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Yesterday our regular Saturday morning outing was delayed by the heavy rains.
Still, “delayed” is not “canceled” ..
We arranged to meet at 9:30 at the usual spot and headed for the Cambridge Butterfly Conservatory.
One of us (me) was expecting a half empty space where we could photograph, draw and or paint in relative peace and quiet, after all school was back in, right?
Wrong!
By 10:30 the place was packed with Mom's and Dads chasing gaggles of kids chasing the butterflies..
Finding a little place of refuge for a little piece of peace was a challenge but it was possible and there we sat, sweating.
You see the building is for tropical flora and fauna so it is very warm and very humid, much like the weather that we had been trying to avoid all summer!
Oh the irony, we paid for hot and humid while outside it was cool and not so humid!

But the “three amigos” rode again so it was all worth it.
By 11:30 we were all getting a little overwhelmed so we retreated to the cafeteria for tea and munchies and a overdue get together.
The conversation, banter and laughter flowed as easily as ever. Sketchbooks were shared (which is a relatively new addition to our get-togethers) and plans were hatched for next weekends outing.

We probably overstayed our welcome but no-one told us to leave and we were in no hurry because we were in the company of friends.

A good day despite the slow, wet start and of course the artificial weather 'inside'.


“A friend accepts us as we are yet helps us to be what we should”. ~Author Unknown

This last week I had a conversation, a conversation about why do we release our creations to the world?
Why expose our inner self, our feelings, our very souls. Taking the chance that we will be humiliated, scorned, laughed at or a thousand other ways to be demeaned?

Do we do it for accolades? Approval? Acceptance? “attaboys”? Money? Fame?

Well maybe .. but I think there is a deeper reason.

We have a burning need, a deep desire to create and having created the desire to create becomes the need to share.

That need overpowers the possibility of criticism and rejection so that we may release our creations into the world, to share it with others and in so doing risk 'baring our souls'.

A scary though that, putting it all on the line for the chance that someone somewhere may simply say “I like that”...
So I ask again, Why expose our inner self, our feelings, our very souls....?

Affirmation.

This is why, this is what I ( we? ) seek

Time is such a precious thing.
The moments that were are gone.
The moments to come race toward us at a frightening speed then they too are gone.

And in the moment of here and now we create and having done so we need affirmation of time well spent.

For as that moment passes and we look at what we created we can say “that was not here a moment ago but now it is” it is real, it becomes a proof of our existence.

It is our statement: “look I was here” !!

“Most men lead lives of quiet desperation and go to the grave with the song still in them.”
― Henry David Thoreau, Civil Disobedience and Other Essays


p.s Thanks to Patrick for opening this door

Sometimes you have to step out of your box and leave the comfort zone.
Yesterday was one such a time.

I and a few others had been invited over to a friends house to sit outside in the gathering dusk to feed ourselves and the ever present mosquitoes.
Having had quite enough of the little buzzing, biting creatures this last week I was leaning towards an evening indoors with the AC on and a good book.

Well the persistence of friends overcame the reluctance and I spent more than a few hours in quiet enjoyment and awe while DEET took care of the the distractions.

A Conjunction between Mars and Saturn is happening right now above your heads, all you have to do is look up, just a little, to the South East. No other equipment other than your eyes is necessary.
There they are hanging like jewels amongst a million million other jewels.

But for us the real magic was yet to be revealed, there were three telescopes set up all pointed in the same piece of sky.
Saturn was the target.
Saturn with her rings filled the viewfinders.

Everyone who looked through those long tubes gasped in amazement.

Everyone from the absolute 'newbie' to the seasoned 'pro' stood and bowed their heads to peer into the optics and all were moved.

Discussions ranged from the obvious 'wow did you see the rings' ? to 'what does it all mean'?

Saturn held the show and held us in her magic.

Saturn, to Holst was the bringer of old age, to us she was the bringer of childhood …


“There are no seven wonders of the world in the eyes of a child. There are seven million”.. ~Walt Streightiff

This morning found me thinking about what to write. It's a busy time and trying to find some 'me time' has been difficult with no respite in sight for the near future.
However a couple of things have changed;

I resigned from a committee at the Wellington Artists Gallery
and from the Critique Group at the Photographers Guild.

However I did replace them with a new group, I joined the KW Urban Sketchers group. A loosely knit group of people who share a common thread, the love of drawing, painting and sketching.
The manifesto is simple:

We draw on location, indoors or out, capturing what we see from direct observation.
Our drawings tell the story of our surroundings, the places we live and where we travel.
Our drawings are a record of time and place.
We are truthful to the scenes we witness.
We use any kind of media and cherish our individual styles.
We support each other and draw together.

As I try to grow as an artist, recovering that which was lost so many years ago this seemed like a good trade.

Things change and we change.

Some things had to be given up to allow other things to grow...
I have just finished reading :The Tree's in my Forest” By Bernd Heinrich.

http://www.amazon.com/The-Trees-Forest-Bernd-Heinrich/dp/0060929421

Although it is about tree's and a forest, literally . The analogy between our lives and his forest are quite clear, or where too me...

Tree seedlings can sit dormant or growing very slowly for years, until conditions change, allowing them to reach for the sun and grow.
A tree crashes to earth as a result of old age, high winds or Ice. In doing so it relinquishes its hold on the canopy space.
Sunlight floods the forest floor and the sleepy seedlings reach for the skies..

In my case the tree's that fell were the committee's. In their removal a space opened up for this fledgling artist to reach for the sky.

Well that's the general idea, now where is my pencil and sketchpad ? ….

“Sometimes, to pursue a new idea, the artist must forfeit his deposit on an old idea”. ~Robert Brault

Note:
To see a larger copy of this image click the link below..

“Procrastination” has become a dirty word.
A procrastinator has become a sloth, a ne'er-do-well, someone not to be trusted.

However there was a time when we all took the time to “ponder” to “mull it over”, to “evaluate”, “ruminate”, “throw it against the wall and see what sticks” and in doing so we often come up with the correct choice.

Now instant decisions are the norm..
Well knee jerk reactions can start wars …

So what is the alternative?
Procrastinate!
If a decision doesn't have to be made today, right now, this instant and lets face it most don't, then put it off until it has to be made.

The “back burner” is where our mind still works on things subconsciously. “Sleeping on it” allows us to focus on what is really important...

“Relaxing”, “enjoying” or busily doing “nothing at all”

Oh I know there are times when we have to decide and decide quickly but I wonder how many of the day to day decisions fall into that category?

The British Army adage, the six “p's” hold true.
P!ss Poor Planning Produces Poor Performance

Or if you are of a more delicate nature, the 7 P's ..
Proper Prior Planning Prevents Pitifully Poor Performance

So ask yourself, how can you plan if you need a decision RIGHT NOW! ??

After a morning spent in the joyful pursuit of doing nothing, during the time that I set aside for myself and I might add, jealously guard. No tougher decision was made other than where to sit and what to draw and the world did not come to an end because of it ....

“One of the symptoms of an approaching nervous breakdown is the belief that one's work is terribly important.” ~Bertrand Russell

Lets talk about barns...
You see them everywhere around here in what was once a bucolic setting.
Unfortunately the trend is buy the land, tear down the barn, either quickly or leave the old place to slowly crumble as the years roll on.
Demolition by neglect

As a lover of all things 'old', some call me a 'Luddite', I hate to see this happening. What is worse I hate it when I watch and old place always thinking 'I should record this place before its gone. Because it surely will be gone' and I wait, putting off the visit as if I had all the time in the world.
Then, one day I drive by and there is a pile of burning rubble … too late.

Last week I read an article on the Urban Sketchers website, “A Farewell to Barns” it seems others are of the same mind.

http://www.urbansketchers.org/2014/07/a-farewell-to-barns.html

I made a suggestion to my friends to visit two such places nearby.

On Saturday morning we set off for the first location. As it turned out we did not reach the second location as time flew by and real world issues forced us back to reality. We packed up and headed downtown to our favourite watering hole ..OX for tea, croissants and banter before heading back to tackle the remainder of the day.

All-in-all a great morning, the weather guys were wrong (again) about the rain and thunderstorms and we had a warm, peaceful morning sitting in the shade and managed to record one old barn and outbuildings for posterity.

Sometimes 'simple' is all you need.

“Beware the barrenness of a busy life”. ~Socrates

Yesterday was 'a walk in the woods ' day.
At this time of year it should have been called a 'three doses of DEET' day!

The place, Scottsdale Farm and the wonderful meandering trails there. However it was hard to concentrate or to stop for as soon as we did we were engulfed in a swarm of bloodthirsty mosquitoes.
Incessant buzzing in my ears, tapping on my face, getting in behind my glasses. The constant, never ending onslaught made concentration difficult if not impossible.
Then there was one of those moments, we walked into a small valley and it was like walking back in time. To a time long ago when dinosaurs ruled and everything was ten times bigger than what we know and expect. The valley floor covered in waist deep jewelweed massive ancient Ash, Maple and Beech trees reached for the sky and the forest floor not covered with the jewelweed had a new coat, of young tree's.
The ice storm(s) of last winter had caused much damage to the canopy. So much so that more light was pouring in to those area's that for so long had been in deep shade. It doesn't take Mother Nature long to seize on an opportunity, the tree's began to sprout dozens if not hundreds of tiny tree's began the race to the light.

For those that look and see it was an amazing sight to behold.
But ...

… “Why didn't Noah swat those two mosquitoes”? ~Author Unknown

As you probably know these past few months I have been trying to strengthen my drawing and sketching skills having hung up my pens, pencils and brushes many years ago.

Last week I uploaded a pen and ink sketch of Goldie Mill here in Guelph.
My friend Connie added a comment or was it a challenge ?

