{Taken with Pentax K-1000, Kodak Portra 400 film}
I am remembering what it is like to play. And allowing all of that joy in my life for the first time in what feels like forever.
Three things that are good for me right now:
This podcast on Burnt Toast. Virginia Sole-Smith interviews Debra Benfield, RDN. "You Are Not Considered a Whole Person After a Certain Age."
This 8-minute yoga sequence, Legs Up the Wall, with Brea from Heart + Bones Yoga.
Mexican Chocolate Icebox Cookies and a great way to cook chicken. Three Things by Jenny Rosenstrach
One of the most effective ways that I learn to see differently is by studying the work of photographers whose work I admire. An accompanying benefit is that I continue to develop my own voice and style. The simple act of identifying art that I love, photographs that resonate with me, colors and styles that make me feel deeply…all these things contribute to my growth as an artist. I am always on the lookout for people and things that nourish me in this way.
This morning I spent some time with the photographs of Katherine Wolkoff, especially her body of work, Taken From a Cat. These types of pictures and this way of seeing are not part of my repertoire at this moment, but they are, for me, aspirational photographs. It’s easy enough to take a fine picture when the scene is set so that the subject is clearly defined, but what about when the subject is more subtle? What happens with the scene is not so carefully arranged? What about when focus stops being the focus? How do we convey themes and subjects in less concrete ways? These are the questions I am pondering.
I am eagerly awaiting spring. Tired of winter. Bemoaning the same old brown and gray colors. Wanting to take pictures outdoors but not quite enough to brave the cold. Plotting the grid for flowers in the raised bed. Planning small summer travels. Dreaming of the fresh produce from the community-supported-agriculture program we joined. Whining about the here and now. As so often happens, poetry is the force that sets me right. Delivered to my Inbox from the kind Janice Falls, this heart poem, Here by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer.
“Some gifts come only
when we stay in one place,
come only when we are alone,
come only when we stop praying
to be somewhere else and instead
pray to be here.”
—Here, Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer
