Drawn by its depth,
silenced by its beauty
and amazed by its complexity.
My drive to work each day is relatively stress-free compared to most commuters. I have a 10-minute journey through a small, quaint little town and the traffic in the winter is minimal at best barring any unforeseen wildlife charging through an invisible cross-walk.
This relaxing drive affords me the time to look around and absorb the nuances that make me appreciate the fact that this town is my home. Like all towns, Port Carling is steeped in rich history and tradition and we are proud to boast those memories in our Museum as well as through unique artist renderings. In 2005, “The Wall” was unveiled and, at the time, it was the largest historic photo mosaic mural in the world.
(image credit: muskokalakes.ca)
This tribute to history contains 9,028 individual photos that bring to life the 1922 RMS Sagamo going through the locks in Port Carling. These photos span a century from 1860 to 1960 and yesterday, for some reason, this mosaic really struck a chord deep within me. I have passed it every day on my way to work and never took the time to truly comprehend how snapshots of occurrences in our lives can create such a grand picture of our past.
So many little pieces of our history are used to make up our most significant memories. Stopping to look at this wall made me think of all the snippets that have etched themselves into my brain and have begun to create the mosaic of my life. Some of those fragments in time are dripping with vibrant colors of happiness and others are mottled with the greys of anguish and grief, but all of those hues combine to create the spectral portrait of my life.
If you were to create an emblematic picture of your journey, what would your mosaic look like?
They grab my attention
and hold me in their embrace.
Chasing them to catch just the right shot
is like chasing the illusion of perfection.
Their shapes, like our lives, can change in an instant
also changing our perspective.
Once you adjust your position
the view is never the same.
The closer you get to something,
the more beautiful it becomes.
Sometimes, if you are lucky,
the view is so much better than you anticipated
and those moments should be savored,
breathed in like a fine wine.
Our destiny is written in the sky,
our hope, painted on the largest canvas possible
but our dreams can change in a whisper.
Although the wind may alter the portrait,
perhaps it was meant to change.
Just maybe, life is as big as the sky
and those clouds should be the cherished blessings
of the things we were meant to find beautiful.
lending a painting
as the ceiling of our day.
The sky need not be pink
for us to see its splendor.
There is beauty in all things,
we just have to look beyond the norm.
A storm will come and go
but there is always artistry
in the wake of its anger.
From darkness blossoms light.
When I first saw it, I was captivated by it. A simple photo of a friend on Facebook grabbed and held my attention but it was no ordinary photograph. I had hoped there was more of an explanation to it than mere Photoshop and I was thrilled to hear her tell the story behind the picture.
She had agreed to have her portrait done by her friend who is fascinated by the origin of photography. He posed her and painstakingly went through the process that photographers went through back in the late 1800’s. His camera was an antique with the accordion-style lens and the black hood that covered the head of the photographer.
He waited until the precise moment that he thought he had captured her true essence and he let his finger plunge the button that would acquire every detail of her spirit. The result of his effort was remarkable. He printed her face on tin to truly encapsulate the original process of printing a photograph.
I stared at her photo for a long time. There was so much more to it than just a picture of her face. There was a story in her eyes. His diligent process captured much more than just who she is now. This snapshot seemed to hold the story of generations, perhaps lifetimes of moments that led up to her being in his studio and posing for this shot.
It wasn’t a selfie or a picture as a second thought. There weren’t 100 takes in a minute because that is all we have time for nowadays. He paused, he let the camera do what it was meant to do and he took a thousand stories, captured them in one single photo and printed them on a piece of tin.
Look at the artwork in this photo and hopefully you can now understand why I was so drawn to my friend’s picture. Without the use of any computer tricks, this photograph projects so much more than just a face on a piece of paper or a computer screen. This picture has depth, emotion and a lifetime of moments that led to her presence in our present reality.
If I ever have the chance to do this, I will jump at it. I would love to see what kind of story my face has to tell and what ghosts from my past linger in the background, searching for recognition.
My head is here,
lost in what looks like a painting.
Texture emulates emotion, freedom.
The horizon represents reality,
meeting effortlessly with creative indulgence.
There are no rules in the clouds.
My heart is here,
swelling with emotion,
nurtured by nature and blessed by light,
comforted by the embrace of the essence of life.
free to move in a path that is meant only for me.
“A lake that is noisy cannot reflect anything”
– Robert Adams
I like to spend time reflecting. I don’t dwell on the past but I do visit from time to time so I can take a moment to appreciate the lessons I have been taught along the way. I am a different person from the one I was masquerading as many years ago. And yesterday, the serenity of my day off provided me with ample moments to look back and plenty of time to plan my journey forward based on where I am in my present.
My lake was quiet today. It afforded me a few precious moments to realize that if I hadn’t experience failure, I wouldn’t have learned to appreciate success. If I hadn’t lost pieces of myself along the way, I would never have been able to have found the real me and respect who I truly am.
Looking backwards may seem like a waste of time but that personal reflection will remind you of where you came from and make you acknowledge where and who you are today.
It is the eve,
not of the approaching holiday,
but of the shortest day of the year.
Darkness will swallow this landscape tomorrow,
giving us the fewest number of hours
to enjoy this beautiful sky
and create a seemingly everlasting night.
But through that darkness,
the light will grow strong once again.
The days will battle the nights
and the warmth will conquer the cold.
The blue of the sky will be deep
and the setting sun will linger,
allowing us to once again hold onto the light.