“Are you going to make a painting of this”? She asked.
I said no but after a series of sketches at home I used a brush pen and added watercolour to it.
Then I redrew the scene once again this time on Aquarelle watercolour paper and pulled out my brushes …

The attached photo is the result “one small step for a man, one giant leap …. for me” :-)

After another quiet morning spent in the marsh at Valens Conservation Area I must admit that this sketching stuff is becoming addictive. Yes I had my camera, yes I made a few images but the overpowering serenity that one feels when just sitting, watching and listening is like a drug.


“We live in a very tense society. We are pulled apart... and we all need to learn how to pull ourselves together.... I think that at least part of the answer lies in solitude”. ~Helen Hayes

Yesterday I went to Goldie Mill Park here in Guelph.

“Nothing too unusual about that, Alan out for a walk on a Saturday morning” they say.
But this one was different in a couple of ways, firstly I was alone, the normal 'motley crew' scattered to the ends of the Earth well if you call Tobermory the ends of the earth and Helvetica (Confoederatio Helvetica) which is a bit further.

Non-the-less I was inspired by Patrick's sketches sent to tease us as he literally 'wanders abroad', old towns rendered with a loving hand no not with a tourists view and a camera but with an artists view and a pad of paper and a pen.

Where can I find such a place, close to home to scratch the itch implanted by these sketches?

I thought about it for quite a while and as sleep came on Friday evening “Goldie Mill” popped into my head.
So bright and early off I went.

The car parked, the bag recovered from the trunk like so many other times, but this time it was different. This time the bag contained pens, pencils and sketch books.
I went in search of the scene …

In a shady spot I unfolded my ridiculously expensive seat and made myself comfortable for what would be the first of three drawings worked up over the next couple of hours.

People came and went, some stopped to chat briefly one asked if she could look at what I was drawing.
A totally different experience than hiding behind a lens.

As the sun rose higher and the day warmed my hands did as they were bidden and the pen moved more gracefully.

The focus narrowed.
Time passed quickly as it always does in these instances.

But in the end a quiet satisfaction and a smile...
Time to pack up and head home..

This was so different than my usual outing and looking back I can still hear the birds, the cheery “morning” from passers by, the breeze in the tree's and feel the sun on my back.

“The artist's world is limitless. It can be found anywhere, far from where he lives or a few feet away. It is always on his doorstep”. ~Paul Strand

Yesterday was a fine day for a long walk. Just as well because the trail I was on was not the one I thought it was!
Oh well I was out and about on a great morning with good company so does it really matter where you are?

The 'Forks of the Credit' waterfalls, bridges and ruins were the destination which we never found even by going in the front way but a two hour walk along half remembered trails passed so quickly and enjoyably.
We may not have found what we went out to find but we found new things, places and spaces.
Surely that is all that is important, after all its not the destination but the journey and this journey ended with the promise to return, because …

… “In every walk with nature one receives far more than he seeks”. ~John Muir

A walk in the woods, following the trails, avoiding the mosquitoes, well trying to avoid the mosquitoes on a bright spring morning...
Yesterday was such a day.
Scottsdale Farm was our chosen destination but our wanderings took us down o the Silvercreek trails (and back). It was one of those mornings that you want to walk in forever. Sunlight filtering through the tree's and just warm enough in the shade. Birds singing in accompaniment to the brook that went laughing on its way.
Peace, quiet and a friend to share it what more could one ask on a day like this?
What a day and we are so fortunate to have places like this to enjoy such a day.

'To those who complain of the complexity of modern life, he [Henry David Thoreau] might reply, "If you want inner peace find it in solitude, not speed, and if you would find yourself, look to the land from which you came and to which you go." '~Stewart Udall, The Quiet Crisis, 1963

“And Spring arose on the garden fair,
Like the Spirit of Love felt everywhere;
And each flower and herb on Earth’s dark breast
rose from the dreams of its wintry rest”.
~Percy Bysshe Shelley, "The Sensitive Plant"

Shelley, ever the romantic ..
What he forgot to mention was the 'other things' that wake from their “wintry rest”, blackflies and mosquitoes !!
This is a time of love and hate..
The warm sun filtering through the tree's, birdsong fills the air the woodland carpet is turning from brown to green and a multitude of colour 'splashes' as the early flowers appear.
But all that is overshadowed by the 'no-see-'ums' buzzing in your ear and catching in your throat as you get a little extra protein with an unguarded breath.
Standing still to make a photograph becomes a chore as the little buggers catch up and swarm around your head. They know the perfect time to attack, a footfall lands on a root and you stumble because of what just landed in your ear.
Peering through the viewfinder trying to compose a photograph is just as difficult ...

Ah springtime in Ontario, but winter does have its attractions!

Yesterday we (the Three Amigo’s) traveled to Toronto to take in the Contact Festival but it was the AGO (Art Gallery of Ontario) that stole the show.

Not only does this structure contain so much beauty but the building itself is beautiful.

You may think of me as the wanderer in nature, he who holds nothing but disdain for the world of concrete and steel of the 'man-made' especially when it is 'modern' ..

But yesterday, I learned there can be beauty there, you just have to open your eyes and look.

“Everything has beauty, but not everyone sees it.” ~Confucius

The usual Saturday outing did happen but it was short. Usually there is very little that gets in the way of my Saturday mornings but this one was special.

Grant and Cathy were celebrating a joint birthday Cathy May 4, Grant May 16 so the party was planned for May 10.
Far be it for me to disclose the birthday number but suffice it to say I passed it long ago!

I digress...

The day may have been a bit chilly as a raw wind swept across the open fields but the conversation, the greetings of old friends (and some not so old) was warming as the spring sun.
Everywhere there was laughter and smiling faces, hours passed swiftly by ...

Ahh, to be surrounded by friends on a bright spring day is there anything better?

“In the sweetness of friendship let there be laughter, for in the dew of little things the heart finds its morning and is refreshed”. ~Khalil Gibran

Have you ever had that feeling, one where you just have to give in?
Last week one of those moments grabbed me and wouldn't let go.
Try as I might the itch HAD to be scratched.

Algonquin was singing her siren song …

Thankfully I have an understanding wife ….

The forecast was for showers, I didn't care, thats what rain gear is for. What they didn't say was it was showers interspersed with heavy rain, I still didn't care ...

Algonquin was not going to be denied her tribute and come Friday afternoon I was on my way. By 4:30 I was across the park and into Whitney and checking in at the 'Mad Musher' one of the very few places one at this time of year.

After a quick meal I was back on the road retracing my steps “moose hunting” all I saw in the fading light was a raven and a grouse. Still even though they never fail to bring a smile to my face, I wasn't there for the moose this year.
The old beaver pond area by Opeongo Road was my destination. You see I have visited this spot for several years and two years ago the landscape was transformed either by accident or design. The top beaver dam was breached and that mighty flow of water took out two more dams downstream leaving the area as it was before te beaver arrived.

Last year I witnessed a young beaver work it's way upstream.
Where they back?
Was there a partial dam built?
I had to see...

But I waited until Saturday morning.

Up before dawn, well the gray was lightening slowly and the rain was gentle, I set off.
I parked the car at the usual spot and walked back to the trail...

I hear water, too much water .. no dam...

Damn !

Still I was there, the itch scratched, my favourite spot still there waiting, so I sat a while, watching, listening, taking it all in as if for the first time and smiling inwardly.

I took out my phone to answer a text from my wife .. “Happy Anniversary Sweetheart” …
Have I told you recently just how much I love you ?

I am truly blessed
You see ..

“You can fall in love at first sight with a place as with a person”. ~Alec Waugh

Is there anything better than wandering in the woods with good friends on a Spring morning?
I love Winter but this one stayed way past it's welcome but now Spring will not be ignored and there is a 'bursting forth' of everything that is Spring.

The woods are filled with birdsong, the Spring Peepers are chorusing from the ponds now free of winters grip.

The earth smells rich and new and everywhere new life is emerging.

In the sheltered places the sun's warmth is evident, jackets are unzipped, gloves are gone, smiles are on everyone's face.
There is a lightening of one's step

Ahh Spring in the Northern woods …

A 'good to be alive' feeling

What a day!

“And Spring arose on the garden fair,
Like the Spirit of Love felt everywhere;
And each flower and herb on Earth's dark breast
rose from the dreams of its wintry rest”.
~Percy Bysshe Shelley, "The Sensitive Plant"

Yesterday was one of those rare occasions, a Saturday morning that saw me not out on the trails but dragging boxes into Dublin St Church.

You see yesterday was the 20th Annual Show and Sale, and I was able to participate for a second year.
Not only was it the first show of the year but it was a time to reconnect with friends both old and new, artists and customers.

Walking in I was greeted by many of the participants, warm smiles everywhere.

As the room filled with the hustle and bustle of participants getting their booths ready laughter was the language of the day.

Being part of a show is hard work, no one sees the hours of preparation that goes into such an endeavor but when the booth is finished and I wait for 'showtime' all of that is forgotten.

This day, so many visitors came by, so many familiar faces, many curious to see “what was new”, many just dropping by to say hello and renew a connection.

Some to buy another image.

New faces offering congratulations and kind words of appreciation of my work.

All were very welcome and all left a warm glow behind.

My friends, my constant companions and fellow photographers.
Some bearing gifts, all bearings grins. In particular Patrick and Doug thank you for the “Pain au Chocolat” from our usual Saturday morning haunt .. OX cafe.

Your thoughtfulness was truly appreciated

To Bunny, Ken, 'Big' Doug, Ralf, Paul, Lynette, Gregg, and everyone else who I inadvertently 'ignored'. (I didn't get to stand and chat too long because of the constant flow of visitors to greet).
I would like to say “thank you” for taking the time to drop by.

