The Decisive Moment

Most of my time these days is spent in the studio, but I am trying to carve out some time for reading as well, as that often feeds the work. I'm currently immersed in H is for Hawk by Helen Macdonald. The book is beautifully written and spans a range of genres--part memoir and part nature writing, as well as an exploration of the ways that life and death play out in our lives. I love books like this, that weave a kind of tapestry of ideas. One passage I read the other day about photography and capturing the moment has captivated my thoughts.   Henri Cartier-Bresson, a world renowned photographer talked about the "decisive moment." Macdonald quotes him here: 

"Your eye must see a composition or an expression that life offers you, and you must know with intuition when to click the camera....The moment! Once you miss it, it is gone for ever."

I appreciate this idea, especially as it relates to making photographs, but in meeting up with Cartier-Bresson again, I am reminded that the notion of the "decisive moment" resonates in a much larger way for me. The other morning, as I sat down to make the daily drawing, holding pen to a spare sheet of 6 x 4" Japanese paper, I was caught in that decisive moment when my arm and hand began to move, making the first mark with the pen. That split second....that decisive moment charts the course of the drawing. It seems the stage is set with that first mark....is it halting or flowing, a moving line or a closed shape, does the drawing begin in the middle or hover in a corner? It seems so inconsequential, as the drawing unfolds in mere moments, completely intuitively, but it does so in response to that decisive moment of the first mark. I see this as a kind of metaphor for many larger things in life.

As I have reflected on the expanded passage in H is for Hawk, in which she talks about the photographs her father took, capturing particular moments on film, I've thought about this. Those moments captured by photographs are just the ones we see, the few rare moments that are actually caught, stilled for the ages. But those moments are happening everywhere, at all times, and almost none of them are captured, at least by cameras, digital or otherwise. If we are paying attention, they are captured by our senses and stored in our memory, fading (or not) like old Polaroids. But think of this...those moments, those decisive moments, are happening all around us, every day, and we miss most of them. But they are part of the history of time, because they happened, even if no one noticed. It's the way I like to envision all the words spoken, hovering in the air, the sincere and heartfelt ones mingling with the thoughtlessly uttered and the cruelly spoken. In those moments when that image comes to me, I want to limit my words to ones that count, that can add something meaningful, rather than clutter the void with ever more prattle.

During these reflections on the decisive moment,  I came back to something I like to remind myself, which is that every moment is a moment of choice. The decisive moment implies making a choice. But those moments are, in effect, every moment. We can choose to respond or react in a given situation, we can focus our attention or avoid noticing, we making countless choices...without even paying attention to the fact that we've done so. 

So for me, this short passage, related in less than a page in my book, has expanded in numerous directions. I am reminded that each moment is a moment of decision, that those "decisive moments" we have recorded in our collective memories through still photographs and are happening all around us, all the time. They'll remain with the ages, just beyond the reach of our awareness, or if we slow down, use our senses more mindfully, we can record them through our own engagement. And the decisive moment is very much with me during my time in the studio, creating new work that is made through the result of an endless accumulation of decisive moments.

Nothing like hours at the desk in the studio to fuel the wondering mind! Glimpses above of works in progress and a slowly expanded lineup of new pieces for my show. The plan is to have 27 of these in 3 groups of 9. That will mean roughly one piece a day....not much time for reading, but plenty of time for reflection!!

See you again soon. Enjoy the rest of your week.

New Additions to Missouri Bend Studio on Etsy

Notes From the Ancestors no.12

Well, it's quite the gloomy day here. Cool and wet, but nothing unusual for mid-November....except that this year we've had such warm, beautiful weather, anything else seems an affront to the senses! I expect winter will arrive at some point, but even once we get through today, we're back up to the 60s for the weekend. Who can argue with that?

Notes From The Ancestors no. 9

I have been slowly adding the pieces that remain from the Notes From the Ancestors series. Up until now, they have been listed on my website, but only sporadically on Etsy. I would say that the work from this series is the most dear to my heart and includes some of my favorite pieces, but now it's time to let them go to be loved by someone else.

Notes From The Ancestors no.11

As a thank you to the love and support I've received from blogging friends near and far, I'm creating a coupon code: ANCESTORS, which you can use for 10% off (active until 12/31/15) anywhere in my Etsy shop, MissouriBendStudio. A few of the Notes From The Ancestors pieces are professionally framed, which makes them even more costly, I realize, but that also makes them ready to hang!! Some of the pieces added this week are here on this post. Head on over to MissouriBendStudio and do a little perusing. Other new pieces have been added as well, including a couple from the companion series, The Celadon Suite.

Notes From The Ancestors no. 4

Notes From The Ancestors no.5

Feel free to contact me with questions, especially if you are interested in an unframed piece. Because the works are beeswax and often are created with stitching, beads and/or buttons, framing is not so straightforward as with other works of art. I'm happy to discuss and share ideas.

