Another post in our celebrations of interNational Photography Month.
Through a Lens Darkly: How African-Americans Use Photography to Shape Their Cultural Representation
Another post in our celebrations of interNational Photography Month.
Category: Photography/Photographer
Sacred Space and Photography: Light
This month is interNational Photography month! Here at The Bardo Group, we will be playing with this theme all month-long. On Sundays, we will be focusing on where the practice of photography intersects with our own experience and expression of spirituality.
In my journey with photography, I have become more aware of light. The presence of light, the absence of light, how it causes reflection, my friend, Paul Jeffrey, told us once that he always turns the flash off, taking advantage of natural light. (I’m sure the rule is “almost always.”) I find that in photographing nature, that I try to stick to that rule and rely on photo-editing software to help me out if I need it. He also taught us how to make a faux tripod to steady ourselves when our shutter speed is taking just a little bit too long.
Light is a dominant theme in religious traditions also.
- Christianity: “The light shines in the darkness and the darkness did not overcome it.” (John 1:5),
- Islam: “Knowledge makes you free from the chains of ignorance, and revives your heart, knowledge takes you out from the darkness of suspicions and superstitions, and gives a new light to your eyes. (Hazrat Abu Ali Saqfi)
- Judaism: “I will say to the prisoners, ‘Go free!’ and to those who are in darkness, ‘Come out to the light!’ (Isaiah 49:9)
- Buddhism: “Doubt everything. Find your own light.” (Gautama Buddha)
- Hinduism: “One who kindles the light of awareness within gets true light.” (Unattributed)
- Baha’i: “Grant that the light of unity may envelop the whole earth.” (Bahá’u’lláh)
The general thrust is that light is a metaphor for that which brings us to a higher consciousness or awareness, provides hope, guidance, and love. It is a beautiful thing when, through appropriate use of light, we can communicate a deeper exploration of these qualities—awareness of what is unseen, hope, love, beauty—a very real reflection of life. And sometimes, light lets you see something in a different way.
My favorite picture that I’ve ever taken of one of my children captures light and it seems, to me, to convey innocence and an essential quality of “child” that is so easy to forget. This is an old photo, by the way! And the picture isn’t perfect, but it still conveys a lightness of being that transcends the particular quality of the photo.
CC License (BY-NC)
How do the following pictures and their use of light point to something beyond the images captured in the photo?
by Terri Stewart
What do thoughts of light lead you to? Do you have a favorite photo that features light or the absence of light?
Shalom and Amen!
Post by Terri Stewart, 2014
Photography, CC License (CC BY-NC)
Terri Stewart ~ a member of our Core Team, comes from an eclectic background and considers herself to be grounded in contemplation and justice. She is the Director and Founder of the Youth Chaplaincy Coalition that serves youth affected by the justice system. As a graduate of Seattle University’s School of Theology and Ministry, she earned her Master’s of Divinity and a Post-Master’s Certificate in Spiritual Direction with honors and is a rare United Methodist student in the Jesuit Honor Society, Alpha Sigma Nu. She is a contributing author to the Abingdon Worship Annual.
Her online presence is “CloakedMonk.” This speaks to her grounding in contemplative arts (photography, mandala, poetry) and the need to live it out in the world. The cloak is the disguise of normalcy as she advocates for justice and peace. You can find her at www.cloakedmonk.com,www.twitter.com/cloakedmonk, and www.facebook.com/cloakedmonk. To reach her for conversation, send a note to cloakedmonk@outlook.com.
About my friend, Wendy Alger, Fine Art Photographer
WENDY ALGER (b. 1972), Chicago, IL, U.S.A.
“Photography. It’s like music … It’s like your favorite song, something you can listen to over and over and over again. You try to explain it to some and you can’t. That’s the feeling it gives me. It’s like traveling and you want to tell everyone how great it was … and I have that experience every time I pick up a camera.” Wendy Alger
My friend, Wendy Alger, is a talented photographer, now still active though legally blind. Wendy pursued the craft of photography as a hobby until another friend of hers suggested that she become a photographer. Wendy thought that sounded just right and a natural thing to do since both her parents were photography enthusiasts. Wendy’s dad supported her new goal and gave her one of his cameras and some lenses. And so the story begins …
At the time when this adventure started, Wendy owned an old ’68 Mustang. She’d drive around, listening to music. When something called out to her, she’d stop and take photographs. Thus Wendy began to learn what subjects appealed. “I photographed everything that felt right and compelled me to keep taking photographs.” Slowly, she discovered the artful photographer within and her own distinctive style. “I enrolled at the Academy of Art University in San Francisco and trained there, where I learned manual SLR. I also learned how to use a dark room.”