I need to say a special thank you to Cathy and Brit for all their help in putting this show together and taking it all apart at the end of the day without your help I would have been even more frazzled than I was.

We were all tired (exhausted may seem like too strong a word) but it was a great day …

I am truly blessed.

“Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around.” ~Leo Buscaglia

Another Saturday outing and once more the camera stayed in the bag, replaced by a sketchpad and pencil.
Is this photography? I mean I am recording a scene, putting it down on paper but not with photosensitive chemicals but with carbon ..

No matter.

The freedom of just sitting, watching and letting the hand follow the eye is so satisfying. Even if what is happening on the paper before me is not perfect (by a long shot!). It's almost secondary to the enjoyment.

The freedom to let it happen, to open up to the possibilities seen and unseen.

The freedom to interpret in a non photographic way

The freedom to let go.

Eventually you come back to the present and you find an hour has past and your paper is covered in thoughts and interpretations of what has passed before your eye during that time.

Yes,satisfying ....

"The artist is a receptacle for the emotions that come from all over the place: from the sky, from the earth, from a scrap of paper, from a passing shape, from a spider's web." ~Pablo Picasso

“Ya don't know what you've got 'till it's gone” well temporarily I hope.
Yesterday was the first time in a long time that I was not able to go for my usual Saturday morning outing because somewhere last week I did something, I don't know what, when or where but by Thursday I could barely walk. By Friday I couldn't walk at all without the help of a cane.
So I sent the dreaded email to my friends, “sorry I won't be able to join you this weekend” …
What made it worse was we had plans to visit my old friend Grant who dearly needed an outing. Fortunately the outing went ahead without me.
So what do you do when sitting is a pain in the butt (literally) and walking is out of the question?
Well luckily I have stacks of paper and sharp pencils and a comfy spot to sit.
In the fridge, a bunch of red grapes, in the dining room an unopened bottle of red wine and a selection of glasses.
A still life sketch soon took shape.
Then once it was redrawn on heavy paper, the medium was chosen;
Coloured Pencil...
Yes that was the way to go as this second rendering was to be the work up for the final rendering in watercolour.
I'm quite happy with the result today I may start on a watercolour ….


My quote for the day is, well sorta maybe appropriate to the subject but it is one of my favourites and never fails to bring a smile and a sage nod of the head ...

“When my daughter was about seven years old, she asked me one day what I did at work. I told her I worked at the college — that my job was to teach people how to draw. She stared at me, incredulous, and said, "You mean they forget?"” ~Howard Ikemoto

No photographs from our outing yesterday. It was a day of sketching, talking, drinking tea and catching up with old friends.

We started at the farmers market and ended up in downtown Guelph. Quite a change from our usual Saturday morning but enjoyable non-the-less.

Sometimes 'making an image' does not mean using a camera.
Sometimes it is going back to basics, a pencil and a piece of paper.

Sometimes it takes 1/1000 of a second.
Sometimes it takes half an hour.

But taking the slow road leads to an inner journey as well.
Time stops,
everything around you moves differently
vision is tunneled
hearing and touch are heightened
snippets of conversation are caught, totally out of context but interesting non-the-less
And all the time the mind, the eye and the hand act as one and slowly an image appears. Incorporating all that you see, hear, feel and imagine.
But this is all happening without conscious thought. The mind is free to wander and imagine and control the hand.

So very satisfying, so very relaxing..

Work-a-day stress ?
Whats that ?
Not this day, not when you are sitting quietly with a pencil, paper, tea and friends ...

"The time to relax is when you don't have time for it." ~Attributed to both Jim Goodwin and Sydney J. Harris

Ask anyone who knows me, they will all attest to my love of winter.
However this one has been a bit too cold and is becoming a bit too long.
So this weekend we walked the Niska Trails here in Guelph 'looking for signs of spring'.
A bitter North wind was there but in the lee of the tree's along the river, a place where the strengthening sun made an appearance there was warmth.

Sitting by the river, listening to her sing on her merry way, freed from her icy prison once again. Listening ,with the sun on your face one could very easily be fooled into thinking spring had arrived.

Then, as we walked around the loop and we approached the Northern side of the woods winter was waiting ...

As we approached the wind saw us coming and raced across the open fields and found it's way through the tree's to send shivers through us.

Two seasons in one morning ....

"It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold: when it is summer in the light, and winter in the shade.: ~Charles Dickens, Great Expectations

Yesterday I began a journey, a journey back.
Yesterday I had my 'first' lesson in watercolour painting.

Constance, my teacher, a very accomplished watercolourist in her own right has been cajoling me, poking me with a metaphoric stick and pushing me towards this day.

Yesterday I gave in ...

But I had been preparing, recently my friend Patrick loaned me yet another book:
Art and Fear by David Bayles and Ted Orland..

In that book I saw myself:
You see in 1994 'the pen ran dry' and I put away my brushes, paints, paper and all the accouterments of my art.
I quit, or did I stop ?

" Quitting is fundamentally different from stopping. The latter happens all the time.
Quitting happens once. Quitting means never starting again-and art is all about starting again"

So, I stopped, for 20 years. Now it's time to start again.

But oh its hard and it's frustrating. I look back at what I did and I look at what I do now and wonder,
Why?
Will I ever be able to paint and draw again?
Can I get back that which is lost?

Again words come " you are as good today as you can be" that is not as good as I once was .... but tomorrow will be different, "tomorrow I will be as good as I can be tomorrow."


"An artist's career always begins tomorrow". ~James McNeill Whistler

p.s To some, the one minute sketch may look like a scribbled mess but to me I see life,
to me I see the essence of a person,
to me I see a beginning..

As part of my renewed interest in drawing, sketching and painting I am reading a book by Ernest W. Watson entitled 'The Art of Pencil Drawing' first published in 1968 so it is my no means new in fact this book was written shortly before he died in 1969.
Old it may be, outdated ? Absolutely not. The man was a master of the pencil and an excellent writer/teacher.

This blog post is about one small section of his book, his love of tree's, in particular dead tree's.
Now that to some may sound morbid but let me explain in his words;

"Tree's, like human beings, often do astonishing things. Their eccentricities are intriguing. They twist and turn in the most unexpected ways-almost always, it would seem with an instinctive sense of good design. And when they die , they do so with dignity and artistry....
... For it is the skeletal structure of tree's that fascinates me, particularly those that are aged enough to display the character which they have acquired during their lifetime"

I look upon old tree's this way also, they are truly majestic in their own way. As they age and decay the bark falls revealing the essence of their character the colours, hues, textures become a road map, fascinating in its complexity or simplicity.

Yesterday while walking in the Arboretum woods. We stopped to examine and old, dead tree, no more than a stump really, slowly returning to the forest floor that bore it many many years ago.
Fungi, lichens, insects had all taken up residence and added new life to that which had passed on.
Patrick talked of the tiny fungi/lichens that were visible not to long ago but eluded of meager vision now.
We may not have been able to see them but no matter, we could see where they had been.
Another landmark on the map that is the life of this tree that still stands with "dignity and artistry.."

Next time you are out and pass by one stop for a while, look closer and listen to the stories it has to tell

"The oaks and the pines, and their brethren of the wood, have seen so many suns rise and set, so many seasons come and go, and so many generations pass into silence, that we may well wonder what "the story of the trees" would be to us if they had tongues to tell it, or we ears fine enough to understand." ~Author Unknown, quoted in Quotations for Special Occasions by Maud van Buren, 1938

Towards the end of the work week is when we start to firm up our 'Saturday outings' plans.
This time however one of the Three Amigo's was in a bit of a creative slump. I was in the mood for an adventure.

Recently I had visited the Belgian Nurseries which is very close to where I live, I was looking for a particular plant that my wife was interested in.
What I found was a world of photographic and artistic wonders. I could not wait to visit with my cameras and sketch books.
I spoke with someone who I thought was the owner, seeking permission to wander around and they were most accommodating.

So therein lies the problem, me desperate to go and revisit, my amigo ...well not so much.. "a great pile of pots, eh"? Was his reply as I tried to fire his imagination...

Despite his trepidation he came along trusting me. Heck he even drove!

After our arrival it took only a few minutes he pulled out a camera and he was off. Three hours went by in no time at all we barely remember any of it in a flurry of creation, camera's clicking pens and pencils flying across clean white pages.

All too soon it was time to leave Doug said "OK now you can say I told you so" but I didn't because I wasn't sure he would see what I saw.
He admitted that he had been to the nurseries many times seeking out plants or bits and pieces for the garden but never realised what was there.
My explanation was 'but then you were not seeing as a photographer sees'.
Me? I'm just happy that once more my friend trusted me to come along and that his trust in my judgment was not misplaced.

"As you start to walk out on the way, the way appears". ~Rumi

Yesterday was one of those days ...

One of those days that tell you, in no uncertain terms that the seasons are turning once again.
Across the open fields, the chill wind spoke of Winter but in the groves of tree's the delicate warmth of an ever strengthening sun cut through the chill to warm the body, the mind and the soul.

And flocks of geese fill the skies ...

The signs are everywhere if you only take the time to stop, look and listen.

Yes there maybe another snow storm on the way and my friends in England are tolerating tremendous gales and flooding but the armies of spring are on their way and will not be denied.

"Hark! the hours are softly calling
Bidding Spring arise
To listen to the rain-drops falling
From the cloudy skies
To listen to Earth's weary voices
Louder every day
Bidding her no longer linger
On her charm'd way
But hasten to her task of beauty
Scarcely yet begun".
~Adelaide Anne Procter

When it's -20c outside and you have the choice between staying in a warm bed or getting up, getting dressed, throwing your gear and snowshoes into the car and heading out, how many would choose the latter?
Well I know three who would.
Two of the 'Amigo's" met in a local parking lot. The third "Amigo" Doug was digging himself out of the snowdrifts around his cottage but he was with us in spirit.

