Flowers Marking Time (Two Years in Italy)
April brings these lovely flowers to Parco di Monza. They carpet the forest under the trees, and never cease to make me smile. I watch the shoots as they start to push up through last year’s fallen leaves, growing tall and strong. Then the flower stems appear, the buds hinting at what is to come and suddenly, one day, they are all bursting open like fireworks, celebrating spring.
These flowers are a marker of time for me. Two years ago today, I arrived in Italy to start my assignment, and as I took possession of our apartment that first week these flowers were in bloom under the trees. I would drive by the park in those early days, see them and smile. I had the desire to walk under the trees and to capture the beauty of the flowers with my camera, but life was a blur of craziness at the time. Just figuring out where to find items in a grocery store was a major, energy-draining event.
One year ago, as the flowers started to bloom, I was able to capture their beauty. This time last year was an amazing time for me, having made it through that first year and settled comfortably into daily life, I was really moving on my creative journey. I was able to see the world with fresh eyes, to approach my photography with an unrepressed joy. I was discovering and uncovering the creative self, the artist, that had been lurking inside of me all along. The burst of creativity I felt in capturing the images of these flowers last year resulted in the first ever Exploring with a Camera post, From a Flower’s Point of View. You may recognize these flowers in the Exploring with a Camera button and page, they are the symbol of what “exploring” really means to me: coming to the world around us with wide open arms and hearts, and finding absolute joy in what is discovered there.
This week, I went into the park with my camera once again. I wanted to capture the beauty of these flowers, but I wondered how I could possibly top last year. The excitement and joy of that outing, and the love of those images, still stays with me a year later. But as always, my art reveals things about me I wasn’t expecting. With the passing of a year, I have changed and grown. I see differently. While I may have started my outing with the leftover vision of last year’s exploration, what I saw in the flowers this year was new and revealing.
This year, I noticed the shadows.
I discovered the beauty of the flowers, revealed in new way.
I saw the leaves as the canvas upon which light painted flowers.
I completely and utterly lost track of time, I was so engrossed in my exploration of light and shadow. I immersed myself in the rediscovery of these flowers, and along the way, had the sad realization that this is my last year of seeing them bloom. Two years in Italy are gone, a little over two months left. I shed a tear or two, there amongst the flowers, holding my camera.
How can I not be wistful, as I contemplate leaving a place that’s given me so much? I know it’s not Italy itself that has changed me, it has been my response and willingness to take every experience that comes my way, living life to the fullest and seeking growth. As I photographed the shadows of these flowers I realized: Italy is the canvas upon which life has painted me. It is here I learned to look closer, and I discovered myself in the light and shadow.
Creating Art with your Whole Heart
Yesterday I read a wonderful blog post from Karen Walrond, author of The Beauty of Different. In it, she talks about heartbreak, and a philosophy that comes from another author, BrenĂ© Brown. BrenĂ©, she says, tells her she can’t be selectively numb. We have to feel both the good and the bad. We need to lead wholehearted lives.
Wholehearted.
Whole hearted.
Whole heart.
I’ve written before about following my heart. The only way I know how to truly create, is from my heart. My best work, whether it’s writing or photography, starts in the heart. It’s a feeling I’ve learned to recognize and follow. Like this morning, with this post. It came from that place of heart.
I didn’t always recognize this feeling or know how to follow it. That has come over time, as I’ve unmuffled the feelings of my heart along my creative journey. You see, in order to avoid facing any pain or darkness in my life, I had numbed myself to the good as well as the bad. It makes so much sense looking back now, that when I was willing to accept both the light and the dark in me, I was also finding and owning my voice as an artist.
We can’t have wholeness without dimension. In art, that means light and shadows on a surface, which create a three dimensional form out of two dimensional shapes. In our lives, that means light and shadows in our soul, which create the depth and dimensions of a person. For our best work, we have to come to our art with a whole heart. In order to do that, we have to come at our lives with a whole heart first. We have to unmuffle the tiny voice inside ourselves, so that we can hear both the good and the bad messages. We have to be willing to accept what we hear, no matter how uncomfortable it may be, so that we can learn from it and bring it to our art.
As I think through this, I’m realizing that living with a whole heart is an important key to claiming your artist. When you claim yourself an artist, you put yourself out in a public way, saying, “Here I am world, look what I create!” You open yourself up to the possibility of criticism or rejection. You open yourself to the bad stuff, the stuff you might want to avoid. In this way, not claiming your artist is a form of self-protection. A way to shield your heart from any pain. But in doing so, your heart is muffled and numbed. You won’t be able to hear the good messages either. Your art and your ability to create your best work will be affected.
