{for s t i l l: body}
Thank you, Martha! What a beautiful, inspiring week it has been - seeing so many lovely images of s t i l l, and looking for and thinking about my own as well. These are the images from the pool that I happily cannot get out of my head:
still body 3
still:body 5
still :: body
still body 2
14-11-2008
untitled
lois likes ruth
I hope your weekend starts soon, and is wonderful!
{for s t i l l: body}
Have I given you an update on the second book lately? I don't think I have! The official publication date has been set for August of 2009. And the title...
HANDMADE HOME
Simple Ways to Repurpose Old Materials into New Family Treasures
I love the title. And I love how pretty the book is turning out to be. It's at an exciting point in the process for me - as the many creative and talented hands that have touched the book become visible and it all comes together as a whole. I can't wait to show you.
But for now...my slow, steady and careful last-look little touches are being made to its pages. From the quiet and the s t i l l of the coziest office around - my bed.
(Yes, I do realize I may be taking a bit of liberty with the theme of s t i l l:body with some of these images. I couldn't help it.)
We watched Rivers & Tides (a little clip here) - the documentary about Andy Goldsworthy - with the kids this weekend. I don't know why I hadn't shown them his work before - they were so mesmerized, intrigued, and...inspired. Ezra made it only a third of the way into the film before he was up, putting his coat on and heading out the door to create his own 'something.' The rest of us trickled out one by one. And quietly, with the wind whipping the wet leaves all around us, and the trees moaning in the wind above us, this little 'something' was made. And truly, amidst the noise and the movement and the busy work of children and adults at play in the woods...everything felt still.
Martha will be hosting a week of s t i l l:body ("still life photos that include a little part of a person") next week at the s t i l l flickr pool (really great inspiration in this beautiful photograph).
I've been playing along for a few days now with my camera and my own interpretation of the project, and will continue next week, sharing the photos here as I go. The timing feels like a little gift - so much of my thought and energy is focused at the moment on embracing and loving the still....without letting it slip into the waiting. Because while what is to come is incredibly special, so is right now...
Happy Weekend to you!
With the weeks-till-baby dwinding down, I'm finding myself in a familiar place. A place of to-do lists, and cleaning, and preparing. Struggling to wrap up long-ago made commitments, trying to get as much work done and out of the way as I can, and tying up so very many loose ends. And wanting to get so many little things in place.
But while there's a flurry of details being attended to every day...I'm noticing my camera filling up with images like these.
Photographs taken for no 'reason' that I'm aware of at the time. Except in retrospect it's all quite clear to me. Because each time I take one, see one I would take, or find it on my computer and linger there for a moment longer, my breathing slows. And I feel still. The camera - with it's magical ability to freeze a moment as it does - is reminding me of the still I need. The still in which we find peace everyday, the still in which connection is made with those around us, and the still in which the space is made...for the gentle welcoming of someone new into the world.
I'm wishing you a beautiful weekend. With, especially, a few moments of still amidst all the rest of your living.
Can we talk about the holidays for a minute? I know, I'm sorry. But really and truly, they are coming up, and so, too, will be a new year. We've been enjoying our Bird Calendar all year, and I've been so happy with the size and quality of the calendar itself, that I knew there'd be another for 2009. But like all ideas that fester with some time, that simple calendar in my mind grew. So this year - there are two calendars for 2009 - and not just for me, but for you as well, should it be of interest to you. Two calendars - each featuring some of my favorite photographs from the past year (as well as some surprises you've never seen!) - available now from Lulu.com.
2009 Through The Seasons: a year of children & nature is a collection of some of my absolute favorite photos of little ones truly exploring, playing, living and being in the natural world around them. I hope it inspires a little bit of such play to anyone who might use it in the coming year.
2009 In the Studio: a year of craft includes some of my favorite crafty images from the year. From notions to works in progress to finished works the photos encompass sewing, knitting, embroidery and of course a little vintage love, too. I think - if I may say so - this would make a great gift for a crafty friend.
** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **
The calendars are generously sized (see those little hands for reference!) - measuring 13.5 x 19", and are printed on a beautiful linen paper with a bit of texture. All the ordering and shipping is set up directly through Lulu.com. You can buy your own calendar - and see a thorough preview of each - by following the link or the calendar images that are now in the left sidebar.
After weeks of staring at these images on a computer screen while putting it all together, I was so thrilled to receive the 'test' calendars. Sometimes I forget what a huge difference it makes seeing colors in print and large enough to really see. I'll be so happy to have some of these images around to linger on throughout the year, and I hope they might bring some of you a little bit of joy too!
A little more black and white film for you today. From this season - just last week at camp. Each of these make me immensely happy...and quiet. They make me feel quiet, just like the spot in which they were taken.
We're headed out on a little camping adventure soon. Happy Weekend to you!