In February the winter lies deep, the woods are silent, the air crisp, clean and invigorating.
We walked for an hour, pausing occasionally to take in a scene or just to listen to the silence. Then we moved on again our only companion was the crunch of fresh fallen snow under our snowshoes.

As Doug would call it "glad to be alive weather".

February; deep winter but the sun is beginning its slow march north and gaining in strength as each day passes...

"It is the life of the crystal, the architect of the flake, the fire of the frost, the soul of the sunbeam. This crisp winter air is full of it". ~John Burroughs, "Winter Sunshine"

To some, it can be a humbling experience, to others just a walk with friends...

I'm sure that Doug will agree that an outing with Patrick is always the former. Yesterday the "Three Amigo's" met at the Arboretum in the U of G.
The softly falling snow was really a harbinger of things to come, that is why Doug was home instead of in Tobermory.

So the "Three Amigo's" rode again.

A wonderfully soft morning, the biting cold had abated at least for a few days, the snow deep the light perfect, the banter warming.

We wandered the woods waiting for images to present themselves.

Coming together, drifting apart, watching, looking, feeling, waiting...


"While there is perhaps a province in which the photograph can tell us nothing more than what we see with our own eyes, there is another in which it proves to us how little our eyes permit us to see". ~Dorothea Lange

The snows lie deep after yet another storm.

Normally I would be out enjoying this weather but
I am at home recovering after surgery this last week.

Still it doesn't mean I cannot record an image or two. My 'Photo of the Week' this week was taken through the window..
An image of my BBQ, sculptured by Winters hand.

As my tag line on my email says "In the right light, at the right time, everything is extraordinary." ~Aaron Rose

This is especially true in winter.
The landscape is transformed into a world of black and white. Mother Natures colourful pallette has been put away and replaced with charcoal, pencil and ink.
No less beautiful, just different if you have the eyes to see....


'[W]hat a severe yet master artist old Winter is.... No longer the canvas and the pigments, but the marble and the chisel'. ~John Burroughs, "The Snow-Walkers," 1866

When we stepped out from the shelter of the tree's the wind cut like a knife. Whipping across the frozen marshes to find us then seeking out all the chinks in our armour. Fingers refused to work after a minute or two, glasses and camera viewfinder fogged up with each breath.

Welcome to Canada in the winter ...

I am always amazed at how anything survives our brutally cold winter season especially the birds. The tiny Chickadee's, the Nuthatch, and the Junco's; so small, so fragile and yet so resilient.

Grindstone Marsh in the Botanical Gardens, Burlington is a magical place in all seasons but in winter the tree's are alive with birds who over winter here and are well fed by the people who come for a walk and bring bags of bird food.

If you are up and about and are the first to break trail in a morning you are welcomed, first by flocks of chickadee's who then attract the larger birds.
Mr and Mrs Cardinal couples arrive, then the Blue Jays, all looking for a breakfast handout after a cold night
Just as suddenly as they arrive they vanish, the woods silent, no excited chirping, no 'chick-a-dee-dee' sounds.. Why?

Well if you look up you will see why, all this fuss has caught the attention of the local bad guy.
High above, the hawk circles looking for his breakfast too.

Everyone sits quietly until he moves on then they are back flocking around once more.
What a great way to raise your spirits on a cold morning to watch the antics of our feathered friends and to wonder how on earth they survived the night...

"Those little nimble musicians of the air, that warble forth their curious ditties, with which nature hath furnished them to the shame of art." ~Izaak Walton

No photographs this week, nary a one...
I cannot remember the last time I didn't have any images.
In my defence I did try, on the way out of the Ignatius Centre yesterday I stopped to photograph an apple tree in the fog. Looked good 'in phone' but I had the sizing all wrong in reality its the size of a postage stamp, so no help there.

However, yesterday Patrick and I ( the third amigo, Doug is sick with something that we don't want to catch so he is banished for a week) met at the Ignatius Centre here in Guelph. The plan was to wander the foggy lanes or if it was too icy / rainy then we would venture indoors for some pencil and paper time.
The driveway was impossibly icy and so was the parking lot.
Rain on ice = walking on ball bearings, so we headed indoors to seek out interesting subjects to draw.

One thing I have found with sitting down with a pad and pencil is time simply vanishes. We sat down at about 8:00am and next thing its 11:00 am and three sketches had appeared in my sketch book

A quote from Bert Dodson in his book Keys to Drawing confirmed my suspicions..

" Ordinarily, involvement in a drawing is like involvement in a dream. You are seldom aware of the passage of time"

So it's not just me ..

So my blog this week is about the other, older form of 'painting with light', drawing and its use as a time machine.

Its not all about photography these days.

In recent months a spark was lit which slowly produced a flame. A flame fed by the comments of others and old memories. In the corner of my closet the whispers became more insistent there in the corner sat my sketchbooks, watercolour paints, pencils and pens and long ignored work.

I mentioned in a blog post back in September of last year how I finally I gave in, took down the boxes and with baby steps picked up where I had left off all those years ago. It was the mid 1990's when I stopped painting it was time to put that to rights.

Fast forward to today, the sketchbooks are in constant use, the 'photo outings' on Saturday mornings were followed by tea and conversation. Now there is a new twist; tea, conversation and sketching. Well the conversation dies quickly when the sketchbooks appear but no matter the friendship and camaraderie remain as pencils and pens work to capture what is before us or at least what we see before us.

Yesterday it was Doug and I at Quebec St Mall (a good place to hide from winters icy grip). Somehow an hour disappeared but a drawing or two appeared in the sketchbooks and a "peaceful, easy feeling" to quote the Eagles had fallen upon us.

It's quite amazing how that happens. Maybe it is the returning to something deep within, the need to express what we see using simple tools instead of modern day technology. The time taken is repaid with satisfaction, the longer it takes the greater the satisfaction.

"Art enables us to find ourselves and lose ourselves at the same time". ~ Thomas Merton

As the year draws to a close another winter getaway ends.
This year we were treated to the hospitality of our friend Doug who shared his new abode in Tobermory with us.

Having a common gathering, eating and relaxing space made such a difference. The food, tea, banter and an occasional wee dram made for relaxing evenings, even the scent of Raclette cheese didn't dampen our spirits actually it added to the ambiance. Luckily it didn't linger for more than a day ;-)

I'm sure that Patrick would join me in extending a hearty thank you to both Doug for playing the perfect host and to Lynn for letting him.

Doug, Lynn and Patrick
Thanks guys it was truly memorable.

"The greatest gift of life is friendship, and I have received it." ~ Hubert H. Humphrey

The wheel has turned once more, the darkest day is behind us.
From this day on the sun gets stronger as he begins his long journey Northwards.
Or..
Christ is born, let the world rejoice

To many this is a special time, be they Christian or Pagan, the one thread that binds all together is the wish for Peace on Earth and Goodwill towards Men.

"Christmas is not a time nor a season, but a state of mind.
To cherish peace and goodwill, to be plenteous in mercy, is to have the real spirit of Christmas."
~Calvin Coolidge

A freezing cold morning, the sun had not yet risen.
In fact it wouldn't rise today, just a lightening of the leaden sky as the snow began to fall. Of course we were out already racing the non existent dawn to get to the Blue Springs Trails
At -15c the snow was powder, the trails relatively unmarked, we noted that a coyote had passed this way sometime in the night, the odd squirrel and mouse tracks revealed the presence of some life in this frozen land.

Photography was hard this day, frozen fingers fumbling with tiny buttons on icy cold equipment a breath caused instant fog on the optical surfaces.

So why were we out there?

For the love of the craft
For the love of "being outdoors"
For the fellowship that may not warm the fingers but warmed the heart.
Indeed laughter echoed through the woods that morning conversation ebbed and flowed as images were taken quickly.

"All trails lead to Rome" said Doug.... No "all trails lead to OX and tea and croissants" said I as we started the homeward leg of the trail.

Soon the cold was forgotten we were back in downtown Guelph, sitting with tea, latte's and comfort food. More laughter, more chat as our toes returned to normal and our fingers thawed ...

Another great morning or as Doug (sort of) put it

"Being out in the woods, especially in winter makes you feel alive"

I think we all agreed with that.

"There are moments when all anxiety and stated toil are becalmed in the infinite leisure and repose of nature." ~ Henry David Thoreau

Another weekend, another walk in the woods..
Silvercreek Trails beckoned once again but we shouldn’t have worried there is so much to ‘see’ there.

We decided to follow a portion of a previously walked trail which joined a new-to-us trail for the return leg. The differences that a few yards make was amazing.
As we followed the first leg the scenery was shattered Dolomite, crevasses that were so deep that the light could not penetrate, tumbles of rocks, and worn steps made by many feet and weather over the years.
Across the valley the bare tree’s made a tapestry from textures.
When the trail split we took the left trail that looped back to our starting point.

Around us the tree’s creaked and complained, disturbed by the wind.
But no birds sang, no critters scampered across the leaf strewn floor. It was like the whole woods were holding its collective breath and waiting....

Here the forest floor was soft with fallen leaves, easy walking

At one point we heard voices and a stream of hikers came by, power walking along the trail. Not one of them stopped to look around. They saw nothing but the trail ahead and disappeared down it.
Some had ‘Bruce Trail’ emblems on their day packs I wondered if they were on a pilgrimage, hiking from one end to the other. Not to walk and enjoy but to walk a section, cross it off the list and move on.

Not my idea of a good time but ....