Have a lovely day!

Intersections, Cross Sections, Moments in Time

Greetings, everyone! We are definitely in the last days of October and here in South Dakota, temperatures are still unseasonably warm, it seems to me. Memory is faulty, though, and it occurs to me that perhaps I say this every year! Most of the leaves are on the ground, but still a good number on the trees, displaying all manner of beautiful fall gorgeousness.We had a road trip to Minnesota last weekend and admired the colors in the landscape along the St. Croix River that divides Minnesota from Wisconsin. Autumn is definitely a favorite time of year.

In my last post, I mentioned the idea of intersections and how at any moment we find ourselves reflected in the crossing of time with place. As in...you are here. We are crossing a river of time that moves swiftly from a past, through us in the present and on to the future. You can't hold it and there is no stopping it, as the current is swift. But something in the tiny daily drawing I made yesterday made me think about this a little differently.

Moments like this remind me why it is so important for me to engage in the practice of making the daily drawings. My best thinking, my best insights come through my hands. As I made this deceptively simple drawing, I was reminded of tree rings, which are a kind of mirror that reflect time and place. 

All manner of things affect the growth of a tree, all of which are reflected in the pattern of the trees rings. Rain patterns, temperature, conditions of crowding, insects and more leave their mark...a reflection of time and place in the cross section of a tree. 

This lovely photo below led me an interesting site, Urban Remains, that reclaims, recycles and documents antique building materials in Chicago. There is a fascinating blog that reveals Eric Nordstrom's intense interest in the history of these building materials and the other artifacts that are unearthed. I am heading back there to investigate further....porcelain, 19th century nails, ancient wood, all beautifully photographed and documented. This site is all about the intersections and cross sections, revealing lost moments in time. There is a lesson here connected to remembering and forgetting, even as we pause to acknowledge our place in the flow of history.

Enjoy the rest of your week....cheers!

Time As A River

Book of Lost Time

The Secret of Winter

My musings this week have led me to some new insights, which may seem fairly to you, which they no doubt are, but which have provided an important subtle shift in the way I move through the day. It sounds almost cliche to say that "time is like a river" and yet, I realized that living through that understanding was not what I had been doing. I spent a very relaxing, nicely paced day on New Year's....it was a lovely balance of work in the studio, reading, reflecting, and simple joy in the good things my husband and I have in our lives. The day flowed....yes, like the river outside my window, without hitting a snag. I felt as if I was moving with time, immersed in it and not struggling or fighting against the current. There was a moment during that day when I understood that the difference in the way I was feeling had to do with the fact that I'd been thinking and behaving as if time was a commodity....a thing to be clutched close to the heart, lest it be frittered away or taken from me without my permission and spent often like a miser. So much effort required to keep time from flowing as it will....somehow on New Year's Day I had gotten into the river and was at one with the flow. Such a relief!

Now that I've posted a couple of the newer pieces shown above, I see that the title of that top piece, Book of Lost Time, which was done at the end of 2013, certainly echoes my earlier view. This piece is about more than that however...buried history, the loss of ancient knowlege and the limits of our collective memory. The second piece is a simple book page reflecting the quiet of a winter landscape.

Any new insights in the first few days of January? I do hope you are having a nice start to the year. While it's colder than I'd like, the winter landscape is beautiful here in South Dakota, and I am plenty warm inside....about to head back into the studio. Best wishes!

Wednesday Words: A Taste of Einstein's Dreams by Alan Lightman

I wanted to share a little snippet of a beautiful book with you, in hopes of enticing you to discover it more fully for yourselves.  Einstein's Dreams, by Alan Lightman, is a magical little gem that will stretch your ideas about time and space. It is beautifully written and it is one of those books you must have in your collection...it isn't just enough to read it, you must own it, you must have on your shelves to live in your midst.....the smallest taste here...

From the chapter titled:
24 April 1905

"In this world, there are two times. There is mechanical time and there is body time. The first is as rigid and metallic as a massive pendulum of iron that swings back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. The second squirms and wriggles like a bluefish in a bay. The first is unyielding, predetermined. The second makes up its mind as it goes along.

Many are convinced that mechanical time does not exist. When they pass the giant clock on the Kramgasse they do not see it; nor do they hear its chimes while sending packages on Postgasse or strolling between flowers in the Rosengarten. They wear watches on their wrists, but only as ornaments or as courtesies to those who would give timepieces as gifts. They do not keep clocks in their houses. Instead, they listen to their heartbeats..."

I don't want to say any more....reading it yourself is too rich an experience for me to give any more away!

