not a pretty picture. not a good. not a bad. picture. but an argument.

Sunday, May 29, 2011

spring, fresh starts


are we beginning now?
oh, we're beginning.

1,2,3,4...

my son sat beside me while i worked on this photograph. 
somehow that just makes sense.
he's stuttering again lately.
stuttered when he was two and went through
a mind shift, a turbulent time of learning.
he's stuttering again. 
i wait patiently.  he's sensitive to change.
the world is moving so quickly by him.
i wait for him to catch up.

"h-hhhow did you get this picture like this?" he asks me.
"i shot through glass.  see this?  it's a streak of light."
"you really know what you're doing mom, don't you?"
"son, i haven't the foggiest.  i just keep trying."

 

8 comments:

  1. "i just keep trying."
    Yeah.
    That's what we're all doing.

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  2. "trying" -- that's your handle. With so much white space to clear clean of ourselves. The pic looks like a Chinese landscape painting. Is there a character, a hexagram, for stuttering in spring's perfection? Does it change phrased the other way around? - Brendan

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  3. i feel fortunate to be brought to these places, these moments.

    you don't know what you're doing; only guessing. how keen your instincts are.

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  4. "Open up, everything's waiting for you."
    Great picture! Love it! Love the story.
    xxx

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  5. oh, i thought you layered a texture over it. beautiful.

    my girl stutters very mildly, when it seems she's going through a cognitive spurt/shift of sorts.

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  6. erin,
    I am amazed with your great photos!
    belissimo blog!
    greetings from São Paulo,
    denise

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  7. (blogger's not playing nice. it won't let me respond. screw you blogger:)

    aimee, it was sweet...except for the black flies! 'tis the season. they cover you in moments when you're in the bush. where the heck are they waiting?

    rosaria, i guess so. every day. some days two steps back. this weekend that way. i'm almost relieved for Monday. that's not good.

    brendan, my son thought it looked like a painting too. wondered how on earth i took it. and then we went up the back roads today and i pointed out the new leaves through the windshield and i said, see, it's all there just waiting to be noticed - so new every spring. it's amazing to me just how many springs, how many starts, there are in life. it's as though time is always new. i hope opportunities are so.

    andreas, it's just what it is like around here. it's everywhere to be seen. but it surprises me - my brother in law just told me about a favorite stand of trees of robert's and mine, that his son was a part of planting it 30 years ago. he said he could walk for hours in there and see trees, ya, but nothing else. i don't know how you can't see the everything else. makes me wonder how many worlds separate us in our day to day lives, just how different our perceptions are.

    xo
    erin

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"Words at the limit of hearing, attributable to no one, received in the conch of the ear like dew by a leaf." (philippe jaccottet) or even a quiet presence is appreciated))