On seeing and remembering

Winter has begun to show its face here. Most of the leaves that are going to fall to the ground have done so. It's time to get out the blower and the rakes. What remains of the canopy in the woods, other than the ubiquitous and perennial North Carolina pine, are tree skeletons – a favorite photographic subject of mine.

         Best Farm

I’m always surprised when I "discover" that I have a theme or subject that I’ve photographed for years – without being aware of it. How could a subject that I’ve photographed countless times, under multiple conditions, and for years at a time, go unnoticed as a subject of note? The human psyche is a marvel!

Discovery comes as a mixed blessing. On the one hand, it’s always insightful to discover and explore patterns in one’s life. What is it about trees set against an open sky or field that attracts my attention? Draws camera to eye? Why does it call out to me in that way?  And if the eye is the window to the soul as the ancients believed, what then of the camera's aperture? And of the one who opens and closes it?

On the other hand, discovery brings conscious awareness with it. And conscious awareness affects the act of exploration. It affects how we see. I think of those zen books on seeing here.

               Lake Chautauqua

It’s harder to let go of preconceptions and simply see – see the essence of a place or thing -- when you’re simultaneously remembering, doing a comparative search not only of what stands before you but of what you’ve done before.  Remembering can certainly help clarify, can help tweak your aim for the better, but it can also stultify vision.

What once drew your attention spontaneously and openly has become a thing with a name. A thing you’ve seen before. And that creates a veil, or worse, a wall, that makes seeing the essence of a place or thing that much more challenging.

                Along Antietam Creek