Dhyāna Series: Photo 4

Discover the power of your own house and experience the joy of having beloved people over to cook for, play music, have conversation, overcome politeness: that is a valuable kind of peace.

Dhyāna Series: Photo 3

The next door neighbors here have great joy in their yard. Their backyard is a jungle of all kinds of plants from this grape vine to palm trees to roses to "beautiful, but invasive ground-cover" gardened by those that obviously love each and every one. They care about the fate of a small plant's life, health, and prosperity. That, to me, is worthy of note.

Dhyāna Series: Introduction

There is a great deal going on in the world, and close to home that I (alone) can do very little about as a (currently) unemployed grad student but that disturbs me greatly. This is a series of photos that I am beginning in a centering effort to do something, hopefully a little more toward peace and order in a world more and more of chaos and hate.

(do feel free to correct cultural/informational/any inaccuracies as I am a grasshopper in this) In Sanskrit, Dhyāna ध्यान, is a root word for varying forms of meditation, positive/negative and modified/traditional. A lovely article by Shinzen Young sums up Patanjali's three levels of concentration as:

Dhāranā: Attention wanders from the object and is brought back over and over again.

Dhyāna: Attention on the object is effortless and continuous like an unbroken stream of oil.

Samādhi: Attention is so complete that the yogi becomes the object!

Some of this hits a little too close for comfort in a number of ways. However, in one small way I offer as much as one photog can in this series of increasingly horrible events unfolding in our world. We may not be able to undo what we've done, and how many of us feel more and more agitated at the inability to effect change? Positive thinking is one thing. Prayer another. little as it may be or do universally, please accept a moment of peace and stillness as a reminder for ourselves. These are the first two photos I have designated in this series, and hopefully, the first of many:





gassho and love to you all.

"In the Frame"

I've thought about it for a while and find myself more and more looking at the teaching lessons of life through the act of framing. Intentionality and accident; awareness and ignorance; containment and randomness; art and impassivity--all encompassed in our frames. As director Scorsese says about cinema: "It is a matter of what's in the frame and what's out," but more and more I see that applicable in my life as a whole. There is so much to be learned and taught through what is found in the frame. I would like this topic to now be reflected in this blog (might as well as I seem to go on and on about it so much anyway). Anyhow, more later.

a few of my favorite quotes below:

"Art consists of limitation. The most beautiful part of every picture is the frame."
Gilbert K. Chesterton

"Each man should frame life so that at some future hour fact and his dreaming meet."
Victor Hugo

"Humor expands our limited picture frame and gets us to see more than just our problem."
Allen Klein

"Human life itself may be almost pure chaos, but the work of the artist is to take these handfuls of confusion and disparate things, things that seem to be irreconcilable, and put them together in a frame to give them some kind of shape and meaning."
Katherine Anne Porter

Collaborative Quilt; Dedication Quilt

Ordinarily, I am not much of a quilter. or, you might say, I suck at quilting, but very much enjoy sewing quilt tops. However, so many of the women in my family and lineage make very beautiful quilts; my grandmother, perhaps, most of all. For this reason, a number of years ago, I made a deal with her that if I finished the top, I could pass it on to her, and she would do the actual quilting. I thought of this as my "collaborative quilt" and thought it very exciting, even if I did underestimate the complexity of the pattern and the time it would take to complete such a goal. Well, an embarrassing number of years later, and my part of the deal remains unfinished, partly because each piece must be cut by hand and partly--more importantly--because my grandmother passed away a few years ago. Needless to say, it has been particularly difficult to work on since then, because I cannot help thinking of her when I do anything with it. The color design, sewing tips--nearly every bit of it, I learned from her and my mother, and all I have accomplished with it have been with both of them by me all the time.

Now, with time passed, as I pick it up again, I realize how grateful I am for such strong memories and associations with this project. Who wouldn't want to be reminded of such remarkable women? But I cannot deny or avoid how the concept has unalterably changed. Instead of a "collaborative quilt," I have decided to remake the deal into my "dedication quilt." (Lord help me for the actual quilting... but one thing at a time.) It is the price we pay for loving people that they leave us, and times are ended, but that's part of what makes what is left behind so much more precious. I hope that in every continued step, her presence becomes more apparent. To clarify, I do not wish to make this project embody her life or everything she meant to me; that is a hell of an attempt and would be giving what is most precious to something that passes away. The Thing remains forever just a thing, but it is my intent to infuse a bit of my love and memories in the making of this object, then take them with me, though leaving a perceptible remnant for the enjoyment of others. I am a proponent of this in nearly every art form I participate in, from photography to (musical) performance to sewing, and continue to be amazed at the effectiveness and intensity of the experience, viewer and creator alike, with this method.

Below, some pictures of my remarkable creative lineage that I hope to measure up to someday, if I'm lucky. I don't currently have a digitized copy of my grandmother at her quilting, but hope to soon:


**Grandmother and early family.


**Three generations; four crafties.


**My beloved Aunt passing on the tradition!

Storm Chasography

Well, successfully completed the first foray into storm photography. Hopefully more to come with my beloved shutterbuddy. I've loved storm chasing for quite a while, but never considered photographing until recently with such great travel companions. Last night's first adventure just happened to be the most perfect conditions and ended up with a number of addictive subjects caught on film between the two of us, and now I must admit: hook, line, sinker; I'm gone, especially after several lottery images like these:

Murphy descends to next level of hell

Taking the one hour available, after nodding off in three of the most interesting classes it has ever been my pleasure to attend, to catch up on a little sleep in the hope to function for subsequent class/study session/rehearsals. and the phone rings off the hook the entire time.


Low blow, Murphy, low blow...