NUTS ABOUT NATURE"
"As you walk and eat and travel, be where you are. Otherwise you will miss most of your life." - Buddha
Hubby Ray thinks I'm just a little strange. Most women will probably agree that most husbands feel that way about their wives, and vice versa. But we each put up with each other, or we hash out issue. One way or the other, couples accept, with love, the differences in each other's personality.
Ray thinks I'm a little off because I take photographs--lots of them--of flowers, birds, trees, ponds, grass--nature. He can't imagine what worth such "nothings" can possibly have. I try to educate him to what I see by explaining the images I see in, for example, a photo of a lovely flower.
I see beauty in those pictures. I "feel" stories in my photos. When I study the center of a flower, I might see the blazing, fast-paced center of our earlier years of life. As the color blends its way from center to edge, it becomes calmer-looking. I see my own self in the transformation: active childhood while rushing through school, a wrong first marriage with children and career. A creamy blend of my second marriage and all the good times.
Then the shadings change as I begin to mellow, slow the pace down as I found my peaceful place on the waters of retirement. Time is virtually my own. Volunteering. Traveling at the drop of a hat. The writing and photography finds a new road.
The very edge of the flower in the photo shows the plains of my today-life--soft and smooth, strong, happy, loving, alert and fulfilling God's plan--hopefully, all of these will hold true until the pedals begin to fade and slowly fall away.
Then others will find my stories, essays and poetry drawn from the images I see in all those boxes of photographs left for someone else to make sense of.
TIP: Look for stories everywhere--in old photo albums, in postcards, and in the faces you see in the view finder of your camera just before you snap another of those pictures your spouse might not see a story in.
PROMPT: Take a photograph out of your album or that box filled with them you have in the top of the closet or beneath the bed. Tell me the story you see there.
Hubby Ray thinks I'm just a little strange. Most women will probably agree that most husbands feel that way about their wives, and vice versa. But we each put up with each other, or we hash out issue. One way or the other, couples accept, with love, the differences in each other's personality.
Ray thinks I'm a little off because I take photographs--lots of them--of flowers, birds, trees, ponds, grass--nature. He can't imagine what worth such "nothings" can possibly have. I try to educate him to what I see by explaining the images I see in, for example, a photo of a lovely flower.
I see beauty in those pictures. I "feel" stories in my photos. When I study the center of a flower, I might see the blazing, fast-paced center of our earlier years of life. As the color blends its way from center to edge, it becomes calmer-looking. I see my own self in the transformation: active childhood while rushing through school, a wrong first marriage with children and career. A creamy blend of my second marriage and all the good times.
Then the shadings change as I begin to mellow, slow the pace down as I found my peaceful place on the waters of retirement. Time is virtually my own. Volunteering. Traveling at the drop of a hat. The writing and photography finds a new road.
The very edge of the flower in the photo shows the plains of my today-life--soft and smooth, strong, happy, loving, alert and fulfilling God's plan--hopefully, all of these will hold true until the pedals begin to fade and slowly fall away.
Then others will find my stories, essays and poetry drawn from the images I see in all those boxes of photographs left for someone else to make sense of.
TIP: Look for stories everywhere--in old photo albums, in postcards, and in the faces you see in the view finder of your camera just before you snap another of those pictures your spouse might not see a story in.
PROMPT: Take a photograph out of your album or that box filled with them you have in the top of the closet or beneath the bed. Tell me the story you see there.
posted by Barb | 9:47 PM
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