I am always surprised and delighted with the remarkable results Wendy manages despite the limitations of her sight due to retinitis pigmentosa. Quite a bit older than Wendy, I cut my own photo visionings using a Brownie and have not graduated much beyond that. My camera is digital, but it’s just a simple budget-wise P.H.D. (Push Here Dummy) camera. Wendy, however, uses newer, better quality and more complex equipment than mine and tells me that these newer technologies facilitate the practice of her craft. “I use a digital camera and I can check my pictures on the camera instead of in a dark room. Nowadays, my darkroom is a laptop, Photoshop and Photoshop Lightroom. This allows me to transform and print my images at home. I also use visual memory … I remember feeling to get through a photo session.”
Wendy’s long-term goal:
“To have my artwork displayed in the same building as Walker Evans in my lifetime – not after – during! My vision problems are not stopping me. I never even think about that. After I was diagnosed and as soon as I got the money I bought my digital camera.”
Here is a small gallery of Wendy’s recent work with a digital camera. The photo at the head of the post and the first one below are self-portraits. Wendy’s photographs are copyright protected. You can see more of her work HERE. She’s now in the process of updating her site.
– Jamie Dedes
© photographs, 2011 Wendy Rose Alger, All rights reserved
JAMIE DEDES (The Poet by Day)~ I am a medically retired (disabled) elder and the mother of a married son. The graces of poetry, art, music, writing and reading continue to evolve as a sources of wonder and solace, as creative outlets, and as a part of my spiritual practice. My Facebook pages are: Jamie Dedes (Arts and Humanities) and Simply Living, Living Simply.
The photograph to your right, Portrait of a Photographer, which some will recognize as the photo I used for Wordless Wednesday, is a portrait of Wendy. I guess it might be more correct to say it’s a portrait of the camera not the photographer, though it was meant to capture the spirit in which Wendy works. I took the photograph some years ago when we spent an afternoon at Union Cemetery in Redwood City, Wendy pursuing art and me as chauffeur and tag-along doing the best I could. My own portrait here is a selfie captured using the photo feature on my MacBook. Happy interNational Photography Month.
interNational Photography Month: Wordless Wednesday
“A picture is worth a thousand words.” So said sources from the early 20th century, and advertising and marketing departments were quick to adopt this maxim. Images became icons; symbols got recognition and replicated themselves. In our viral age, this happens in a nanosecond. We are bombarded with so many images in a day that we simply filter out most of them. Junk mail, pop-ups, video clips and trademarks pass in and out of our field of vision at an alarming rate.
When was the last time you looked at an image for more than 10 seconds? When was the last time you stood in a museum or gallery in front of an image for more than 10 minutes? Was that image a photograph?
Suppose we create a virtual photographic museum here on Bardo. Share with us a photo that you have taken that will draw us into some full minutes of contemplative focus. It may be a photograph that tells an entire story in itself. It may be a place to which we’re drawn, compelled to step into the frame. It may be a portrait of a face that speaks volumes of stories. (What’s interesting to note is that we, like infants, will look long into the faces of people, especially those to whom we feel strongly connected.) Perhaps one of these photographs will inspire a story or essay in the writers amongst us for a future time….for now, let it be wordless. Here are some from my collection to “prime the pump”.
YOU ARE INVITED TO SHARE YOUR PHOTOGRAPHS WITH US.
PLEASE LINK THEM TO THIS SITE USING MISTER LINKY BELOW
OR LEAVE THE LINK IN THE COMMENTS SECTION
THE LINK WILL STAY OPEN FOR 72 HOURS AND PRISCILLA WILL VISIT AND COMMENT
WE HOPE YOU WILL ALSO VISIT ONE ANOTHER TO COMMENT AND ENCOURAGE
PRISCILLA GALASSO ~ started her blog at scillagrace.com to mark the beginning of her fiftieth year. Born to summer and given a name that means ‘ancient’, her travel through seasons of time and landscape has inspired her to create visual and verbal souvenirs of her journey.
Currently living in Wisconsin, she considers herself a lifelong learner and educator. She gives private voice lessons, is employed by two different museums and runs a business (Scholar & Poet Books, via eBay and ABE Books) with her partner, Steve.
Photographs “are made with the eye, heart and head.” French Photographer Henri Cartier-Bresson: The Decisive Moment
Cartier-Bresson’s, The Decisive Moment, the 1952 US edition of Images à la sauvette. The book contains the term “the decisive moment” now synonymous with Cartier-Bresson:
“There is nothing in this world that does not have a decisive moment.”
