Out of the shadows

We feel most alive in the presence of the Beautiful for it meets the needs of our soul.

John O Donohue

It wasn't a great summer; grey skies, too much rain, cold seas. But for a couple of days the golden sun lit up our lives and we all came out of the shadows.

Photographers call it the "golden hour".  It's that time of the day, early or late, when light slides in at an angle casting lanky silhouettes and tinting the world with warmth. When you study light and peer endlessly through a lens, you are drawn to this like a moth to a flame.

But the best part? In the gloaming, back doors, front doors, windows and hearts are opened to the light. Glasses of wine and cups of coffee are brought down to the shore. Youngsters are chatting, perched on the low walls, barbecues are set and smoking. Our small community is united by staring into the light show of an evening sky.

This golden life force, our sun, makes us smile, feeds our souls and entices us out of the shadows. And this is even more true for photographers!

Something precious to belong to; home.

Today it is the stillest, sunniest spring morning. 

To the east the hill of gorse is in full flower and the exotic aroma of sweet coconut brushes against my jacket. Birdsong fills the fields as nest making and nest guarding goes on. In the distant sky the Coastguard helicopter is rumbling it's way out over the Copper Coast. 

The golden light smothers everything in streams.  Later the wind will probably pick up from the southern Atlantic, a front might approach from the Comeragh Mountains to the west or from the plains to the north.

For now Waterford on a still spring day, in the golden light of this spring flowering, is something precious to belong to. 

And it's home.

Check out a new gallery called Up close in the Hedgrows here

Friendship

There was a smudge of navy blue painted onto a peachy sky. Nothing had changed but the eery manifestation of fading light, on a February evening. 

A unique set of moments. And WE were there. 

The camera captured the scene. But the sound of the moorhens cooing, and of our footsteps through the darkening meadow remain only as memories captured in our hearts, forever. 

Studying light

I'm going to write more about contemplative photography and unravelling what it means. How it can enrich your life and your creative practice, no matter what that is. How it can help to infuse more soul into your work. How it can help to develop your visual sensibilities and enhance the quality of what you do.

Its just like any other contemplative practice, a very personal experience. But the inklings I am following for 2015 suggest that my own developing practice might be something worth sharing. I'd love to know if there are questions you would ask about either improving your photography or about a contemplative approach to photography? Just leave a comment with your thoughts or questions and it will help me greatly in knowing where to begin with this.....or even if to begin!

Light is everything, and I once spent a full year studying nothing else. It is a wonderful starting point for observation; for seeing everything with new eyes. These rare icy mornings can be overcast and misty. But sometimes there is a delicious combination of ice and sunlight which creates little rainbow coloured bubbles. Known in photography as bokeh, it's from a Japanese word meaning blur or haze.

Today it's like the morning sun just spread handfuls of silvery bokeh glitter on everything.....

These photos were taken at ground level with a fully open aperture and very particular conditions that don't happen around here too often. That moment when the ice softens and the moisture picks up the light just enough to shine.

If you are interested in beginning a photography practice then start by studying light. Where the sun rises and sets. How subjects alter at different times of the day. The way the seasons influence the shadow falls on the landscape. How light falling softly on a child's face creates a special radiance.

Meanwhile in the spirit of contemplative photography look out for what is going on around you and above all else open your heart to it......

"Stop whining and get back to work!" ~Pilgrimage ~July

That blue grey Irish light of summer

It's been raining

Wildflowers after the rain really sparkle

Glistening foxglove fingers

He introduces himself to a field of cattle

The bull pokes his nose into the air

Red ants

The Irish light is blue grey and it's been raining. I'm snapping raindrops. He stops to introduce himself to a herd of frisky cattle. They get like that in the gloaming. Leppin around and hooshing themselves up on top of each other.

The bull is at the back, a foot or two taller than the others and he pokes his moist black nose in the air, sniffing us out. Still he stands there talking to them and peering into their midst.

Suddenly he jumps out of the ditch and scampers to rid himself of the red ants crawling up his legs. I capture him, my adult son ahead on the path while the dusky sky behind me darkens. The low light and low key stroll is a welcome break from the earlier procrastination and questions.

Are we in a period of "lowest common denominator" art? This has been the topic of the day. It's a challenge to argue against it. The on line art world is over saturated and the offline art world is a daily struggle to survive. 

I agree. I disagree. I argue. I listen. I don't know.

Later I try to find something relevant and soothing about leading an artist's life. More for myself than for anyone else. I find a quote from Werner Herzog where he responds to a desperate and disillusioned young film maker.   

"Quit your complaining. It’s not the world’s fault that you wanted to be an artist. It’s not the world’s job to enjoy the films you make, and it’s certainly not the world’s obligation to pay for your dreams. Nobody wants to hear it. Steal a camera if you have to, but stop whining and get back to work.”