Once again the woods fell silent and we strolled on, stopping here and there to study a small stream, a clump of plants, a fallen tree or a mushroom.
All the important stuff

Finally we came back to the pond, the same pond that we have visited three times in the last few weeks but now it is covered in a thick layer of ice.

How did that happen so fast?
In the blink of an eye winter had appeared.

“What a severe yet master artist old Winter is.... No longer the canvas and the pigments, but the marble and the chisel.” ~John Burroughs, "The Snow-Walkers," 1866

“In this twentieth century, to stop rushing around, to sit quietly on the grass, to switch off the world and come back to the earth, to allow the eyes to see a willow, a bush, a cloud, a leaf, is ‘ an unforgettable experience’ “
~ Frederick Franck,The Zen of Seeing

This week the quote is at the beginning ...

Thinking of Franck’s words, of this statement, made me realise why I cling to my Saturday mornings.
Modern life takes us away from what is important or maybe it is we who allow ourselves to be lured away, responding to the siren song of the times.

I know that I while I am part of the concrete, the noise, the hustle and bustle of modern life ... I am not whole.
Monday to Friday I pay the piper, the pound of flesh is demanded and grudgingly paid.

The anticipation begins around mid week and builds until Saturday morning when things change,

I walk the trails and the modern day world slowly melts into insignificance.

Out there surrounded by the sounds of the forest the sirens sing a different song, one that I give myself too gladly and in the giving I am freed once more
Out there, amongst the tree’s, feeling the wind and snow chill my face and fingers I am at my happiest.

Simple pleasures, the tree’s, whispering tales of what is coming, birdsong from the chickadee’s, the sound of something moving through the brush up ahead and finally catching a glimpse of a deer at the edge of a meadow.
We watch him as he watches us...

We spy a Northern Shrike that quietly sits on a branch, an elusive ghost visiting from the northern woods brings delight and answers the question 'what's wrong with the chickadees this morning?' as they call out a warning...

All this becomes important and it is why I cling to my Saturday mornings

Friendship ....

I have talked about this several times but once in a while something happens and reminds you of how important friendship is to us all.

Yesterday was a typical Saturday, that meant being out of the door long before sunrise. A meet up at the usual spot but this time it was different, this time Doug was home and not at the cottage.

The Three Amigo's rode again ...

It was a great morning, we planned to revisit Limehouse (near Rockwood ON). A place of great natural beauty and part of the Bruce Trail system.
Patrick had never been so that made it even more special.

We walked the trails to 'Hole in the Wall' and became lost in details , shattered rocks, fallen tree's, some old, some new. Then the snow came and the landscape was transformed.
I ask you is there anything better than a walk in the woods on a snowy day with close friends who share the same mindset?

I don't think so.

Afterwards we retired to our usual spot, OX in downtown Guelph. Although it has been "found" by the students and laptops abound. We were still able to find a spot to sit, drink tea and other "frothy coffee" drinks and munch on forbidden fruit. That would be croissants and butter tarts (for some of us)

The conversation drifted around and around from serious to whimsical and back again. We talked of anything and everything and laughed a lot.

At one point Doug remarked how much he misses these times and we all agreed.
Good times, good food and great company.

And all is right with the world.

At least for a little while.

Friendship is a sheltering tree. ~Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Saturday morning dawned bright and cold, quite a change from the past few weekends. This meant being in place for dawn that meant an early start, a really early start.

We arrived at our chosen trailhead in the gray/blue light of predawn., kitted up and headed down the trail.

There were three this time and Andrew yawned his way through the woods. Still he was awake enough to think ... His comment "being out at dawn is like sunset only I have the rest of the day ahead of me" made me smile.

We walked until something caught our attention, that tiny voice that said 'look here' and we stopped, barely a kilometer along the trail but covering a prescribed distance is not the object, its the journey and if we only walk a hundred meters and something finds us then so be it.

For me it was a slight clearing, a stream of blue juxtaposed with the warm tones of Autumn, the sun beginning to paint the forest floor with golden light.

Yes this was the spot for me, for all of us really but each one sought out his own muse as our breath hung in the air and Jack Frost nipped at our fingers.

Magic, pure magic. ...

Cherish your visions and your dreams as they are the children of your soul, the blueprints of your ultimate achievements. ~ Napoleon Hill

The days shorten, the wind has an 'edge' to it now.
Dark clouds replace the white of summer and the Trembling Aspen whisper of what is to come.
Fall in Ontario, not only has it arrived it is deeply encamped and prepares the way for the arrival of winter as the wheel turns once more.

Many people begin their hibernation at this time but for those who venture out there is a clarity to the air, a freshness that was not there before.

The woods smell not only of fallen leaves but pine, balsam and spruce scent the air
The squirrels race around gathering food and forgetting where half of it is hidden.
Fewer birds sing now as the land prepares itself for a long sleep
And the snows begin to fall....

What a great time to be alive.

And this, our life, exempt from public haunt, finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, sermons in stones, and good in everything. ~ William Shakespeare

Once more unto the breach dear friends...
Yes another rainy weekend in Southern Ontario.

Out on the sodden trails again, same place, same rain., same feelings, different company.

If you look, listen and wait the opportunities present themselves. It took 2 hours to walk about half a mile. But that half a mile was filled with potential.
When everything is wet a whole new world opens up, colours intensify, contrast increases, shape, form, and textures become more evident and you know black and white season is upon us.

But you have to put yourself in the right frame of mind.

Forget the rain trickling down your neck, the spattered glasses and lenses and open your mind to what is before you. Listen with your eyes and see with your ears ...

"And while I stood there I saw more than I can tell, and I understood more than I saw; for I was seeing in a sacred manner the shapes of things in the spirit, and the shape of all shapes as they must live together like one being." ~ Black Elk, Lakota

Yesterday was a dark and stormy day, but I ventured out anyway. You see, when people ask how I manage to get the images I get, the answer is you have to put yourself in the place and time when they appear. Because "In the right light, at the right time, everything is extraordinary". ~Aaron Rose

If that time is in the pouring rain then so be it.

But it's not all about the photography, sometimes it's just being out there. A time away a time to tune out the roar and listen for the silence. I have talked many times about this because I need it, we all need it but some don't go find it and live their lives in the turmoil of 'modern living'

I cannot, even on a day like yesterday

You see there is no 'bad' weather just poor preparation . Yesterday was all about rain gear, from hat to boots, waterproof everything.
Proper dress means that you can enjoy the day.

In the woods on a day such as yesterday there is a peace. The rain falls softly here onto the leaf strewn ground, sometimes fast staccato bursts other times a gentle pitter patter while high above the wind moans.
Not many animals or birds venture out but the occasional chirp or rustling makes you aware of their presence. We are never truly alone.

Standing by the pond, sheltered by the tree's I watch as the sleet, driven by the wind dances across the water. A constant, yet changing pattern dictated by the whims of the wind. I go closer and watch as fallen leaves are pushed from the lee of the shore out into the maelstrom.

It sure beats TV!

"Sunshine is delicious, rain is refreshing, wind braces us up, snow is exhilarating; there is really no such thing as bad weather, only different kinds of good weather." ~John Ruskin

It was a long, tiring weekend.
Seven of us, all members of the Guelph Photographers Guild, put on a show at the Guelph Studio Tour. We were at Dublin St Church where we cleared the Hallman Room and set up our booths.At 7:00 pm the doors were officially opened and the crowds rushed in...well OK the crowds trickled in in one's and two's ...We had about 20 visitors all with positive responses to our work with 2 sales made on opening night !

A good start

We knew Saturday would be a killer.On your feet from 10:00-6:00 in a stuffy, hot room.But I lost count, early on, of the number of visitors we had. A constant stream sometimes overwhelming, sometimes ones and two's with very few breaks.
Not that I am complaining.We all made sales, some more than others. Ken certainly rose to the occasion on his first time as part of the tour, chatting to everyone who came near and sold 3 images by the end of the day In between selling Stephen was busy giving info and direction to prospective Guild members.Sunday was a little easier, the doors opened at 11:00 am. And after a short lull people flocked in, some returned to make purchases previously viewed on Friday or Saturday. Others dropped in after church all seemed genuinely interested in our displays with many encouraging comments. Sales would have been better but ...

I look upon these things as a networking opportunity and gave out about 60-70 cards and directed several people to Stephen who talked to them about Guild Membership.

By 4:00 pm the crowds were dwindling and the last hour was difficult. Tired and sore from standing all weekend it was hard to keep focused with no one in the room but we made it through and started to talk of next year when we can do it all over again....

"Seventy percent of success in life is showing up". ~Woody Allen

How long do you stand and wait?

Minutes, seconds, hours, months?

You, yes you laddie (tip of the hat to Pink Floyd and 'The Wall), call yourself a photographer ? When all you do is drive by, have a quick look at a scene, maybe fire off a shot or two and be on your way?

Photography is an art of patience, sometimes we forget that just because we record that fleeting moment in an instant doesn't mean that we did not have to wait for that moment to arrive.

A case in point..

On Saturday morning we stole a few hours to drive the back roads looking for fog.

Having found a suitable location we waited, recording a few images yes but waiting. You see we were after the sunrise, that one moment when it crested the tree's and began to flood the valley with light. Several images were taken as the moment came and went.

But that isn't all, you see we also wait to see what else happens, not only in this one spot but in this local area.
Maybe not for today but for how a future sunrise will affect the scene. For tomorrow is different from today but the information is stored away for another time and we will be back to stand and wait in expectation. Waiting for the moment that we envisage to (hopefully) materialise.

My friend Patrick has taught me that and constantly reminds me.
I think it has made me a better observer therefore a better photographer.

Patience ...

Adopt the pace of nature: her secret is patience. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

It has been a rough couple of weeks.
A death in the family made for some emotionally charged times..

