of Clouds

The other ‘land’

A new land was visible, as well as undeniably felt today. This land was a land of clouds, in perfect synergy with the geological, earthen land masses that appear so permanent and reliable. The cloud cover was ever changing today, reliably so. The play of light and shadow cast exponentially greater than the day or two before when I took in the simple play of afternoon light and shadow on the slopes of the Adams Gulch trail north of Ketchum (where I’ve been communing with animals for the last three weeks.)

It was as if I had arrived in a wholly new place. The clouds joining with, marrying, in a deep interplay with the curves and slopes of the mountains and hills and creek valleys everywhere around me creating a new order of scape. I was drawn to capture the shapes and the light and the feel of these ineffable contours again and again and again. Everywhere I turned, yet another land to move with, to be wafted by, lifted up while my feet remained with the ground below.

Dwelling place in the clouds

Where is it we dwell, truly? There is only one small portion of ground that our physical form rests down, touches down, meets contact with and makes real that place. All other aspects of space are perceived, even if they can be mapped, recorded, seemed to be held real ~ all these are simply a pointing to. Such is the magic of the cloud land or cloudscape, no maps are made of these.

Hiroshige Homage

In that way, clouds are akin to so many other changing thus not permanent things, not expected to remain the same. What is it about cloud nature that our brains so resonate with their phenomena? Are we not so much closer to cloud than steel or glass or even wood? We are so changeable by so, so many aspects and factors of life that shape us, constrict us, show us off, dissolve us, heighten and sometimes perturb us.

Permanently Changeable: Sky Dance

I will meet you here

We are at home in the sky

There no ladder climbs