Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness. It took me years to understand that this too, was a gift.
~ Mary Oliver
As we draw near to the solstice, it seems that when I pick up my camera I come face-to-face with the lack of light. To feed my creative appetite I’ve been playing with edits instead.
i captured this image back in February. You may recall a similar shot.
It’s interesting how a slightly different edit, and the use of texture, can give a photograph a very different look.
It reminds me that how I see, and experience, the circumstances of my day is largely based on how I choose to see them.
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Oranges on the dehydrator.
An hour spent at the bookstore.
Peach Bellini foaming hand soap.
Starting a new book: Before We Were Yours By Lisa Wingate.
I agree, Linda. It’s all in how we look at life in general. My ninety-six year old mom lived a positive life every step of the way. Today, she says she has no regrets; she had a great life. I have tried to mimic her life; however, I have stubbed my toes quite often. But in stubbing my toes, I have tried to see the lesson learned and moved on. Thanks for the reminder to keep on keeping on.
What a precious gift you have in your mother and her outlook on life, Judy. I, too, have stubbed my toe more often than I’d like to admit. Isn’t it wonderful that we have opportunity to try again?
Lately I have been fascinated by the concepts of light and darkness, so I’ve read two books I’d recommend to you: Jacques Lusseyran’s And There was Light, the memoir of a blind man who led the French Resistance and Barbara Brown Taylor’s Learning to Walk in the Dark, which I read twice. Both I’d give 5 stars.
Maybe you are familiar with them. If not, they’d make contemplative reading in these early-dark winter days.
Marian, thanks so much for the book recommendations; they’re both new to me. I’ve just sent a sample of Larning to Walk in the Dark to my Kindle. Can’t wait to check it out.