“It is an illusion that photos are made with the camera… they are made with the eye, heart and head.” – Henri Cartier-Bresson (1908-2004), French photograph said to be the father of photojournalist
Sacred Space in Photography: Perspective
This month is interNational Photography month! Here at The Bardo Group, we will be playing with this theme all month-long. On Sundays, we will be focusing on where the practice of photography intersects with our own experience and expression of spirituality.
Perspective is how we look at things. In a lot of ways it can be correlated with our privilege. When we have a lot of privilege in terms of social, economic, and political capital, we tend to see things from an empowered or “power over” perspective. When we have don’t have a lot of privilege, we tend to see things from a “power under” perspective. So our perspective on life or power placement has a lot to do with how we encounter others.
In my religious tradition, and in most spiritual movements (in my understanding), there is a movement to put power down and to empower those who have little power. Just a sampling:
- Christianity has the beatitudes as a starting point,
- Islam has the practice of charity,
- Judaism has the call to care for the widow, the orphan, and the stranger among us,
- Buddhism feels it is important to support the poor and needy,
- Hinduism practices that all life forms are respected and should be treated well.
- Baha’i faith which embraces loving kindness for all life forms and truth in all sacred scriptures (thank you to readers for adding on!)
And it goes on! So it seems that in the great religious traditions, the practice of caring for those who are among “the lost, the least, and the lonely” is of paramount importance. I think the challenge is moving from a position of “power over” to a position of “power with.” This involves a change of perspective. (See, I’m getting to the photographic point!)
I think that if our spiritual practices support our daily living, we will have more effective daily living! If we need to work on finding different perspectives from “power over,” then one way to do it is through photography as a spiritual practice.
How we see things tells a story. Perspective is a spiritual practice and can be embodied in our photography practice. How does it change your view if, instead of being up high as an adult, you crouched down or laid down? One recent photo I took is a great example for perspective. One of my friend’s comment was: “I wish I had a mouse on a skateboard!” Which brought an even new viewpoint because I definitely would not have thought of that! However, once she said that, I now have a perpetual picture of a mouse playing on the below log.
To get this photo, I had to crouch way down onto the log and become one with the dirt. It looks way cool from here. The photo from standing up is not nearly as fun. It loses the “going on forever” perspective.
Over time, I’ve gotten better at thinking of doing this—of finding new perspectives. The same is true in my life—almost to a fault! I might over-identify with some of my people who are among the lost, the least, and the lonely. Sometimes. But by noticing new perspectives in photography, it models for me new perspectives in my spiritual life and then new perspectives in my lived life.
- See the world in a new way
- See the divine in a new way
- See others in a new way
Below are three photos of trees—the same trees with different perspectives (on the same hike). I think each one tells a different story.
Applying this to the ideas of perspective & our story as embodied in relationships of power over, power with, or power under—how can we develop the flexibility to enter into another perspective?
You never know what you will see when you begin to enter into another perspective. I found this lovely leaf cradling a little tiny leaf. How beautiful! And it makes me remember the way we should cradle one another.
Who will you cradle today by seeing something with a new perspective?
Shalom and Amen!
Post by Terri Stewart, 2014
Photography, CC License (CC BY-NC)
Terri Stewart ~ a member of our Core Team, comes from an eclectic background and considers herself to be grounded in contemplation and justice. She is the Director and Founder of the Youth Chaplaincy Coalition that serves youth affected by the justice system. As a graduate of Seattle University’s School of Theology and Ministry, she earned her Master’s of Divinity and a Post-Master’s Certificate in Spiritual Direction with honors and is a rare United Methodist student in the Jesuit Honor Society, Alpha Sigma Nu. She is a contributing author to the Abingdon Worship Annual.
Her online presence is “CloakedMonk.” This speaks to her grounding in contemplative arts (photography, mandala, poetry) and the need to live it out in the world. The cloak is the disguise of normalcy as she advocates for justice and peace. You can find her at www.cloakedmonk.com,www.twitter.com/cloakedmonk, and www.facebook.com/cloakedmonk. To reach her for conversation, send a note to cloakedmonk@outlook.com.
Life is like a camera …
photographic inspiration for a
HAPPY interNATIONAL PHOTOGRAPHY MONTH!
and a joy-filled life!
You are invited to share your photography
with us here on May 14 for Wordless Wednesday
hosted by Priscilla Galasso (scillagrace)
The Saint Louis Arch . . . A Meditation.