{And If you're local, don't miss the opening of Lisa and Lisa's Pigmentary Portraits show at Artstream in Rochester! I do so wish I could be in two places at one time this weekend!}
Film always gives me the feeling as though it is from another time. But discovering a roll of undeveloped film - quite literally from another time - makes that feeling even stronger. I had no idea what to expect when I picked up these prints - when or what the images could have been from. This week, in the full 90 degree heat of summer, with sand still on my toes from the beach, I stood in the parking lot of the photo lab and was suddenly transported to a simple afternoon in autumn last year. It was a solo date for my girl and I, while we waited for the boys in a class. We stopped at the market for fresh flowers for the dinner table, and bread and chocolate milk for our snack. Just the two of us, and feeling grateful for lots of time to spare, we walked and jumped in the crunchy leaves on the sidewalks. I remember moving so slowly with her that day, and the sounds of autumn were so strong - the wind and the leaves were everywhere. As we waited for the class to end, I sat on the old church steps, snacked and knit some rows on her sweater while she gathered her treasures of acorns, pinecones and dry and crusty brown leaves. It was one of those special late autumn days with a bit of unexpected warmth in the air - an afternoon where you couldn't help but stop and look around at all of it - knowing it was fleeting - and breathe it all in deeply.
Oh, film. Thank you.
Well, that wasn't what I was expecting - I guess I forgot to consult the weather before I made all those grand plans for planting. There was none of that, only a lot of spring rain and spring fevers (literally). Instead though, it was a nice (minus the fevers), cozy, lazy, rainy spring weekend spent inside watching the outside turn green before our eyes.
A weekend full of scouring for the last bits of the year's wood supply, and then huddling by the wood stove; lots of reading, play dough, and knitting; a lot of Leonard Cohen (I can't help myself when it rains, thankfully my loves oblige); and day-long grazing on WHO Bread, tea, and rice pudding. Ah...a wonderful and momentary pause before the busy work of spring. On Sunday night, I was reminded of this beautiful poem by Mary Oliver. And on Monday morning, we saw what the rain had done. Oh, Spring. Imagine the long and wondrous journeys still to be ours.
Last Night the Rain Spoke to Me
Last night
the rain
spoke to me
slowly, saying,
what joy
to come falling
out of the brisk cloud,
to be happy again
in a new way
on the earth!
That's what it said
as it dropped,
smelling of iron,
and vanished
like a dream of the ocean
into the branches
and the grass below.
Then it was over.
The sky cleared.
I was standing
under a tree.
The tree was a tree
with happy leaves,
and I was myself,
and there were stars in the sky
that were also themselves
at the moment
at which moment
my right hand
was holding my left hand
which was holding the tree
which was filled with stars
and the soft rain -
imagine! imagine!
the long and wondrous journeys
still to be ours.
-Mary Oliver, from What Do We Know
Late summer at the farm.
(You'll notice few pictures of the boys here - because, you see, I can never find them at the farm.)
I'm not ready to say it's the end of the season yet, but this is my little goodbye ode to the end of August - a la old school film. It's been a really good month.
Enjoy, and thanks for sharing in some of our August journeys!
Thank you so much for your enthusiasm (and preorders!) for the book!! Oh, it is so fun to share this journey with you here. I'm very eagerly - and as patiently as I can - awaiting March 11th when I can actually hold it in my hands. Until the book has it's own website (must figure that out soon!), you'll find book news and a link to the Amazon pre-order page sitting quietly over there in the right sidebar.
Last week on our little vacation (which ended up being more home-bound than originally planned, but when 'home' means the beach? There was little complaining.), I continued my little love affair with film. I brought the camera along with us on our fourth of July beach visit. Every shot in the roll was overexposed or otherwise funky technically. But I don't care - every single one makes me so happy. I can't stop fussing over the magic of film, especially when it's not my 'everyday' method of taking pictures. There's so much I love about it - the one chance, the waiting, even the sound of the clicking camera. Anyway...here are a few of my favorites. A few more are on Flickr in my film set, if I haven't over saturated you with beach photographs yet (oh, there are still months yet to go!).
Happy Monday, friends. It's nice to be back!
I've been shooting exclusively in digital since Calvin was born. In six years I haven't picked up our film cameras once. But having watching Maria, and then Hannah play so beautifully with film, I've been thinking about our old camera - packed away in the attic. Our trip North last weekend seemed the perfect opportunity to visit it again - no crafting came with us into the woods, but our trusty old film camera did, and I was so excited to play with it.
It took a bit to get used to the whole 'one shot' deal again. I think that was a good thing. With digital it's so easy to just shoot - gobs of photos - and end up with the best shot. But with precious expensive film, well, a whole different story. I found myself really framing shots, paying attention more, slowing down, and thinking about what I was shooting more than with digital.
There's nothing like the anticipation of picking up a roll of developed film. Ah, so fun. And a bit of magic, really....versus our instant "let me see it!" that we're used to on the digital LCD screens. My 35mm lightmeter is completely shot, but I think we managed okay. I shot in 200 speed, and was expecting (hoping) for a bit more grain, even. Still, I'm pleased with the results. (They scanned a bit darker than they actually are).
These pictures make me very happy. In a quiet sort of way, which I can't really explain. I suppose I don't need to.
I think it's caused me to give a little more thought to how I shoot digital- maybe just to slow it down a bit. And while I have no intention (or budget!) to shoot lots of film, I do think it won't be packed back into the attic. The next time we head into the woods, it will be coming with us. There's something organic about shooting film that feels like a
pleasant match to me with time spent in the quiet, slow, and calm of
nature.
I've posted a few more of my favorites over on Flickr. You can find them in the Film photoset.