A Walk Through The Universe: The Fleeting Moment, The Backward Glance, Week 1

Wow...that's a long title for a post!  But I've had a week to reflect on this phrase "the fleeting moment, the backward glance"... such a large idea...encompassing ideas of time, memory, vastness, intimacy, seeing, reflecting, longing, loss and more.  I'm not sure now whether taking a month to really delve into the topic makes it more or less difficult!!!  So, let's get on with it, shall we?  The photos you'll see below can be found readily availble for viewing or download at the NASA website...this is just enough to begin the journey. I'm actually now rewriting almost this entire post, as I lost over an hour's worth of work when I tried to insert captions in the photos.  So, you won't see captions, but know that you can find an amazing array of photos at NASA!

Our thoughts are often fed by what book or books are currently in progress and it happens that, among other things, I am reading A Short History of Nearly Everything by Bill Bryson.  Actually, my husband and I are reading it together, in that I'm reading it aloud as time permits...on car trips, sometimes before we go to sleep, whenever the spirit strikes. Our very own book on CD, live and in person! Neither one of us has a strong inclination toward the scientific mind, but we are both fascinated by the sciences, by ideas and how they come to be discovered.  Ooops...off on a tangent.  So, still at the beginning of the book, I've been thinking a lot about the macro (the unimaginably vast universe) and the micro (the unimaginable small universe). It seems to me that in order to talk about "the fleeting moment, the backward glance", it is necessary to place it in some sort of context and for me, the larger cosmos (the micro and the macro) is a way to talk about time and distance.

Whenever we look out at the night sky, it is the ultimate backward glance...we look back into a time and distance almost impossible to imagine.  As Bill Bryson is fond of saying, the universe is just enormous. We look out at stars whose light has been travelling often millions and billions of years and only now appears to our gaze.  And here's a another little bit of perspective about our very own tiny solar system swirling in space. Remember those school room charts that lined up the planets, their size and distance relationships, just so?  Well I must have always known that nothing was quite so neat and tidy, but I wasn't quite ready for this kind of adjustment....that it is impossible really to depict the solar system to scale, even with a multitude of foldout pages, for if earth were reduced to the size of a pea, Jupiter would be a thousand feet away and Pluto a mile and half, but alas also the size of a bacterium and impossible to see.  Proxima Centauri, our nearest star, would be nearly ten thousand miles away.  Gulp. Enormous doesn't even come close.

And how about the impossible-to-comprehend tiny universe that makes up everything we experience with our senses...oh, including us...let's look at this little footnote from page 104. Avogadro's number, a basic unit of measure in chemistry, is the number of molecules found in 2.016 grams of hydrogen or any other equal volume of gas.  It's quite the formula to write, but here's how Bill Bryson helps us to understand it's magnitude. How about the equivalent of the number of popcorn kernels needed to cover the United States to a depth of nine miles, or cupfuls of water in the Pacific Ocean, or soft drink cans that would cover the earth to a depth of 200 miles if stacked evenly.  That number of American pennies would be enough to make each person on earth a dollar trillionaire.  It's just so big...this is molecules...we won't even make it to subatomic particles before we short circuit!!!  

So, where are we in all this vastness...or that tree, or the wilting flower in the vase, or the vase itself...what do we make of all that we experience in a lifetime?  Are we not, for our brief moment, at the intersection of these vast worlds...everything we know and experience is made of the very stuff of the cosmos, fleeting and yet eternal, as the dance of light and energy continues indefinitely. A kind of loop, all one, the micro and the macro....I can't figure out how to describe it.

Here's how I make sense of it all...I make art that points to larger things. The night sky has long been a feature in my work and I incorporate it as a kind of pointer to that larger context, as if to say, "look up, look out, look back, it's all so much bigger than we can imagine!"  Below is a piece from a few years ago, The Bundle.  There is the "everyman" making his brief apprearance, leaving a trail of his own history in a scatttering of pearls.  That bundle, tightly wound and bursting at the seams....what a very large gift....we must be careful how we unwrap it.

More to think about during the week, as we come to terms with The Fleeting Moment, The Backward Glance.  I'd love to hear comments, ideas that come to your mind....this feature can be a collaborative venture! I look forward to hearing from you!

Enjoy the days....

The Commonplace Book

I checked out a great book on the four season from the library where I work....A Time For Every Purpose: The Four Seasons in American Culture by Michael Kammen (Univ. of North Carolina Press, 2004)...it's exactly what I've been looking for as a way to gain a wider context for my recent musings about the seasons and our collective connection to time and place.  As I jotted down a quote I was reminded of my practice a few years ago of keeping a commonplace book, which is a sort of a running journal or collection of quotations and passages from books, readings, etc.   This was common practice many centuries ago--it suits my need for making documentation! Here's a portion of a quote I'll share with you from the prologue:

"Consequently, we will be tracing, among other things, not only the persistence of nostalgia but a profound nostalgia for persistence.  In an unpredictable, disorderly world of flux, the seasonal cycle offers reassurance that at least some fundamentals in this life are eternal."....Michael Kammen, A Time for Every Purpose: The Four Seasons in American Culture.

Precisely!!!