I have been up in The Gateway Arch only once. If recall serves the cars are small and remind me of bullets, although this took place long ago and I really cannot say how accurate my memory is today. The car or cars hold few people. The Gateway Arch as it is known is a part of the Jefferson National Expansion Memorial and sits upon very lovely park ground adjacent to the Mississippi River. I prefer to see The Arch from the outside, it possesses a certain overwhelming stature and majesty. The Arch was designed by the Finnish architect Eero Saarinen. Opening in 1967, it would become known as the Gateway to the West. At that time it was the tallest known monument built by man. I came to St Louis in 1966 from the east coast. The Arch never really meant a thing to me in my early life here in St Louis. It was later when I was a happier person that I discovered The Arch. I say that I discovered The Arch and my camera rather simultaneously, although those facts are a bit loose. The initial photo was not taken by me but is from Wikipedia. I no longer have a photo of the entire Arch. I had fun one day photographing The Arch and then chopping up those photos as an artistic endeavor. I have always found this series to be quite meditative. I hope that you enjoy them.
– Liz Rice-Sosne
© 2014, essay and photographs, Liz Rice-Sosne, All rights reserved
LIZ RICE-SOSNE a.k.a. Raven Spirit (noh where), perhaps the oldest friend to Bardo, is the newest member of The Bardo Group Core Team. She is also our new Voices for Peace project outreach coordinator and our go-to person for all things related to haiku. She says she “writes for no reason at all. It is simply a pleasure.” Blogging, mostly poetry, has produced numerous friends for whom she has a great appreciation. Liz is an experienced blogger, photographer and a trained shaman. We think her middle name should be “adventure.”
Sacred Space in the Frame
This month is interNational Photography month! Here at The Bardo Group, we will be playing with this theme all month long. On Sundays, we will be focusing on where the practice of photography intersects with our own experience and expression of spirituality.
Thomas Merton has a photograph he titled “Sky Hook.” He wrote about it, “It is the only known picture of God.” It is definitely not what you would expect! No heavenly skies, no angels, no beard. What was Merton thinking…a simply construction hook hanging from the sky towards the earth. (You can see the photo many places on the internet, but I couldn’t find a place with clear permissions.)
Often we see photos that prompt us to stop, look, and to appreciate what we have seen but also to wonder about something more. That something more can be something bigger or something smaller. My new friend and photographer, Paul Jeffrey, takes photos for the United Methodist Church for the General Board of Global Ministries—yes! He is a photographer-missionary. He typically focuses on the beauty and stories found in people. There is a photo of a young child in a box (all kids like to sit in boxes, no matter where they are in the world!) He recently shared this photo with us in a small group and talked about the story. He said there was a huge reaction to the photo. Such a beautiful, young child abandoned in a box! What the photo does not show is that the family was just out of the frame.
How we frame our photographs tells a story.
What if Merton’s photo had the construction equipment in it? What if Jeffrey’s photo had the family in it? Would it tell a different story? Would that story be better? Worse? More effective? Less effective? What does this say about how we frame the stories of our own lives?
Framing is a spiritual practice. Or at least knowing what we are cutting from the frame. If we willingly cut off parts of the frame to focus our attention onto another part, that is fine. For the moment. But if we willingly cut of parts of the frame and never return to the whole, something is lost. I am thinking, in particular, of people who do things like cutting science out of their lives or people who cannot see the whole spectrum of society. When we get caught up in our own particularity, we forget the universal journey. And we forget that the child in a box has a loving, concerned family.
Below is a collage of one of my photos that I framed in two different ways. They tell completely different stories, in my opinion!
You don’t even have to be a photographer to understand the importance of framing. Hold your hands up around your face, blocking parts of your viewing field, and you will be able to frame your vision. Sitting right where you are!
In photography, we can say, “Where does framing help tell the story? Where does it hurt the story?”
In our lives we can say,
Where has framing helped you tell your own story? Where has it hurt you?
I’d love it if you would share your blog and perhaps a photo comparing two different ways of framing. That would be wonderful!
Shalom and Amen!
Post by Terri Stewart, 2014
CC License (CC BY-NC)
Terri Stewart ~ a member of our Core Team, comes from an eclectic background and considers herself to be grounded in contemplation and justice. She is the Director and Founder of the Youth Chaplaincy Coalition that serves youth affected by the justice system. As a graduate of Seattle University’s School of Theology and Ministry, she earned her Master’s of Divinity and a Post-Master’s Certificate in Spiritual Direction with honors and is a rare United Methodist student in the Jesuit Honor Society, Alpha Sigma Nu. She is a contributing author to the Abingdon Worship Annual.
Her online presence is “CloakedMonk.” This speaks to her grounding in contemplative arts (photography, mandala, poetry) and the need to live it out in the world. The cloak is the disguise of normalcy as she advocates for justice and peace. You can find her at www.cloakedmonk.com,www.twitter.com/cloakedmonk, and www.facebook.com/cloakedmonk. To reach her for conversation, send a note to cloakedmonk@outlook.com.
