Peace
(Sorry, no long-winded speeches with this photo.)
Early yesterday, I had an errand to run that would involve a 45-minute round trip walk, so I decided to take my camera.
Annoyingly, the subject of my errand was not available when I got there (ironically, a photograph) but my little walk ended up being a 2-hour tour of the area.
Over the next couple of days, I will post a selection of the photos taken, but here’s the first batch: The birds and the bugs.
You seek, you tap, you listen,
Bobbing left and right.
Grasping a toehold,
Grasping at hope.
Brute force, divine strategy
Mingle into a dance
Both aerial and arborial.
Unceasing, unerring, uncaring
Of the lives you disrupt;
Your murderous needs
Foremost in your mind.
Survival of the fittest
In a war of millimetres.
Anger? Frustration? Agony?
Only ceaseless desire
For what you have not yet.
Beating the race to post the first Mother’s Day tribute on my blog.
With one exception, these are all photos from my trip to British Columbia last autumn, and I am confident that my mom will think she looks like hell in each and everyone of these photos. That’s my mom!
I cannot see you
As you might wish,
But only as my eye allows.
Retinal engrams
Of old beliefs—
Blind spots
Emotional and real—
Shade the greys,
Colour the colours,
Frame light with dark,
Dark with light,
Until all I see
Is what I choose
To acknowledge,
To believe,
To understand.
I cannot see you
As you might wish;
Be glad I see
Any of you at all.
Not a ton of animal photos from this trip as my interest was more beach, people and places.
That being said, I was excited to see the adaptability of some of the local critters, including the nesting habits of sparrows at the local water treatment plant, which itself looks like something out of a Bond film, and the sheer joy of some dogs playing at the water’s edge.
Enjoy.
Earlier this evening, I had dinner with a lovely friend of mine (yay). Eventually—like 3 minutes in—we got around to discussing our blogs, and my friend starting talking about feeling the pressure to post. Not that any of her followers had specifically requested she post, but rather that she felt like she was letting down the side by not posting.
I understand this feeling at quite a personal level, as I spent most of my life feeling like I had to act lest I let down the side. Eventually, though, I realized this was something I was doing to myself and not something that was being imposed on me by outside forces (or at least not most of the time). Those in my life who were going to be dissatisfied if I didn’t act were probably going to be dissatisfied if I did act.
As my friend discussed her blog, she felt there were nights when she would sit in front of her computer with nothing to say and yet the page was blank and she hadn’t posted in a few days. Should she force herself to post something or should she just remain mute until she had something to say?
From my perspective, we blog for ourselves not others—this was a conversation many moons ago with my friend—and so the decision to post should be based on whether we feel the desire or personal need to post, an internal urge to channel whatever thoughts or emotions or essence bubbles within us awaiting expression.
I think it’s that honesty with ourselves, serving our own deeper need to share, that attracts and sustains followers. People are smart. They can see when you’re pressing out blog content like so much blood from a stone…if not on your first post, then on subsequent ones.
I talk a lot about our Art and how my personal art channels through me like something from the ether, whether I’m talking about writing or photography. I am a lightning rod through which the spirits anchor themselves—make that mean whatever you would like it to mean. That’s why I think the metaphor of the Force is so strong (okay, now I’m starting to channel George Lucas).
You cannot force your Art. It will happen when it is ready to happen…when you are ready for it to happen.
You must practice it, of course, while waiting for inspiration to take you to new levels, much as a hockey player practices skating and shooting drills in anticipation of the game when he or she won’t have time to think about those mechanical actions.
Perhaps you can practice on your blog, but I have yet to read a blog that suggests people are practicing. To this point in my reading, our blogs are our Art…or at least, part of our Art.
I know this is true for me, and I am confident this is the case for my friend. Thus, any attempt on her part to force a post will be a lie—to followers, more importantly to her Art, and most importantly to herself. She deserves better than that.
Before we left for Costa Rica, my brother warned me about hiking on jungle trails.
“Be careful what you grab when you climb a hill because that may just look like a branch.”
“If you have to step over a fallen log, step with a walking stick first to make sure the only thing under the log is dead leaves.”
“Tap out your shoes before you put them on in the morning to make sure only your toes reach the end.”
Okay! I get it! The creepy crawlies aren’t just beautiful. Can we go now? You first!
Luckily (I guess), the only significant nasties I managed to see on our trip were housed in a serpentarium near Volcan Arenal. And as I suspected, they were quite beautiful.
Perhaps one of my favourite moments on my recent trip to Costa Rica was an evening spent conversing with a howler monkey.
From the balcony of our room in Manuel Antonio, a lone male somewhere in the pitch black of night was letting the universe know he was there. Not to be outdone conversationally, I wanted him to know I was around as well, and so I joined in.
I am confident that some of our hotel mates thought the neighbour a little mad, but the invisible howler seemed to be quite animated about the company. Animated enough that the fearless one in our family, my brother with whom I was travelling, finally asked me to cool it, lest we have someone else sharing our room.
Despite our best efforts to stage life with garden ponds, nature has a way of making them her own in very short order.
I find myself enraptured by the epic stories told in such confined spaces, losing hours of my life in these mythic displays.
(These photos were taken in Montreal; Volcan Arenal, Costa Rica; Kona Kailua, Hawaii)
PIECES OF ME...
Mother, Nehiyaw, Metis, & Itisahwâkan - career communicator. This is my collection of opinions, stories, and the occasional rise to, or fall from, challenge. In other words, it's my party, I can fun if I want to. Artwork by aaronpaquette.net
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