I'm not sure how the jobbing artists upstairs have received this advice, but Herzog works for me every time and I immediately get the finger out and return to work......





More Irish wildflowers here in the Gallery

Seeking light in Rome #Pilgrimage~ April

I skip the Pope's house this time. I am always cautious not to disrespect another's idea of beauty or religion, all I know is that I would never find light there. In the midst of droves of pilgrims making their way to the Basillica of St. Peter's I am as usual walking in the opposite direction, towards the pagan past.

I diverged from Catholicism when my father sent me to discuss my Easter Duty with the parish priest. Although they exerted great pressure I wouldn't come up with any interesting sins and refuted the idea of a 16 year old girl being forced to confess for some arbitrary feast day. I explained to the priest that people were basically good and anyway I had done nothing wrong...... 

Some how through steadfast argument I got away with it and never looked back. Instead I moved over to mystery as the only possible conclusion about life, death and who made the world. I fell in love with mother earth, constellations of stars, and the beauty of it all. I suppose I'm a kind of aesthetic/humanist if a label is ever needed.

That being said, I still harbour an appreciation of certain rituals and I especially love to indulge in candle lighting. These spaces where ordinary people are drawn to kneel are so full of hope in something magical and grander than ourselves. The congregation's collective adoration is soothing and healing. Throw in a bit of singing, some ethereal shafts of sunlight and I find myself connecting with something deep and unfathomable...... 

And as I say my own prayer wishing for strength and peace, my mantra for this pilgrimage is like a constant flickering flame ......seek light, embrace shade and live in glorious colour......



See the Pilgrimage Gallery here and the Rome Gallery here

Pastel diary

Pink, blue, lavender and softest grey, the pastel diary of early spring days. The promise of a new palette. Until then soak in the light, the heart, the hope. Warmth streaming through the window after our wintery lunch. 

Pull back the curtains, throw open the door and listen to the whisper of the world turning.

Still drawn to the evening sky

Having posted photographs on line for almost 3 years I've learned a thing or two about what people enjoy and at the top of that list would be sunrise and sunset snaps.  In our house, and I suspect all over the planet, a golden sunset is still a magical yet unfathomable sight. 

Because my windows catch the south western sky with a clear view across open country, I photograph them regularly.  Still drawn to the window every time.....

It can be the reflections in the lake, the dramatic cloud formations or the deepest colours that catch the lens. Critics say that these are the ultimate in chocolate boxy cliches but there's no denying they are always the peoples' choice........

My good friend Susan who blogs on Vibrant Ireland obviously faces east!! She's a curator of sunrise photos from Ireland on Twitter and Instagram. Just add the tag #irelandsunrise to participate or check out the weekly highlights here.

Photography develops keen observation skills and capturing the goings on in the sky puts our tiny planet into perspective.....we may never fully understand the goings on up there but we are still captivated by each stunning performance.......



There are even more here in the Winter Sunset album

Living in muted colour

The Rosebay Willowherb are at the end of this cycle. At their height they are pinker and deeper than a girly pink. In early autumn they go to seed in a fluffy fashion and by December they are gnarled fists of skeletal remains clinging to their stalks.

In clumps along the ditches, they mark time with me, and as I walk I begin counting back months and reliving my own year.

I started out 2013 seeking light. Throughout the year I embraced shade. In spite of everything I am living in colour! Albeit more muted.

A few photographic memories from 2013......

Relentlessly snowy Berlin .....in March

All bets are off the arrival of Spring......in April

A few postcards from Sydney.......in May

Foxgloves on the lane.....in June

Friendship at the edge of time; Kerry.....in August

One of those nights.......in September

Lost in leafy light

Do you share a memory of lying under trees, watching the light flicker through the leaves? Did you throw yourself onto the grass and stare into the sky? Did you roll in leaves and kick them down the path on the way home from school, or half close your eyes to see faeries dancing between the branches and the sunlight?

Although Ireland should be covered in trees, outside urban areas the forests tend to be the monotonous evergreen pines planted all over Northern Europe. Sadly there is a lack of autumn glory in this part of the world, here autumn is over and winter has arrived.

But today under this rare group of copper beeches I revisited dreamy schoolgirl moments. Perhaps the world has enough photos of autumn leaves? What the hell, here are even more!

November rhythms and roses

As November takes hold, maybe winter begins?   The community on the hill and here on the lane are winding down, burrowing in behind closed doors.

Close to the window there are white roses budding and flowering, in their own rhythm. Sure they don't seem to know if it's day or night!

And in the workshop there are sounds of tapping and clacking as words pour out onto the screen. Longing to find a heartbeat, imagined projects swish around in the two hemispheres. 

Light a candle, put the kettle on and get to work.