On September 24 my Father-in-Law of over 25 years, Frank was finally released from his long battle with cancer. He had been cared for at home by my Mother-in-Law Doris for as long as she could manage. His final days were at Carpenter House Hospice in Burlington.
Throughout this time his spirit was unbroken as witnessed by us all ..

No complaints, no regrets just a simple statement which summed up the man;

" I am truly blessed to have had such a wonderful family"

I hope I can have that sort of dignity and strength of character.

At his Memorial I was asked to read a poem, it serves as my quote for this week;

"When I come to the end of the road
And the sun has set on me
I want no rites in a gloom filled room
Why cry for a soul set free?
Miss me a little - but not too long
And not with your head bowed low
Remember the love that we once shared
Miss me -but let me go
This is journey we all must make
And each must go alone
It's all a part of the Master's plan
A step on the road to home
When you are alone and sick at heart
Go to the friends you know
And bury your sorrow in doing good deeds
Miss me - but let me go."

` Author unknown

He will be sorely missed by us all

The woods, I can never get enough of the time I spend there. It doesn’t have to be far they just have to ‘be’.
Saturday morning began with an early start, on the road at 6:15am and off to the Silvercreek Trails. It was just as well we started early as the old bridge road was closed. They were repairing the approach to the bridge and ‘renewing’ the bridge itself..
‘Renewing’ meant ‘replacing’ and although they were trying I don’t think the place will ever be the same.
Locals we spoke to either refused to go and look or suspected the same as I. The old bridge was gone, to be replaced by a replica.
But at least it isn’t one of those concrete slab monstrosities that are functional yet soulless
I digress, back to the woods ...

All week long we have had fog and it did last until Saturday. Except not in the woods but the call of the falls and the singing of the brook upstream from the falls was a siren song not to be denied. Too much time was spent here and by the time we emerged the fog was gone.
However for a very brief moment the fog tried to filter in through the tree’s and for that moment the magic unfolded. My photo of the week is my attempt at recreating what I saw, felt and heard.
A colour image did not nearly convey all that but the honesty of Black and White, with a hint of sepia did.

Yes we may have tarried too long and missed most of what we were originally seeking but ,as often happens, it was replaced by something more meaningful.
An image of tree’s slowly melting into the mist...

‘There is a way that nature speaks, that land speaks. Most of the time we are simply not patient enough, quiet enough to pay attention to the story.” ~Linda Hogan

Is everyone turning to art?

I was talking to a fellow photographer yesterday and the subject of painting came up. Once more the truth emerged, "yes I have a box full of paints and brushes that have sat unused for many years...."

It seems that every week I find a frustrated artist amongst my fellow photographers.

So why did they put down the brush and pencil?
And why years later do they begin to explore these other mediums of expression?

I don't have the answer, not even for myself. My box(es) of paints, pencils, pens
et al have sat ignored for almost fifteen years. but recently their siren song was becoming too much to ignore.
I dusted off the books and boxes went back through my sketch books reliving times when the kids were young and the world was different and I began taking those tentative steps again.

Recently I spoke of the tangible 'feelings' of beginning a new sketch / drawing.
A beginning that is so foreign to the world of photography.
No matter how we approach our hobby it is still mechanical, cold even and completed in an instant.
Creating a drawing/painting/sketch is different, it takes time and a greater degree of involvement and concentration this in itself is an escape.

Is this what we 'frustrated artists' are looking for as we begin to explore or re-discover the simpler process of putting pen to paper,?
An escape?

One friend began this journey having never sketched anything, ever.
He didn't think he could draw but that didn't stop the creative urge.

Another has begun exploring watercolour (arguably the most difficult of mediums) as an outlet for his creativity. In his words "photography is getting complicated"

Maybe that's it, maybe we are seeking a simpler avenue of expression. After all the neolithic caveman felt the need to express himself and record the world around him. This creative need, runs deep and for some, cannot be denied. No matter the medium we choose it makes us who we are, it completes us, it sets us free.

"What art offers is space - a certain breathing room for the spirit". ~John Updike

I had a Discussion yesterday:

Noise

That all invasive, never ending racket that surrounds us, day in, day out.
And how some are immune or at least have learned to ignore it the latter being more truthful I think.

Unfortunately I cannot ignore it I wish it were that easy but there is a place where 'the noise' recedes and and other more favourable noise comes to the fore.

Yesterday I stood in the Fall woods listening to the noise but
this noise was a welcome noise

This noise was natural
This noise soothes
This noise opens the mind, clears the senses and allows the muses to visit
This noise .....

... The wind high in the Fall tree's, speaking of things to come.
In its rustling there are whispers of winter winds and soft snowy days

... The brook sings with laughter and babbles off to join other brooks that will join rivers and they will head back to the sea.
And as it goes it tells tales of what was. Tales of spring when it was released from Winters icy grip and was allowed to flow, unfettered once again.

... The lowly Chickadee sings his song, a different song from the one he sings in the Spring when his world is full of promise and easy days.

.. The Blue Jay calls out a warning that nothing is permanent and the woods are changing once again.

... The squirrel clattering through the tree's and across the leaf covered ground searching, ever searching for he knows what is coming and his industry reminds me to prepare.

All this noise washes away the man made noise that fills our ears and minds. The roar of traffic is still there but is muffled beyond recognition, Mother Nature has control here and she will not let 'man' interfere.

And if you stand, silently and let her song come to you maybe, just maybe you will learn something of yourself and the world around you....

.... "It is only when we silent the blaring sounds of our daily existence that we can finally hear the whispers of truth that life reveals to us, as it stands knocking on the doorsteps of our hearts." ~K.T. Jong

The wheel turns, and Autumn is upon us, the ending of another cycle of the year.
Not only for the plants but also for one of us.

The wheel of life is coming full circle for one special person, a person whom I have looked up to and respected for almost 30 years.

Frank is my Father-in-Law and I consider myself lucky to have known such a man for so long.
Yes it’s hard to watch him slowly succumb to cancer but I find strength in the knowing that he will live on in the hearts and minds of those who know him; his family, friends, co-workers and acquaintances.

Yes I know it comes to us all eventually and I hope that I can be remembered for the same reasons as I will remember Frank.

Some may think it premature to talk this way ‘before’ but he and I have had ‘the’ conversations he knows how I feel about him and more importantly I know he knows.
And in the knowing I find peace and comfort .
I hope that he feels the same.

To you I say if you have not had the conversations with your loved ones do it, do it now.

They are not easy but you too will know and they will know that you know....

“The one red leaf, the last of its clan,
That dances as often as dance it can,
Hanging so light, and hanging so high,
On the topmost twig that looks up at the sky.”
~Samuel Taylor Coleridge

I must admit I am quite enjoying my return to my sketch books and pencils.

There is something relaxing in just sitting quietly and taking in the scenery, pencil in hand, paper at the ready, waiting for inspiration.

So different from the time I take to survey a scene to photograph it.
The very action of photographing is so fast, whereas the act of drawing is without doubt the antithesis of the photographic process.

This morning I sat in the Japanese Garden at the U of G, feeling the breeze, listening to the water splashing and tumbling over the rocks in the reflecting pool and staring at a section of the Zen Garden.
Something had caught my eye, something was calling.

The photograph took a split second and that was something that used to be satisfying enough, just a split second, ‘click’ and I would be on my way.

Not this time ...
This time I reached into my bag for my sketch book and pencils. In the doing, somehow my senses became heightened ...
The smell of the wood as I sharpened my pencil,
The sound of the paper as I opened the book.
The anticipation of that first stroke, the graphite trail ...

The sketch took many minutes, tens of minutes actually and this was infinitely more satisfying but why?

I thought about this afterwards and I think it is in the doing, the time it takes, the thought, the concentration, the preparation.
I think the very act of taking more time to create something is satisfying and the longer it takes the more satisfying the endeavour.

Savouring the time spent is probably a good way of expressing it.

And I look forward to doing it again because ....

”Everyone must take time to sit and watch the leaves turn”. ~Elizabeth Lawrence

There is a spot in my closet where a long forgotten collection of paper, books, pens and brushes reside. It’s been about 20 years since I have listened to their whispers.

“We are here, come take us down from this shelf, rediscover the simple pleasures we can bring....”

Recently the call became more insistent, harder to ignore. It did not help that a friend was exploring the world of sketching to try to improve his vision and take his photography to the next level.

Discussions over tea were no longer only about photography they were about pens, papers, methods and techniques.

So the books came down off the shelf, the pencils sharpened, the first furtive strokes on a blank piece of paper were taken.

Slowly the muscles of my hand remembered and the lines became more sure.

This weekend as I packed my photo gear for an outing, I packed pencils and a sketchbook.

Would I use them?

Well time would tell...

Doug provided the spark as he bravely put down his camera and found a spot overlooking the falls at Everton and took out his sketchpad.

I knew where I wanted to sit long before I arrived at this place, down by the outflow where there is a nice cedar stretching for the sun as it grows out of what seems like bare rock.

The pencils were chosen, a brand new sketchbook opened and time stopped...

I don’t know how long I sat there, listening to the water, the birds, the breeze and drawing all of it.

Doug was no help he was in his own world, Patrick was the same albeit with a camera.

Eventually, with a cold foot (it was in the river) and a numb bum from sitting on a rock too long I rejoined my companions for tea and chatter.

What a day, what a place, what a journey back in time to relive the simple joy of doing nothing ....

