I was walking in the woods this morning, on the hunt for what a friend had excitedly called a “bloom of lily-like plants with spotted leaves and yellow flowers.” I went with the intention of recording an image, but I got a lot more out of the experience than just a photograph. Continue reading “Seeing Through the Lens”
Only after looking closely at the pallid women on their sofas would one think they must be ill. One of them wears black–not a good color for her. She has interlaced her long fingers together, perhaps to steady her nerves. Her gaze is steady but untrusting, almost a little fearful. The other woman is less interesting, less defined, one dimensional. Something seems very off about her; her forehead is too short, perhaps. Her lips are pressed tightly shut. She looks angry. Maybe she resents being stared at?
One might be spurred to ask how did Miss Elizabeth Reynolds Chanler and her doppelganger come to be perched rather tentatively in my basement? How, indeed… Continue reading “Miss Chanler Makes a Visit”
I’ve gotten better at waiting. This year presented me many opportunities to perfect my skills, to learn to inhabit the different kinds of waiting, to become One with the open curve of the bowl of Time.
Continue reading “Waiting”
(From my 2016 Holiday Letter…)
2016 was not a good year. It was not kind to the health and well-being of some of those near and very dear to me. Then, on November 8th, America–not the America I thought I knew–elected a mercurial, bullying, racist lunatic, and I—along with many other like-minded citizens—fell into a trough of helplessness, depression, confusion and powerlessness.
Continue reading “Finding Light in Times of Darkness”
This story starts when I was very young, before 10 years old. I’m in a darkroom and there is a red light above. My father is holding a small black box that smells very strongly of chemicals and he is showing me how to turn the dial on the top of the box two or three rotations every few minutes or so. Continue reading “Opening a Lens on Myself”