Happy Anniversary

Today is my 45th wedding anniversary!

In a recent substack post, Paul Sanders talks about about falling in and out of love with photography. His words speak not only to a relationship with a camera and a photographic practice, but also to a romantic relationship. Read something as someone, and you will see what I mean.

“Falling out of step with something that once held you rarely has much to do with the something itself. More often it’s a sign that life has moved on, and you’ve moved with it, so the old way in simply doesn’t fit the shape you’ve become. That’s worth treating as information to help you rather than a verdict on your ability.”
— Paul Sanders. Still, We don't talk anymore?

Our marriage endures and our love remains steady. At 45 years of marriage, we know well the realities of a long partnership. We know that love does not survive unless it is well-tended. We understand that sometimes we grow apart, and finding that connection again requires determination and commitment. We stay together because we are vulnerable and genuine. We fight it out when needed (rupture), and on the best days, we find our way back to each other (repair), in love in a different way. Solid partnerships are not so much about communication as they are about connection.

Happy National Raspberry Day

Because I just discovered that today is National Raspberry Day!

I love raspberries. This may not sound like a big deal, but it is. In my childhood, we did not eat raspberries; I’m not even sure I knew about the existence of raspberries. We only ever had strawberries, and even then only in their natural season of late spring. My mother chopped up the strawberries and covered them in sugar so that they macerated, making a sweet syrup. She loved the berries and tried to freeze them in their syrup, but they were never as good as the fresh version.

We did not grow up eating very many healthful foods and were not introduced to many fresh fruits and vegetables. This is no reflection on my mother, who was a very good home cook, but more about the place and time of my youth. My parents owned and operated a restaurant and many of the foods were fried, and so, I did not develop a taste for fresh fruits or vegetables. As an adult, I’ve tried to course correct, but there are many foods that I eat that I know are healthy and good for my body, but I still don’t love them (at least not in the way that I love french fries!). But those sweet little raspberries made their way onto my list of favorite foods, and not just the the “healthy” list. They are on the “foods I love” list, all by themselves, with no added sugar or fancy treatment. And that is worth celebrating!

Imperfections

From Still by Paul Sanders (page 129):

This approach involves accepting the fact that no subject is perfect and neither is any person. Our flaws and struggles, the dents and scars, are what make us unique. It’s never just the appearance of something that makes it beautiful; it is the story it tells that catches our heart, emotions and imagination, and like the shadow to light, it is the imperfections that tell the story.

The vase tumbled from the tray as I tried to rearrange things for a more pleasing arrangement. I swept up the pieces, lifted them with a dust pan, and tipped them into a small bag for recycling.

The next morning, I had an idea to honor the process of making the pictures for this project. The finished photographs look effortless and clean, but the process is very messy. We’ve been in the midst of a heat wave and my garage studio is hot; I am sweaty and sticky. I keep running out of room to put things, changing my mind on the fly, and taking lots of sketch photos with my iPhone camera. The work feels like a series of mini-explosions. There is a lot of luck involved and many surprises. Digging the broken shards of porcelain out of the recycle bin was worth the effort. The pieces remind me that not everything goes as planned, but I can often pivot and come up with new plan. The pieces are more exquisite than the vase was before the break.

Come What May

 

Without Expectation

Do everything as if you were
planting a spruce seedling
among stumps in a clearcut,
laying it gently in the earth
where it may or may not grow,
knowing that even if it does
you will not be there to feel
your footsteps cushioned by
its bed of fallen needles—
you will not be there to linger
in glimmered sunlight slanting
on a blanket spread beneath
to catch every inch of shade.
Silence the voices that say,
What if this comes to nothing?
and just keep doing whatever
brings you most alive.

—James Crews