“When my daughter was about seven years old, she asked me one day what I did at work. I told her I worked at the college - that my job was to teach people how to draw. She stared at me, incredulous, and said, "You mean they forget?" ~Howard Ikemoto

Yesterday I went walking the trails with my friend Patrick.
Fighting off the mosquitoes yet again and looking forward to the open spaces where they were less aggressive.
A new trail for Patrick but not for me. It is somewhat daunting introducing someone to a new trail, you never know how they will react to it.
I shouldn’t have worried, I mean who can resist old cedars, ferns, sunlight slanting through the woods and a river close by? With photographic opportunities galore and the quiet peace of the woods.

I need those times, to leave the world of man behind and re-enter the other world, the one so many have forgotten about.
Here I find myself and the work-a-day world slips into the background, cares forgotten.
I may only be away for an hour or two but it is enough to keep me going until Wednesday when I start to plan again, ‘where to next weekend’? is the eternal question...
Yes a short walk in the woods especially with friends is enough for this world weary traveler.

We all should take the time to enjoy the little things, to find pleasure in finding those little things ...

"To sit with a dog on a hillside on a glorious afternoon is to be back in Eden, where doing nothing was not boring - it was peace". ~Milan Kundera

Vacation time is over, time to g back to work.

Recently we bought a trailer and this last week we headed for the great outdoors, in deepest darkest Puslinch.

We fought many battles against the swarming hoards of mosquitoes, listened as the distant thunder drew ever closer, heralding the arrival of yet another downpour, torrential rain hammering on the roof of our little ‘home away from home’.
Several times I thought of our friends in a nearby campsite, they were in a tent...

Our week was interrupted by family matters and doctors visits but all-in-all we had a great relaxing time. I even pulled out my old sketch pad and pencils after 20 years of neglect.
We are home now and it seems like we fall back into the routine all so easily but we are different somehow, we had the time to catch up with each other, to reconnect, to do simple things like taking a walk with no destination in mind, yes sometimes in the rain.

I can’t wait to do it again.

"If you knew yourself for even one moment, if you could just glimpse your most beautiful face, maybe you wouldn't slumber so deeply in that house of clay. Why not move into your house of joy and shine into every crevice! For you are the secret Treasure-bearer, and always have been. Didn't you know?" ~Rumi

“God is in the details”
~ Mies van der Rohe

This phrase should have come from a photographer, not an architect. However Mies van der Rohe was a stickler for detail, concerned about everything. For example he designed the plaque, the wording and the font for the Toronto Dominion Centre in Toronto, talk about details!

What he meant was, whatever you choose to do it should be done thoroughly.

More common is the phrase “The Devil is in the details” meaning, ignore the details at your peril.

So how does this affect what we as photographers produce?
Well...
I am on a journey to free and open up my mind to the opportunities of an ever flowing, ever changing world.

To become a Flâneur.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Flaneur

The literal translation is a person who is a "stroller", "lounger", "saunterer", or "loafer" but which later became a description for an artist-poet.

We need to relax;
Forget about how much time we have available on any given day.
Forget about work
Forget about the weather
Forget about where you are going or what you hope you will find when you arrive.

If we go about our hobby / profession worrying about the details concentrating on one thing we miss the myriad of possibilities that float by, unseen and unheeded. We have blinkered ourselves.

So try this; don’t go out with a specific destination or subject in mind go out with the intention of letting the subject come to you.

Yesterday was one such day, a threatening sky and rain soaked trails caused us to change venues at the last minute, an easy decision when you are a “Flaneur”.

Not so easy if you have set your sights on a particular place, time or subject.

We chose the Arboretum over the open fields simply because the paths were dryer and there was shelter close by in case the weather turned against us nothing to do with photography. Once there we strolled the trails, it didn’t take long for a subject to find us.
Not the wind and rain swept vista’s but the tiny world of macro or close up photography. Rain on leaves, snails, insects, dragonflies, the way plants grow and climb.
There, in the details we had our subjects ...

They found us, we were simply receptive and open minded

So what did I learn from this?

As photographers we need to journey with an open mind but be aware that the details of what you choose to photograph can make or break the image be it a panoramic vista or a tendril of a plant.

So there you have it, one minute I say “forget about the details and wander” and in the next breath “don’t forget about the details”!

Well yes, let me explain;

As you wander with your open mind receptive to a subject, do not blinker your thoughts with details, let it all flow slowly by and be aware of possibilities.
However when the moment comes and your subject appears then the details become important ....

........ see? God may be in the details but the Devil is in the timing....

Out beyond ideas of rightdoing and wrongdoing, there is a field. I will meet you there. ~Rumi

Yesterday I went in search of 'Yellow Fields' the canola is in flower...
But words from the "Tao of Photography" by Phillippe Gross and S.I Shapiro kept rattling around in my head.

Several times I hit the brakes and went back to something I had seen. No not yellow fields, they could wait, this moment was fleeting and I had to investigate or lose it for ever...

I am beginning to understand just how much I stifle myself in pursuit of my craft by trying to set a goal. By 'visualising' what I want to photograph I am blinkered, focused only on one thing and in becoming focused I lose sight of all the rest.

Yes by all means set a destination for the day but don't allow that to be the focus of your day, allow yourself to be distracted and respond to those distractions. Yes I am learning to free my mind, beginning to understand....

" Great understanding is broad and unhurried;
little understanding is cramped and busy"
　　- Chaung-tzu

" My pictures are never pre-visualised or planned. I feel strongly that pictures must come from contact with things at the time and place of taking. At such times, I rely on intuitive, perceptual responses to guide me, using reason only after the final print is made to accept or reject the results of my work".
　　
　　- Wynne Bullock

Broken Dreams-Talbot Trail
Originally uploaded by Alan Norsworthy

Old, forgotten, abandoned houses and farms, even entire towns!

Over the years I have spent a lot of time wandering around these treasures and the same thoughts creep into my conscious mind:

What happened here?

Where did the people go?

Why?

To me, abandoned places are like landlocked Marie Celeste’s.

Some fully furnished, food in the cupboard .. never open a fridge or a freezer though..

Beds still with sheets, Books and reading glasses, dishes in the kitchen, newspapers and calendars from long ago everything is there except the people.

Is it one’s imagination that runs away or are there still occupants in some of these places? Well sometimes they are there not in human form but their essence, their spirit remains. Sometimes only in a barely tangible form, sometimes more so.

If walls could talk what stories would they tell?

Standing quietly sometimes there are whispers, but the whole story is never clear.

In the end all there is left is a sadness, an emptiness.

Lost hopes and dreams lie scattered amongst the detritus of lives hard lived but we cannot hear them, these stories are gone along with the occupants.

Even more sad is the knowing that the bulldozers await. They will come to tear out the remaining soul and erase forever the memory of these places so we can replace them with yet another mall ...

They civilize what's pretty
By puttin' up a city
Where nothin' that's
Pretty can grow....
They civilize left
They civilize right
Till nothing is left
Till nothing is right
~Alan Jay Lerner, "The First Thing You Know," Paint Your Wagon, 1969

These days when I walk the trails I find myself being drawn to the words of the North American elders.

They understood this planet we call home

They revered all things

They found peace and harmony out there.

When the first explorers arrived they found “a pristine untouched wilderness”. Little did they know it had been inhabited for thousands of years by the “Indian”.and as Bill Mason reflected..

"So the first white man arrives in North America and he looks out over the land and he calls it a pristine untouched wilderness. That's got to be the greatest compliment that anyone could pay to the native peoples that had lived here for thousands of years....and it's still possible to catch a glimpse of what that wilderness used to be..... and I think that the best way to do that is in a canoe, the most beautiful and functional craft ever created.", Bill Mason - from the film "Waterwalker"

So as I walk I think of these things. All things are connected, all things have a life, a spirit and we are part of that whole.

Humankind has not woven the web of life. We are but one thread within it. Whatever we do to the web, we do to ourselves. All things are bound together. All things connect.
~ Chief Seattle'

As I sit and watch the news, flooding, tornadoes, storms that seem to be getting bigger and stronger by the day, I wonder at what we have done. Mother Nature will only tolerate so much before she protects herself ....

This morning I went on journey, I walked one thousand Kilometers in the company of hundreds, traveled back in time a thousand years all without leaving the house.

Let me explain..

On the advice of a friend I 'googled' Peter Coffman and discovered not only photographs but a place.

A place where only the pilgrims and the seekers go. Its not a place per se because it encompasses many, many places and 2 countries its the long walk, the “Camino de Santiago”

http://www.petercoffman.com/?albumid=1

I found music there interwoven with the words and photographs.

The music was written, played and recorded along the trail by Oliver Schroer. He played in small churches and cathedrals alike wherever the spirit moved him. (pardon the pun)

Hauntingly beautiful music as only a lone fiddle can make.

As Peter says …

“ The violin sings, the stones sing back. The notes and the space embrace as if they have been waiting for this meeting all their lives. The man stops playing, but the notes keep going, unwilling to give this moment up.”

http://www.oliverschroer.com/about/camino_journal.html

They are the sounds of a journey, a pilgrimage yes but not necessarily a search for god but a search for oneself

On the morning of July 3rd, 2008, after a long battle with leukemia, Oliver Schroer passed away at Princess Margaret Hospital, Toronto.

As my friend said “why is it that the good people die young” I ask myself the same question....

Having had a bit of a hiatus as my wife recovers from her surgery I stole a bit of 'me time' this weekend and went for a walk with friends.
The weatherman was threatening rain and the mosquitoes were out in force but we went anyway.

A late change of venue saw us walking the trails along the Eramosa River here in Guelph. Stopping and starting, lagging behind, moving on, as something caught our attention but lots of banter and laughter along the way.
As Patrick commented "Seeing the sight in all its reality and then your image! Incredible fun of how we all interpret things differently, see things (how) others see things". When I took the photograph my comment to Patrick was "that one is destined for black and white" ...

This exposure to the scene and seeing the final result as others see makes every outing a learning experience and begs the thought 'where was I when he did/saw that'? It makes us look or should I say 'feel' more intently.

