Spring

Well, I'm stumbling my way through having this blog; two months is too long for a new entry! That said, I have to believe that whatever it is we do, regardless of how many times we stop and start, it is the starting again that's important. How else do dreams come true?

It is springtime, and on a trip out to Dawes Arboretum for a picnic I thought I'd bring my camera, certain I'd wind up with some landscapes to post here. As I sifted through the images, though, my landscapes didn't grab me. Instead it seemed that this series of florals wanted to be seen. Funny how it is that our idea of what something should be most often isn't what winds up happening at all. The trick, I guess, is learning to get out of our own way so that we have room to listen to the thing that's really calling.

Obama's Inauguration

I've never been to DC. How nice to receive an invitation to stay with friends during the days of inauguration festivities! What truly surprised me was how powerful the experience felt. It was nothing I expected at all. Everything felt immense, from the size of buildings to the vastness of the National Mall (you can't tell this from television or photographs!) to the collective mood of goodwill coming from over a million and a half people. Everyone I bumped into was happy. Strangers were nice to each other. That it was also the Martin Luther King Jr. holiday put things into a perspective I didn't even realize would affect me so profoundly. From "I have a dream..." to our first African-American president, right here where I was standing.

With not nearly enough time to visit much of anything I wanted to see my first time in DC, I poked my head into a few museums and wandered by chance into the National Museum of the American Indian which happened to be sponsoring a three-day festival of multicultural performances entitled "Out of Many." Armenian dancers, Japanese storytellers, Native American flute players, salsa bands, African drummers, bluegrass bands... the list went on and on. I felt compelled to spend my two days clapping, stomping, swaying, singing, and dreaming to some of the most wonderful performances I've experienced.

On Tuesday morning, after a night of insomnia, I woke up in the dark at six, ate toast and a banana, and layered on my wool socks and tights, a couple shirts and a sweater, gloves, scarf, and my old heavy army surplus coat with the serious hood and we headed out to the Metro. After seeing the line of people waiting and realizing we'd never make it onto a train, we decided to walk the three and a half miles to the Mall. Once there, we parked ourselves in front of one of the JumboTrons next to the Washington Monument (did you see me waving?) and waited two hours in the nineteen-degree weather for stuff to really get started.

The Itzhak Perlman/Yo-Yo Ma "Air and Simple Gifts" performance was probably my most unexpected moment of joy of the entire trip. Yeah, okay, they weren't really playing, but whatever was coming out of the speakers was echoing through the canyons of empty streets and buildings, slipping through crisp, cold air and finding its way to my ears from ten different directions in the most ethereal angel-song I could ever imagine. If you were at home, warm, watching it on tv, you missed this magic. And then the feel of almost two million people cheering at once after the oath of office. And then the feel of hugging strangers next to you after Obama's address. As my feet turned to blocks of ice I wondered ever-so-briefly whether staying inside and watching it on television would have been a better idea - nope. This was SO worth the almost-frostbite and the seven miles of walking in boots not meant for walking. This was history. And I was there.

These are a few from the National Museum of Natural History. The "Birds of Washington, DC" exhibit was especially beautiful. It was tucked away in a basement hallway, like a little secret treasure, lovingly watched over by a bust of Spencer Baird, "founder" of the museum, who for some reason didn't make the cut to a more "important" floor. Perhaps they thought he would prefer the quiet company of his birds as opposed to life under the spotlights of the entrance hall. I know I would.

Then and now

While visiting my family in Florida for Christmas I wound up in Miami to shoot a portrait session at Vizcaya. A few years ago I happened upon Vizcaya in a book on gardens and I knew I wanted to photograph there. In July I was able to go, but artistically I just wasn't present. I just wasn't "seeing" things the way I used to. The last year or two has been a bit of a struggle for this. I so enjoy my freelance commissions but have trouble with the balance between it and my own personal work. I go shooting for "me" so infrequently that when I do, I feel all this pressure to see great things and come up with new stuff for my portfolio. Consequently I don't see a thing.

Years ago I used to take my camera with me everywhere. I never worried about "making art" - somehow it was more about recording and remembering the days. Even casual snapshots wound up getting worked on in the darkroom. I had a blast. This was my life. I think when my camera got bigger I stopped taking it along. And then digital changed things too (but that's another post). Film makes me slow down. I can't see what I just photographed. And I know I could shut off the display on the digital, but I'm too tempted to look. Film nudges me to move on without stopping to second-guess what I shot. It puts the focus on my experience of a place, rather than on whether or not I just took a fabulous picture of it.

This visit to Vizcaya was so different from the one six months ago. I brought digital, yes, but I also brought film. I walked around just looking. I had fun. It was the exact same place but I saw it so differently. The shift has come because I am finally trying to let go of the pressure to create art every time I look through my viewfinder. I am just having plain-old fun again. If something portfolio-worthy turns up, great, but it's not as important as seeing the magic wherever I am and getting it down.