The Very Picture
The king was plagued with the heavy burden of responsibility. “Drought and famine, war and rebellion, disease and disaster, one after the other! I must find a way to quiet my troubled heart, so I can sleep at night!” He offered a reward to the artist who could paint him a picture of perfect peace. Artists came from all over the kingdom, each bringing his own vision of peace.
One painted a sheltered mountain valley.
Another a pristine lake, still and calm, a perfect mirror to reflect a clear blue sky.
There was an orchard in full bloom.
Fluffy clouds with silver linings.
Cheerful sunny days.
And so many sunsets!
The king studied them all, and at last he decided. He chose a painting of a waterfall, tumbling down a mountainside, beneath a dark, angry sky.
“But your majesty,” said his counselor. “Why this painting? This is a portrayal of chaos.”
“Look closely,” said the king. He pointed to a sheltered spot behind the waterfall, where there was a ledge between the jagged rocks. Upon that ledge a mother bird had built her nest. Snuggled beneath her wings, safe and warm, were her precious chicks.
“I understand now,” said the king. “Peace happens not only where there is an absence of strife and suffering. In the midst of chaos, if there is calm in your heart, will you know the true meaning of peace.”
(Mrs. Bradford Ripley and Her Children, 1852. By Robert Walter Weir, Detroit Institute of Art)
(Sculpture for his friend Robert Arthur by Samuel Murray, Detroit Institute of Art)
Copyright 2013 Naomi Baltuck
NAOMI BALTUCK ~ is a Contributing Editor and Resident Storyteller here
at Bardo. She is a world-traveler and an award-winning writer, photographer, and story-teller whose works of fiction and nonfiction are available through Amazon HERE. Naomi presents her wonderful photo-stories – always interesting and rich with meaning and humor – at Writing Between the Lines, Life from the Writer’s POV. She also conducts workshops such as Peace Porridge (multicultural stories to promote cooperation, goodwill, and peaceful coexistence), Whispers in the Graveyard (a spellbinding array of haunting and mysterious stories), Tandem Tales, Traveling Light Around the World, and others. For more on her programs visit Naomi Baltuck.com
interNational Photography Month, join us in celebrating this art form
“When words become unclear, I shall focus with photographs. When images become inadequate, I shall be content with silence.” Ansel Adams (1902-1984), American photographer
As with interNational Poetry Month, we are recreating National Photography Month, an event sponsored by the American Photography Association, into our own event that crosses borders. This was a spur-of-the moment decision of the core team and the hope is share work, ideas, and perhaps some instruction on photography as record, story, spiritual practice/meditation and fine art. We’ll also have at least one Wordless Wednesday to allow everyone to link in their own work. While there will be quite a few posts on or including exemplary photography, there will still be posts dedicated to poetry, essay and other arts.
To begin this evening, we share a short video, So There You Go, featuring the world-renown American portrait photographer, Annie Leibovitz (b.1949).
“Born in Waterbury, Connecticut, on October 2, 1949, Leibovitz is the third of six children. She is a third-generation American whose great-grandparents were Jewish immigrants from Central and Eastern Europe. Her father’s parents had emigrated from Romania. Her mother, Marilyn Edith, née Heit, was a modern dance instructor of Estonian Jewish heritage; her father, Samuel Leibovitz, was a lieutenant colonel in the U.S. Air Force. The family moved frequently with her father’s duty assignments, and she took her first pictures when he was stationed in the Philippines during the Vietnam War.
At Northwood High School, she became interested in various artistic endeavors, and began to write and play music. She attended the San Francisco Art Institute, where she studied painting. For several years, she continued to develop her photography skills while working various jobs, including a stint on a kibbutz in Amir, Israel, for several months in 1969.” bio courtesy of Wikipedia
Dandelions and Other Foreigners
A friend said to Hodja Nasruddin, “Look at all these dandelions! I’ve tried pulling them, poisoning them, starving them, digging them out by the root. Nothing works. I am at my wit’s end!”
“That’s a shame,” said the Hodja. “They are not a problem for me.”
“Really? Please tell me your secret, my friend!”
“It is very simple,” said Nasruddin. “I have learned to love them.”
Dandelions are native to Eurasia, but have traveled all over this world. In France they were called “Dent de Lion,” or “Lion’s Tooth,” because of their toothed leaves. In England they were, “Piss-a-Beds,” for their diuretic properties. In Germany, Russia, and Italy they are “blowing flowers.” In Catalan, Poland, Denmark, and Lithuania they are “milk flowers,” “milkpots,” and “sow’s milk,” after the flower stem’s milky sap. In Finland, Estonia, and Croatia, they are “butter flowers.” In China, they are “flower that grows in public spaces by the riverside,” while in Portugal, they are called, “your dad is bald,” after a game the children play with them.
A weed is only a weed if it is unwanted. These immigrants have been used by humans for food, winemaking, herbs, and medicine for all of our recorded history. Their roots are roasted for a chicory-like hot drink. They are brimming with vitamins, and they enrich the soil.
They were only introduced to North America by the first European settlers. Foreign? Yes. But think of all the good things they have brought with them. Think of summertime without their cheerful faces. Most of all, think of all the wishes that have come true since they have found a home here.
All words and images copyright Naomi Baltuck
NAOMI BALTUCK ~ is a Contributing Editor and Resident Storyteller here at Bardo. She is a world-traveler and an award-winning writer, photographer, and story-teller whose works of fiction and nonfiction are available through Amazon HERE. Naomi presents her wonderful photo-stories – always interesting and rich with meaning and humor – at Writing Between the Lines, Life from the Writer’s POV. She also conducts workshops such as Peace Porridge (multicultural stories to promote cooperation, goodwill, and peaceful coexistence), Whispers in the Graveyard (a spellbinding array of haunting and mysterious stories), Tandem Tales, Traveling Light Around the World, and others. For more on her programs visit Naomi Baltuck.com
my mother’s love…
sometimes
when a fever
runs high
and
i
am alone
in my bed
all my fears
swirling in my head
creating such
dread
i
would swear
i feel your gentle hands
wiping my brow
and
speaking softly
that all
will be well
and
that i
am
not
alone
Poem inspired by Soul Dipper (http://souldipper.wordpress.com/2012/01/31/love-embedded-a-mothers/)
CHARLES W. MARTIN (Reading Between the Minds) — earned his Ph.D. in Speech and Language Pathology with an emphasis in statistics. Throughout Charlie’s career, he maintained a devotion to the arts (literature/poetry, the theater, music and photography). Since his retirement in 2010, he has turned his full attention to poetry and photography. He publishes a poem and a photographic art piece each day at Read Between the Minds, Poetry, Photograph and Random Thoughts of Life. He is noted as a poet of social conscience. Charlie has been blogging since January 31, 2010. He has self-published a book of poetry entitled The Hawk Chronicles and will soon publish another book called A Bea in Your Bonnet: First Sting, featuring the renown Aunt Bea. In The Hawk Chronicles, Charlie provides a personification of his resident hawk with poems and photos taken over a two-year period. Charlie’s lastest book, When Spirits Touch, Dual Poetry, a collaboration with River Urke, is available through Amazon now.
Who Turned On the Lights?
People find the light in their life in so many ways and places. It can be as easy as turning on a switch.
Some find all the light they need in a sunset…
…or a moonrise.
Others find illumination in a church…
…a synagogue…
…a mosque…
…or a library.
Sacred is a place that lights up your heart.
It isn’t always easy to find…
Some look for it in food…
…at the bottom of a wine glass…
…or through yoga…
Some light up with the joy and anticipation of adventure.
And what constitutes an adventure is very personal.
Sometimes light comes in the form of a bright idea, a flash of inspiration…
The joy of creation in all of its many forms…
Everyone’s light shines through differently. To each his own.
For me, love shines brightest of all.
It’s our life’s work and pleasure to follow the light…
…or to make our own.
It is there.
It is there.
It is there.
All words and images copyright Naomi Baltuck
NAOMI BALTUCK ~ is a Contributing Editor and Resident Storyteller here at Bardo. She is a world-traveler and an award-winning writer, photographer, and story-teller whose works of fiction and nonfiction are available through Amazon HERE. Naomi presents her wonderful photo-stories – always interesting and rich with meaning and humor – at Writing Between the Lines, Life from the Writer’s POV. She also conducts workshops such as Peace Porridge (multicultural stories to promote cooperation, goodwill, and peaceful coexistence), Whispers in the Graveyard (a spellbinding array of haunting and mysterious stories), Tandem Tales, Traveling Light Around the World, and others. For more on her programs visit Naomi Baltuck.com
Staph Infection
As a newly graduated English Majorette, I headed Out West to seek my fortune, and arrived in Seattle just before the holiday season.
While I decided what to do with the rest of my life, I landed a temp job selling shoes at the downtown Frederick and Nelson’s to pay the rent.
The shoe did not fit. Most of the saleswomen spent their paychecks on new clothes, using the employee discount, of course. I had two and a half presentable outfits, and rotated. I didn’t wear make-up or high heels, but I did have a decent pair of leather boots that went with everything. I was competent and polite, except to the imperious bitches who mistook the fitting chair for a throne and were used to being waited on hand and foot. They were the ones who came in five minutes before closing, ordered me to fetch four different pairs of shoes in three sizes, then stuck out their feet for me to remove their own shoes for them.
