[sterling, 23 karat gold & sleeping beauty turquoise][sterling & pearl]
The Life and Times of the Plume
I Love Your Soul
[Saint Wapiti Rings and Necklace :: sterling silver and 14 karat gold :: Patron Saint of the high country. May the mountain always rise up to meet you.]
Hey honey bunnies. I’m trying my best to manifest a shop update for you tomorrow, despite a handful of small but pesky natural disasters that happened in home and life here over the past two days! I am aiming for an update time of noon, mountain time, and will let you know if that changes at all between now and then.
Also, entering the shop today will be the STAY CONNECTED POSTCARD PACK — some of you have had the patience of holy people and have been asking for a while for a new little pack of images. Here they are. It’s a fairly limited run with four cards in each pack, as well as one extra card (which has been my tradition for years now) of my choosing as a little surprise for you.
A little about the image selection for this pack of postcards:
Oh, it’s always so hard to choose.
The photos featured in this postcard pack aren’t anything different than the photos I usually take except they were shot with the intention of showing effortless connection to the elements. These are self-portraits, usually partial body crops, but always, the elements are present: earth, fire, wind and water. Or off shoots of the elements are present, for example, objects that are carried on the wind, stone turned to dust, flowers that eat the sun…etc. What causes these self-portraits to be specifically elemental in nature, for me as the photographer, is that when I decided to take these photographs, I felt seamlessly interwoven with the mountain, land, wind, sun, lake or river I found myself beside or on or in. I felt connected enough, to Creation, that the hum of my own molecules was in tune with the singing of the stones, the chanting of the waters, the alleluias of the sunbeams and the arias of the wind. I was one with it all. Connected. I made a tangible memory of the moment with my camera. I try to do this all the time, but there are moments when I feel it more deeply — these photographs were taken in those moments.
I realized something about myself last summer, I even shared it with a friend or two by letter once I realized the significance of the act, I need those moments wherein I lay myself down on the ground beneath the trees or drape my skinny bones over the river cobble and dip my finger tips in the whitewater…I need to press as much of my surface area up against the dirt of the world, feel the sky press down on me, the sun warm me through and the river lick at my hands. It undoes what needs undoing in me, it rebuilds what needs rebuilding in me, I think I hear the Spirit of God moving over me as it moved over the dark waters in the very beginning. I can feel the good and bad in me separate like oil and water, and then I think I feel the bad being stripped away leaving me shining and new and ready to begin again. It is an act that is redemptive by nature, for me.
I never set out to lay around in the dirt under trees or alongside a river in an intentional way, it’s always felt like an intuitive act — I do it when I feel moved to do it. This is generally my approach to life and work — I do things as I am led to do them. I make things as I am led to make them. I rarely try to control the process, it makes for a lot of mess and some seriously scattered work at times but by now, I know enough about who I am to simply go with it. A lot of beauty eventually stems out of the chaos and those are some of the greatest moments of my creative life. When I take the time to lay on my back, walk to the very top, collect the tiny things and really feel it all I don’t do it because I think it’s going to take a good photograph that might get me some attention, but because it’s a way for me to be consumed by an environment, to close my mind off to needless chatter and purely focus on my senses, to ask what changes I need to make in my heart in order to belong even more to the holy places, to listen and to hear, to be taken in by it all, made one with it all, cell by cell, matched in newness and decay with the world, one more piece of creation under the mighty wing of God, joyfully singing His praise, lifting my voice to blend in infinite harmony with a beautiful world. The stars sing soprano; they pour the high notes forth like raw silver.
I’ve written about it before. And I’ll write about it again.
This is the place these images stem from, I just wanted you to know. Now if you see me in such a photograph, you know it is no dramatic contrivance made immortal by my camera lens and shutter, but a genuine, private moment — remembered by my camera and shared in trust.
And so, I stay connected.
I stay connected.
M and I had just finished a dinner of tacos, salad and a pair of crazy delicious cocktails and were walking around Taos in the night when it began to storm. I stopped where I was, whipped out my camera and began to try catch the eerie light of the clouds flickering with lightning. Between shots I heard myself oohing and aching and finally I said to M, “Let’s chase it!“
We hopped in the car, drove towards the storm and wound up somewhere outside of Taos. I set up my tripod and camera and got to work figuring out my focal point, shutter speed, aperture… The wind came up. It began to rain. And still we stayed out there trying to set up a photograph.
I usually try not to post images that are too similar, I try to be a good editor that way, but I decided to put up a smattering of similar shots in this post so you can see how crazy different the light was depending on where my shutter was able to catch a lightning strike — the luminance is so different in each image here, as well as the colors! That incredible violet hue in some of these shots is not something I pulled out during editing processes! Unreal, right?
I love these photos and this was probably my favorite photographic pursuit on this entire trip. At some point, the rain turned to hail and I had to fold everything up quick and run for the car. We sat there in the dark, listening to the ice pummel the rag top of the convertible, wondering if we would survive or be tornado-ed off to another dimension. It was great; an evening that won’t be forgotten.
With that said, my New Mexico posts are officially finished! Thanks for coming along for the ride!
X
As a general rule, cities cause me discomfort. I prefer the country, open horizon lines, clean air and antelope herds. I have, in days past, experienced feelings of culture shock while traveling into and out of cities from rather rural homes. Driving into Anchorage, Alaska for provisions from Copper Center used to terrify me. Buzzing over to Los Angeles from the tiny river town of Parker, Arizona made my head hurt. Even now, going to Boise or Salt Lake City is enough to exhaust me on such a deep level that I usually need a day of recovery once I return home.