Today, take a quick look at the status of your heart. Are you living with a whole heart? Do you allow the dimension that comes from light and shadow? Are you protecting yourself from potential hurt and pain and in the process numbing yourself to your heart’s good messages? If you’re having trouble claiming your artist, maybe this is a good place to start. It’s certainly been an important point for me to ponder, to reaffirm the desire and acceptance of living with a whole heart, because I want to hear that little voice inside that leads me to create from my heart.
Bits and Pieces
I’m over at Mortal Muses today musing on repeating patterns, a perfect opportunity to share a couple of images of the Byzantine mosaics from Ravenna. I think my favorite mosaics are the patterns that decorate the borders and arches, like this one above. I love how these patterns continue infinitely, and how the artist used light and dark colors to give volume to an otherwise flat shape. All this with pieces of glass!
Many of the artistic principles that make a beautiful mosaic are no different than for painting or photography. It’s the execution of the mosaic, however, with its little bits and pieces combined into a larger and cohesive whole that makes it so amazing. All works of art are built up from the combination of bits and pieces, but the mosaic makes this obvious in a way that other art forms don’t. Maybe that’s what makes them special, what makes me look closer to see the details created centuries ago, with tiny bits of glass. I hope you enjoy today’s images, both here and over at Mortal Muses.
PS – Did you miss my announcement yesterday? If so, head on over here and check out what you missed!
Florence Market, and an Announcement!
Our weekend in Florence was enjoyable, and confirmed once again that the back alley wanderings are the most fruitful for my photography. This lovely scene, another addition to my market/wheels series, was found taking a side street as we wandered.
This is our second visit to Florence, and I found I had gotten all of the Duomo-and-Ponte-Vecchio pictures out of my system the first trip. We visited a couple of lesser known museums (Bargello, for some fantastic sculpture, and the Museum of the History of Science, which houses some of Galilleo’s original instruments) and then wandered what we could find of back streets. Oh, and shopped for Florentine paper! There may be another giveaway, coming soon to a blog near you.
But today… as promised on Friday, I have an announcement…
Today I am launching a newsletter for my blog! I’m so excited to have another way to chat with you, through an email newsletter that I will be sending once or twice a month. It will include articles on art, creativity, photography and interesting places, notifications and special offers on my classes, and will provide you a handy reference to what is happening on my blog in case you miss a post or two. Won’t that be nice?
As a thank you for signing up, I’ve created this little book on basic composition that I call a “Camera Companion” that you can fold up and put in your camera bag. Whenever you are feeling stuck you can pull this out and get a few ideas to help you, in the moment. The download and instructions to make the Camera Companion will come via email as soon as you sign up.
There was a lot of prep work to get all of this ready to launch today, and I have to thank my son for his help in filming a video. He was so funny, he had to go find these headphones, just so he would “look” the part of the director. He took his job seriously though, directing me quite well.
Aren’t you curious now, to see the video we made together? You’ll have to come sign up for the newsletter to see it! Just enter your information in the box on the left sidebar, as shown below. You’ll need to confirm your subscription via a link that will arrive in your email, and then you’ll get your first message from me in your inbox. I can’t wait to share all of this with you!
Seeing Double
“Seeing Double,” capturing a subject in reflection, was the prompt for the last week in Picture Inspiration. I love capturing reflections in my images, whether in water, glass or metal. I found this image in Milan during our hunt for the tricolore in March. Piazza del Duomo is always a busy place, but on a holiday, it’s incredibly crowded. The puddle gave a fantastic reflection of the Duomo, but only when the space behind it was clear of people. I spent quite a bit of time waiting and watching how the crowd moved to capture this image, a great example of Waiting to Click. Even then, I had to do some creative editing (tilt, black and white) to eliminate some distracting elements outside of my control.
The other “Seeing Double” images I shared this week are of cars. This car in the streets of Ravenna was interesting on its own, but the reflection gives it a sense of place that just sings “Italy.” It reminds me of another reflection-in-car image I took, very early in our time in Italy. For me, that sense of place makes all the difference, since cars aren’t normally one of my favorite subjects.
Have a great weekend! We are off to Florence this weekend, riding the Freccia Rossa (“Red Wind” – the high speed train between Milan and Rome) for one last visit. Be sure to come by on Monday – I have something new and exciting to share with you!
















