Contemplative Photography

I'm off on Friday, off on an adventure to Tatamagouche to learn more about photography.

The Tatamagouche Centre is a non-profit education, conference and retreat centre located in the village of Tatamagouche, on Nova Scotia's north shore. 

"Be Still: Contemplative Photography" encourages participants to explore the making photographs as a meditative process and path to self-discovery.  The workshop runs from Friday evening until early Sunday afternoon and includes creativity exercises, reflection time, sharing and analysis.  

We'll have the opportunity to go out for two dawn photo shoots, plus trekking along the shores of the bay and the expansive wooded grounds during other periods of the day.  It's supposed to rain on Saturday and Sunday, and is certainly pelting down as I write at suppertime on Thursday.  The dawn photo shoots might be dull, damp affairs.

I've heard from friends who have attended in the past.  They are full of enthusiasm for the program.  And their photos show a new depth and richness because of the time spent learning more about who they are and the art of photography.

I'm excited to be going and looking forward to working with Janice MacLean and Gordon Williams, both talented photographers and facilitators.  

My rain boots and gear are packed and ready.


Words in colour will take you to another site with additional information, if you click on them.

Spring Blooms



First Daffodil



Flowers of the Norway Maple



Branch of Flowers on the Norway Maple



Flowers and New Leaves on the Rowan Tree



Squills Hiding in the Pathway


Weeding and planting have taken over from writing and poetry. 
One creative activity is replacing the other. 
 Oh, to find a balance.

Photos are mine.

What Do You See?

“Art does not reproduce what we see; rather it makes us see.”

~ Paul Klee

And, as well, ordinary parts of our every day life “make us see.”

Just for a few moments today, choose something you take for granted every day… something you see, and yet don’t really see because it is part of your routine landscape at home, at work, at school or on the train, in the car. 

Humour me: choose one object, one scene or one familiar face.  Really look at it, study it for a few moments, give to it all of your awareness.  Slow down and concentrate.

What do you see that you have never noticed before?  What new aspect surprises you?

S-l-o-w  d-o-w-n and truly welcome the newness, the freshness that is right there in front of you each day.

Tell me about it.  Post a comment.

Mary Oliver, Comment on Creativity

“The most regretful people on earth are those

who felt the call to creative work,

who felt their own creative power restive and uprising,

and gave to it neither power nor time.”

~ Mary Oliver

I love this quote.  It inspires me.  It admonishes me to relinquish my self-imposed craving for perfection and propels me to release what churns inside of me, regardless.

Part of me has always dreamed of being a great writer; part of me has always been terrified of publicly sharing my writing.  I recognize the vast difference between great writing and average writing and have not wanted to be discounted as mediocre.  For years, for decades actually, all I wrote on a personal level were thoughtful notes, interesting letters and soul-searching journal entries.  On a business level, I crafted pleas for crucial funding, wrote substantial reports and weighty grant proposals, and plenty of those.

Nevertheless, I need to write!  Something in me struggles to be heard, to be seen in words.  Something in me desires and loves words – adores shades of meaning, the play and juxtaposition of sounds in a sentence, the vibrant images, the palpable feelings, the delectable tastes and invigorating fragrances that words evoke.  Like painting or photography or creating pictures in any medium, writing crafts bursting-ripe word images.

Writing skills will improve with constant use, with relentless re-writes, with diligence and discipline and self-acceptance.  My writing cannot be termed “great”, but it is essential and deeply satisfying to me.  However, I believe in myself and in my own gifts and abilities.  As I generate my own words and thoughts and stories, asking for direct criticism from others, I will discover and nurture my own creative work.

I need to write; I feel my “own creative power restive and uprising”, as Mary Oliver says.  Writing pulls me along into the muddled mystery of life, pushes me into chaotic creative exertion.  When I provide vigour and time, my writing urges an artistic spirit to spill out from me and to flood my life.  Juicy joy!

I’ll coax and entice you to join me on that inventive journey.  And ask…

How are you giving power and time to your own creative work?