That six week position seemed an eternity, but I had a secret superpower to get through it. Long before the invention of Photoshop, I had mastered my own techniques for photo doctoring.
It was crude, but effective. And my family was very forgiving.
All it took was a pin to scratch away here and a red marker to color in there, and voila! I turned my Frederick and Nelson’s staff pin into a Frederick and Nelson’s staph pin. No one even noticed, but somehow it was a sign, and it made all the difference to me.
Then one cold December day my boss called me into the back room. I was sure she was going to fire me for badge tampering. But she said, “I want you to work here on a permanent basis beginning in January.”
Before I could tell her, “Thank you, but I want to check out job opportunities in Hell first,” she leaned forward to stare at my bosom. Or at the badge on my bosom, to be more precise. “I think there’s a typo on your badge.”
“So it would seem,” I replied.
“That’s never happened before. Go get a new one, and then let me know as soon as possible about the job.”
I never did trade in my Little Red Badge of Courage for a new one. As for the job selling shoes… those boots were made for walking, and that’s just what they did. They walked on down to Grand Teton National Park, where I waited tables, and to King’s Canyon National Park, where I taught canoe.
And they brought me back to the home of my heart…
…where I became a professional storyteller…
Along the journey, I have learned to pay attention to my instincts, and to read the writing on the wall.
But I still keep the badge as a reminder that sometimes one must relish the tiny victories along the way.
c2013 all words and photographs, Naomi Baltuck
NAOMI BALTUCK ~ is a Contributing Editor and Resident Storyteller here at Bardo. She is a world-traveler and an award-winning writer, photographer, and story-teller whose works of fiction and nonfiction are available through Amazon HERE. Naomi presents her wonderful photo-stories – always interesting and rich with meaning and humor – at Writing Between the Lines, Life from the Writer’s POV. She also conducts workshops such as Peace Porridge (multicultural stories to promote cooperation, goodwill, and peaceful coexistence), Whispers in the Graveyard (a spellbinding array of haunting and mysterious stories), Tandem Tales, Traveling Light Around the World, and others. For more on her programs visit Naomi Baltuck.com
living faith…
when belief
becomes tangible
blood flows
through veins
in the same way
but
an invisible element
now pulses
with each heartbeat
not
measurable by
any
scientific means
but
all the same
real
there is
a calmness
and
peaceful demeanor
ever-present
that sense
that
someone
is holding
you close
each hour
of the day
– Charles W. Martin
© 2014, illustration and poem, Charles W. Martin, All rights reserved
CHARLES W. MARTIN (Reading Between the Minds) — earned his Ph.D. in Speech and Language Pathology with an emphasis in statistics. Throughout Charlie’s career, he maintained a devotion to the arts (literature/poetry, the theater, music and photography). Since his retirement in 2010, he has turned his full attention to poetry and photography. He publishes a poem and a photographic art piece each day at Read Between the Minds, Poetry, Photograph and Random Thoughts of Life. He is noted as a poet of social conscience. Charlie has been blogging since January 31, 2010. He has self-published a book of poetry entitled The Hawk Chronicles and will soon publish another book called A Bea in Your Bonnet: First Sting, featuring the renown Aunt Bea. In The Hawk Chronicles, Charlie provides a personification of his resident hawk with poems and photos taken over a two-year period. Charlie’s lastest book, When Spirits Touch, Dual Poetry, a collaboration with River Urke, is available through Amazon now.
Look Up
In Seattle the cold nights sneak up on you. Autumn chill was in the air, and summertime had slipped out the back door without even saying goodbye. Through the tree branches, we saw flashes of unexpected color that couldn’t be anything but a space ship! Eli and I stopped what we were doing…
…and ran to investigate. We brought the camera for photo-documentation.
We live three or four blocks from a sweeping view of Puget Sound.
For fireworks, sunsets, or alien invasions, we always head straight for the crest of the hill. Ferry boats light up black water like jewels.
But that night, the jewel on the crown turned out to be a ruby, the biggest reddest moon I had ever seen.
Don’t wait for an alien invasion. Just look up.
All word and images copyright 2012 Naomi Baltuck
.
