In November the bones of the earth begin to show. What was hidden reveals itself, and in that revealing, we find what is essential.
-Clarissa Pinkola Estés
In November the bones of the earth begin to show. What was hidden reveals itself, and in that revealing, we find what is essential.
-Clarissa Pinkola Estés
Back around the beginning of October I had an idea for a project. Basically, I’d drive around documenting as many of Bellingham's giant skeletons as I could under a time crunch. My kids would accompany me as often as possible in the personal minutes between activities, errands, and work.
And guess what? We actually made it happen. It was a fun, low-stakes side quest during a busy season, with a rewarding visual outcome!
No Bones About It
or, one small town's obsession with death.
You can see the rest here.
HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!
It’s an unsettled feeling. You must be busy, your hands are idle, and the time is ticking away. But, you’re tired. You’re a bit overworked, and your brain needs a break from logistics. Still you hope to find inspiration, so you open “the” app. You scroll for 5 mins, looking for a spark. You see several AI ‘artists’ not labeled as such, you see lots of beautiful people and even more beautiful words. Smiles, and a perceived depth in the squares. But it doesn’t quite hit. 5 minutes turns to 10, and then you realize your eyes now match the brain fog. They’re strained, strung out, and you have a similar feeling to having done lots of brain work, without anything to show for it. And you have nothing left for your own creativity. Depleted in a mere 10 minutes.
Lately, the main drag is socials. not real ones, or in slang terms IRL. But the ones masquerading as your interactions for the day. That comment, that scroll, that video or meme that seems oh so tailored just for you, that moment of small internet clout, a like, a heart, a comment. Then.. crickets. Until the next thing that takes attention but gives nothing substantial.
Now, people do use digital spaces for real connection. They use these platforms for work, play, meeting new people. Not all just want your time and money, and some, dare I say it, really give back. The connections made aren’t all superficial and do lead to real friendships with real people, real opportunities, and real paychecks. There are many ways to connect in the modern age, foster genuine and necessary relationships with others. The distraction factor though, is so so high. And if done improperly, the effects are real. Your attention muscle atrophies, communication too.
There are ways to use these platforms, if you must use them. There are ways to find community, true inspiration, and purpose, that don’t all need to be IRL. So, I’m working through boundaries for what the tools can be, both personally and professionally, because that feeling above is all too familiar. It’s a cycle I’ve broken, and one I don’t want repaired. Space to breathe, to communicate, to sit with my thoughts. Intention behind my digital involvement. NO hard and fast rules, just mindfulness. I don’t want brainpower senselessly tapped into anymore.
The last rays of October kiss this fertile field of view.
The frost should have done its work by now, but these floral bursts are slow to fade, they resist the cold, resist the shortening days.
The parade of color this season will ultimately end. Until it does, the paradox of strong blooms in fall weather is a message to keep going, take advantage of the nutrients that last, hold on to the season for what it offers. 🧡
Is an overabundance of care actually anxiety? When enjoyment gets so big it eats itself and what you loved isn’t simple anymore, how can you walk that tide of emotion back? And, most of all, what does this have to do with moody pumpkin photography?
The answer to that last question is nothing, the answer to the first two questions are, as with any human thing, more complicated. Two things I like to dwell on when experiencing overzealous care (let’s rename anxiety-yeehaw!) are curiosity and gratitude.
Curiosity is wonderful in social situations. As a portrait photographer, having interest in your subject is the best way to get out of your head around performing well. This isn’t wisdom I can claim. It’s something heard over and over from successful “people” people, and really, it works. It’s the positive reinforcement of “it’s not about you.”
And Gratitude. Gratitude feels like the balm when the over-caring goes inward. When others aren’t involved or around, and we’re left with our own voices about our own ideas and situations. Gratitude interrupts this. Gratitude is a friend who walks into the cold dark room with a light, a blanket, and a cup of coffee. Gratitude can see truth, doesn’t avoid the fear or care, but reminds you of their opposites. In some magical way, true gratitude refocuses our feelings without denying them. And, guess what? Too much anxiety will ultimately kill you, but there can never be enough gratitude.
Maybe these are all thoughts too intense for a Monday. Maybe I should have left it at the pumpkin shot. But hopefully my own lightbulb moment (one I live over and over) spreads light this week.
More gorgeousness from transitional seasons. I won’t wax poetic again about it, at least not today.
Under a finite beating heart, nestled in all the good intentions, is always this question:
“how?”
A connection to some sort of feverish source of substance
in keeping with the laws of attraction, of physics, of chemistry, of self.
A thought or dance to that which is fiction but balanced in the baseline of reality.
Who’s to say what, who, where was once real, if we didn’t see it, especially if we did?
Our strength of self- surely this knowledge that “I am” that “I know” doesn’t just reshuffle back into the fray. What kind of place do we hold, what kind of space can we have, after all?
That’s a wrap, Ya’ll!
Grateful for talented passionate people who’s soul calling in life is to bring smiles to others and remind us to remember awe.
Awe is a somewhat precious commodity in this modern life.
"Absorb what is useful, discard what is not, add what is uniquely your own." - Bruce Lee
“All meaningful, organic, and foundational learning is at heart playful and ludic. ”
Since the busy Fall season kicked off last week and continues this week and the next and the next and basically until the rain sets in, I figured it was only time to share some scenes from back in June when I photographed the Shoestring Circus.
Feels on theme with my schedule, the mental flexibility and artistic integrity I’m trying to juggle (ahaha)
Not every moment must be shared or socially accounted for.
Not every thought voiced, nor every emotion acted upon.
Not every word must be written. Nor every idea realized.
-thoughts while trying to come up with a Friday post and newsletter
Autumn can feel like an ending for many people. A precursor to what PNWesterners call, “the big dark.” A warning to enjoy it while you can before the endless rain, the harsh wind, the utter lack of vitamin D. But the shedding of the dry, dusty, blaring months.. the clear, crisp air of harvest, that’s my true catharsis. Summer feels like freedom, but fall too is the antithesis of servitude.
The smell of nature bursting before the reset. The bold, bright foray into a season of togetherness, rest, warmth.. Man, it feels so good to exist in the fall.
Officially, Fall. It’s officially time to let go.
“the earth is where she has always been”
Looking up instead of straight ahead at a popular tourist attraction in Gulf Shores, AL
Perhaps one of the biggest surprises of the summer is looking back on some iPhone snaps and realizing they’re pretty wonderful. It doesn’t have to be a full format camera to illicit excitement. I know this. You know this. And yet somehow that little fact is forgotten.
Gulf Shores State Park, along hwy 182
Perspective is a funny little thing.
It’s the difference between an otherwise normal day being the best ever… or the worst. Obviously, outliers exist. Days where everything really does go our way and others where we can.not.win. It can be infuriating to acknowledge the truth: no matter the day, we can always control perspective.
But friends, the blank slate of in-between days, those are gifts.
Perspective is the difference between this image above coming to fruition or not. For the last several months I’ve looked at my garden as a todo list rather than a front row seat to the complexity of life, biological cycles, and gorgeously lit time. The summer days weren’t awful, just full. At times distracting, at times intentionally focused elsewhere.
I can’t dwell on what all might have been missed. All I can do is wake up. Notice. And sometimes more forcibly interrupt the routine. Pick up the camera. There isn’t a guaranteed reward for creative action. But the excitement when something lands, makes you feel, that is magical and worth the effort. This could have been just another day I noticed a spider web, thought, “I should photograph that” then went about my day. But man, I’m grateful it wasn’t.
You may not like September
I know there’s nothing to fear. -Wayward Jane