Cities tend to leave me feeling tired, hyper-stimulated and bewildered. Please believe me when I say I am not anti-city. I think cities can be wonderful places and have explored many with great pleasure, however, I find they sap my strength, tax my mind and weary my senses. With that said, cities are not usually my focus when I travel. Usually my trips involve being outside, hugging trees, catching fish, rowing my raft and riding horses. So, when I travel with M, it’s refreshing to be with someone who is tremendously comfortable in urban places, someone who can safely expose me to experiences I rarely choose to expose myself to. Does that make sense?
She took care of a lot of the driving on this trip, especially when we were in cities, which really helped me to stay sane. Filtering large loads of information at high speeds is not one of my mental talents. If my eyes see something lovely, I focus on it. I refrain from multi-tasking in life and my senses and mind seem to be wired in a similar manner. I take in delicious pieces of the world around me and really focus on every single bite as it passes through my system in full chroma, full texture, full scent, full feel…full fullness. It’s how I operate. Having M by my side keeps me within my filtration comfort zone, she’s sort of my seeing eye dog in big cities. She is a solid thing I can trust to lead me on when I fall victim to my senses or am struggling with complete overload. I realize this makes me sound fragile, and I suppose I am, in some ways.
What to say about Santa Fe — it’s a beautiful old town. There is so much art! There is so much jewelry (I grew desensitized to the beauty of it, actually…)! There is so much strolling to do, drinks to sip, tacos to munch, turquoise to buy. It’s a great city.
Taos is more my style. It’s small, charming, quiet(er) and set against a lovely high desert backdrop of rolling mountains and blue sky. I’d like to do a writing workshop there sometime and am keeping an eye out for opportunities.
The last couple of days of our trip found us storm chasing (more on that in a moment), gallery hopping in Madrid, bracing against gale force winds in a high and winsome desert on sandstone cliffs, beneath gaping arches, in piney forests, under stormy clouds, in the grips of burning sunsets and so on and so forth until the highway spilled us back down into Arizona where the skies are impossibly blue and I caught my flight home to Idaho. Frankly, it was the best time I ever had in a white Miata.
Love you M. Let’s do it all over again, sometime soon.
Today, someone asked me if New Mexico is beautiful. Of course it is beautiful but I’m not the person to ask because, really, when it comes down to it, I find everywhere to be beautiful. Here’s what I have to specifically say about New Mexico. I live in the high desert of Idaho so the feel of the landscape in New Mexico didn’t thrill my senses — which is to say the terrain there did not move me too far out of the geographical parameters of my ordinary life. That said, there is magic in New Mexico and I believe it stems from the fact that the state has really held on to a deeply reverberating Mexican/American Indian vibe that splatters the world there with color, texture and SPIRIT! New Mexico has spirit. Bombastic spirit. I felt it the moment I saw my first strand of chile peppers hanging from a doorway on an adobe. Wowee! Everything feels a little older, a little more sunbaked, a little more crusty around the edges. The place has patina and I adore patina. Truly. The beauty of New Mexico is in the sun burned, wind kissed, quirky details.
I realize that I haven’t told you what the heck I was doing down in New Mexico in the middle of the summer! Allow me to share the background of this trip. I travel, from time to time, with one of my best friends who is from Arizona. In January we began to talk, in earnest, about taking another trip together this year (we’ve done trips together in the past including Northern Ireland, Czech Republic, Hungary, and the Idaho Sawtooths by ’73 Volkswagan Bus). We pondered on New Orleans, San Francisco and then decided we needed to go somewhere neither of us had ever experienced and our plans for New Mexico began to grow themselves into fruition. May rolled around and I found I had a plane ticket to Phoenix and M had booked time off. The rest is history.
M is a talented photographer which just makes traveling together even better. We walk around with our enormous cameras, take thousands of pictures, share our shooting secrets with each other, and laugh a lot. I’m always amazed at how different our photography styles are. Even if we are shooting the same landscape or retro neon sign, things turn out so differently. We both tend to simply do exactly what we do. I have always appreciated her eye for what it is, but also love it when I get to compare my perspective directly to hers. If you’d like to take a peek at her work from our New Mexico adventure, you can find her blog posts here.
Have you ever traveled with a best girlfriend?
It’s the best.
Also, we hiked 800ft underground into the Carlsbad Caverns, into that incredible, terrifying, beautiful, nightmarish place. I was practically hypothermic when we came back up to the surface, so clammy and drippy and cold was it down there. Just ask M. I had “white finger” on my right hand — which is what I call it when my fingers turn white and generally quit functioning, not a big deal, it happens sporadically; I get deeply cold quite easily. Robert dreads it.
Back to the caves. I kept expecting a gollum to pop up out of the pools of water beneath the various speleothems we encountered (that’s a fancy word for rock formations found in caverns and caves…good one, huh?). It was quite the experience, not like anything I have ever seen before on the skin of our beautiful, wild Earth. I would highly recommend a visit if you are in the neighborhood. It’s a completely spectacular experience and while there are lights placed around the caves to slightly illuminate the hiking path as well as the ENORMOUS columns, stalagmite and stalactites, I cannot fathom that once upon a time, crews of men and women went under the earth with only headlamps and ropes to explore this phenomenal, dark territory. I just can’t believe it.
My photographs don’t do the caves justice. They are a million times more gorgeous and frightening than I could capture in pictures. The scale, too, is lost in these shots. I really cannot explain to you the monumental size of these rock formations. There were delicate formations, as well, but the big ones were el mondo.
To be continued…
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