I have been reading a great deal recently of what I would call the Zen of photography, feeling instead of seeing, opening one's mind to the possibilities and waiting for the moment to arrive before pressing the shutter.
This way of seeing was first introduced to me in a workshop put on by Doug Wilson in Killarney/LaCloche last fall. Its amazing how those seeds he planted are growing into a new way of seeing, a new way of photographing the world...

"A great photograph is a full expression of what one feels about what is being photographed in the deepest sense, and is, thereby, a true expression of what one feels about life in its entirety. "
~Ansel Adams

This last week I have rode the roller coaster of emotional turmoil, my wife Cathy underwent Open Heart surgery to repair some damage.

Having to give up everything you hold dear into the hands of strangers is one of the most frightening things I have ever done.
“Blind trust” is an easy concept to grasp but not so easy to do but thankfully everything worked out.
Hiding my fears from Cathy so as not to make her own fears worse was almost as difficult.

I would like to take a moment to say ‘Thank You’ to Dr Ash and the whole team at St.Mary’s Hospital in Kitchener for your skills, patience and dedication to helping to make this week bearable.
Dr Ash’s skill is truly amazing yet he caries the responsibilities of his trade with such a casual aire, a true gentleman.

Taking another moment to tell our family and friends who have been by our sides unobtrusively this week,sending silent wishes and healing thoughts our way.
Know that all of you helped and know that I realise that we are truly blessed, and grateful.
In hours of weariness, sensations sweet,
Felt in the blood, and felt along the heart;
And passing even into my purer mind,
With tranquil restoration:—feelings, too,
Of unremembered pleasure: such, perhaps,
As have no slight or trivial influence
On that best portion of a good man's life,
His little, nameless, unremembered acts
Of kindness and of love....
~William Wordsworth, 1798

I have had a few conversations this week concerning patience. I don’t mean ‘road rage’ kind of patience I mean the patience to produce a better photograph.

It started with a comment about my recent trip to Algonquin. On the Saturday morningPatrick asked if we could stay a while in an area I had shown him.
We were there all day..

My comment was made to fellow photographer Gregg and he asked if I had read the article “The Art of Patience” by Jil Ashton-Leigh
You can find it here:

http://clicks.robertgenn.com/disappearing-blue.php

I got me thinking about how little time we devote to understanding and getting to know an area.
In this fast paced world where instant gratification has become the norm it is all to easy to fall into the trap. I think that we have such a small amount of time available to us to pursue our hobby that we try to make the most of it by capturing everything of interest. Instead of dedicating the time we have on producing the best image we can.

To do that we have to understand our subject and that takes patience.

Slow down, sit, think and observe. Watch the shadows and light play across the landscape before you. Try to understand what you are looking at and try to figure out what attracted you to the scene in the first place.

Last Fall I took a workshop with Doug Wilson, it is only now that I am really starting to understand what he was saying and it is the same thing, have the patience to let the land speak to you.

Only then pick up the camera.

Adopt the pace of nature: her secret is patience. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

I have struggled to put thoughts into words this weekend.

This morning I remember yesterday and I think of the pleasure of the company of a few like minded friends as we wandered in the woods seeking the wildflowers of spring.

To make the time to laugh and talk of simple things.

To kneel or lay in the soft humus and tilth that once were leaves and plants and breath in the fragrance and care not about dirty knee’s

I thank them for helping me unwind, I thank them for letting me be me and in return give them, and you, a poem by Lewis Carroll:


Lewis Carroll, 1832-1898.
SOLITUDE

I love the stillness of the wood:
I love the music of the rill:
I love to couch in pensive mood
Upon some silent hill.
Scarce heard, beneath yon arching trees,
The silver-crested ripples pass;
And, like a mimic brook, the breeze
Whispers among the grass.
Here from the world I win release,
Nor scorn of men, nor footstep rude,
Break in to mar the holy peace
Of this great solitude.
Here may the silent tears I weep
Lull the vexed spirit into rest,
As infants sob themselves to sleep
Upon a mother's breast.
But when the bitter hour is gone,
And the keen throbbing pangs are still,
Oh, sweetest then to couch alone
Upon some silent hill!
To live in joys that once have been,
To put the cold world out of sight,
And deck life's drear and barren scene
With hues of rainbow-light.
For what to man the gift of breath,
If sorrow be his lot below;
If all the day that ends in death
Be dark with clouds of woe?
Shall the poor transport of an hour
Repay long years of sore distress;
The fragrance of a lonely flower
Make glad the wilderness?
Ye golden hours of Life's young spring,
Of innocence, of love and truth!
Bright, beyond all imagining,
Thou fairy-dream of youth!
I'd give all wealth that years have piled,
The slow result of Life's decay,
To be once more a little child
For one bright summer-day

Most people who know me know that Spring is not my most favourite time of year.
Yet it does hold its attractions; Yesterday was one of those days when the air was warm, the breeze cool enough to be comfortable and the woods filled with the sounds of bird song and the scent of wildflowers.

Hard to resist ... luckily I had arranged to visit my friend Grant at his new home not far from here.
His new home lay a mere 50 yards away from endless trails and endless possibilities (and endless blackflies but they were a mere inconvenience and quickly ignored). because the woods were covered with carpets of trillium, pillows of bloodroot and trout lilies, the air filled with sweet scents that made you breath deep.

It was almost enough to make me forget that Spring is not my favourite time.

Don’t get me wrong, I do enjoy the seasons as they change. Each one brings it’s own special statement and spring is quite a magical time for as the earth thaws green sprouts work their way upwards towards the warming sun and burst into a riot of colours and fragrance. Time is short for them and they must fulfil their destiny quickly before the tree’s leaf out and cover the forest floor in shade.
A scant few weeks and it’s all over but while it’s here opportunities for photographs abound so you will find me with dirt covered knees as I crawl around with my face in the dirt and happy..

“And Spring arose on the garden fair,
Like the Spirit of Love felt everywhere;
And each flower and herb on Earth's dark breast
rose from the dreams of its wintry rest”.
~Percy Bysshe Shelley, "The Sensitive Plant"

I just returned from Algonquin, my Spring reunion with this incredible place.

Once more Mother Nature showed her true power.
We are puny in comparison:

Roads washed away leaving people stranded on the wrong end of Opeongo Road, streams and rivers raging, and winter still clinging in the quiet sheltered corners of the woods.

Patrick and I spent a day above the washed out beaver dam near Opeongo Rd and Hwy 60. A couple of years ago this was a series of lakes but no more. Returning to the area over recent years I have been able to witness just how quickly Mother Nature, if left to her own devices, repairs and replenishes a devastated area.
The grasses are back offering a thick luxurious covering to replace the cloying mud of recent years and Bulrushes are sprouting.

At the end of the day we we witnessed a beginning, a young beaver was making its way up the shallow meandering creek that fed this area before the beavers arrived the first time. I look forward to seeing their efforts at rebuilding.

On Sunday morning we visited Ragged Falls before heading home.

You could hear the roar of the water from the parking lot and that’s half a Km away. A sign of things to come...

In my wildest expectations I didn’t think it would be like this, Thousands of gallons per minute swept not only over the falls as the approach was flooded by about four of five feet of water and a second falls were born down the rocky ledges that was once a way down by foot.
The table (viewing section of natural rock was an island as water, deep and fast raced by, the noise was overwhelming and overpowering. What had been gentle cascades were now raging rapids with haystacks climbing about the now submerged rocks, noise everywhere

What a sight ...


Say, care-worn man,
Whom Duty chains within the city walls,
Amid the toiling crowd, how grateful plays
The fresh wind o'er thy sickly brow, when free
To tread the springy turf,— to hear the trees
Communing with the gales,—to catch the voice
Of waters, gushing from their rocky womb,
And singing as they wander...
Spring-hours will come again, and feelings rise
With dewy freshness o'er thy wither'd heart.
~Robert Montgomery, "Beautiful Influences," A Universal Prayer; Death; A Vision of Heaven; and A Vision of Hell, 1829

“I am a photographer”

Today we had our first meeting of the season at my local gallery. Beryl asked everyone to introduce themselves for the benefit of the new members, I, sitting to her left was first up;

“My name is Alan Norsworthy and I am a photographer” said I.

On down the table we went, each stating their name and what they do and what medium they work in.

There are four or five photographers represented by the gallery not one of them spoke of being a photographer, I found that profoundly interesting.

Was it because we photographers think of ourselves as second class citizens when in the company of 'true' artists?

Do we have an inferiority complex that stops us from standing up and admitting to the world that we are photographers we are and proud of it !

I know I don't. Maybe it's because I can, if I choose to, paint and draw, so really I do feel that I am amongst my peers but I still wonder why ....

So the next time you have to stand up and admit that you are a photographer remember the words of one of the masters of our craft

Photography records the gamut of feelings written on the human face, the beauty of the earth and skies that man has inherited, and the wealth and confusion man has created. It is a major force in explaining man to man. ~Edward Steichen

Spring is supposed to be here but no-one told winter ….

At the end of the week we had a tremendous winter storm, as it passed everything was coated in a thick sheet of ice.
Ever since I can remember I have loved storms, howling gales, lashing rain and crashing seas were all part of my childhood and when a storm brews on the horizon I am taken back to those times.

Nothing beats a good storm …..

"For the man sound in body and serene of mind there is no such thing as bad weather; every day has its beauty, and storms which whip the blood do but make it pulse more vigorously. ~George Gissing, "Winter," The Private Papers of Henry Ryecroft, 1903"

I have been 'blogging' for several years. If you are interested my blog is here ....

http://ajnphotography.blogspot.ca/

Thanks
Alan