NAOMI BALTUCK ~ is a Contributing Editor and Resident Storyteller here at Bardo. She is a world-traveler and an award-winning writer, photographer, and story-teller whose works of fiction and nonfiction are available through Amazon HERE. Naomi presents her wonderful photo-stories – always interesting and rich with meaning and humor – at Writing Between the Lines, Life from the Writer’s POV. She also conducts workshops such as Peace Porridge (multicultural stories to promote cooperation, goodwill, and peaceful coexistence), Whispers in the Graveyard (a spellbinding array of haunting and mysterious stories), Tandem Tales, Traveling Light Around the World, and others. For more on her programs visit Naomi Baltuck.com
Another Man’s Shoes
I’ve always told my kids it’s nice to share, but not everything. Bea was asthmatic, and every cold she caught seemed to morph into pneumonia. Since pre-school, they’d had it drilled into their heads not to drink from someone else’s cup. And, of course, when you’re traveling, don’t drink the water!
Years ago, while traveling in Italy…
…we had a long train ride from Naples….
…to La Spezia.
We were delighted to have a compartment to ourselves. The kids sketched and I knitted, while Thom read aloud to us from the YA novel, Donata, Daughter of Venice.
When the train stopped in Rome…
…a middle-aged couple came in, lugging bags, suitcases, groceries, and a 2 liter water bottle. I smiled politely, and we scooted over to make room, but I was privately disappointed to have to share our quiet space. They stowed their stuff, Thom tucked away our read-aloud, and I determined to catch up on my travel journal.
The man introduced himself as Giorgio, and his wife as Leah. Giorgio spoke very good English, but it was different. It sounded to me like he was speaking English with an Italian-Australian accent, an unexpected blend of cultures. As we left behind Rome Giorgio told us he was born in Italy, but lived in Australia. Their daughter studied in Pisa, had met someone, and now they were returning to the Old Country to attend her wedding to a nice Italian boy. Then Giorgio kindly offered us a drink of water from his bottle…which I politely refused. We couldn’t afford to get sick while on vacation.
“Please,” insisted Giorgio, perhaps assuming my reluctance was due to shyness. He filled six little paper cups with water, one for each of us. I took the cup, wishing there was a potted plant I could discreetly pour my little helping of hospitality into. Cups in hand, both kids watched intently, to take their cue from the Queen Mum of The Land of Do Not Share. I lifted the cup to my lips. Yes, and then I sipped, ignoring everything I knew about contagion, as well as the shocked stares of my children, and the smarty pants expression on my husband’s face.
Giorgio shared much more than water. As the train rattled along, he told us, step by step, how to cook his favorite Italian dishes. He told us we really couldn’t leave Italy not knowing how to make our own tomato sauce, or white cream sauce, or garlic sauce.
“Brown, but don’t burn the garlic,” he said. He dictated recipe after recipe, and I wrote it all down in my journal. Canneloni, parmigiana eggplant, chicken breast filet. “It is not difficult!” he assured me. Leah nodded in solemn agreement.
We passed a field of sunflowers. With tears in his eyes, he pointed and said, “Itsa beautifulla!”
I heard that heartfelt expression many times on our train ride. When we passed farms, olive groves, or little villages, his eyes would mist up. Overwhelmed, he shook his head and said again, “Itsa beautifulla!”
“You must miss Italy,” I said. “Why did your parents leave?” Giorgio said his family wanted to escape the pain and aftermath of post-war Italy…
…for a new life in Australia. He said Italians made up the one of the largest minorities in Australia. Like the Irish, who came to build the railroad in America, Italians provided cheap labor in a rapidly developing country. Just as the Irish faced discrimination, and were confronted with “No Irish Need Apply,” the Italians were told, “If you don’t like it, go back to Italy.”
Giorgio was a teenager, wanting desperately to fit in. Money was tight, but his father must’ve understood, because he bought him handsome new cream-colored shoes and matching trousers. To show off his new shoes, Giorgio and his brother walked out on the town. A gang of boys started following. They laughed at the shoes, tossed ethnic slurs, kicked dirt on the brothers and the prized shoes. Devastated, Giorgio went home. In his backyard, he took a knife and shredded the shoes beyond repair. His father couldn’t understand, but Leah did.
Giorgio was seventeen and Leah was fourteen. Both were born in Italy, the children of Italian immigrants to Australia. Once they found each other, they never looked back. Well, hardly ever. In time, Australians came to respect Italians as hard workers, and recognized the contribution they made to the country, much as we now celebrate Irish-Americans, at least on St. Patrick’s Day.
When Giorgio and Leah got off the train in Pisa…
…we felt we were saying goodbye to friends. We finally had the compartment to ourselves, but we didn’t whip out our read-aloud book. We needed time to think about Giorgio and Leah, and the story we had been privileged to share.
Of course, Thom and the kids teased me about sharing a cup with total strangers. But you’ll never know what you’re missing if you aren’t willing to share a compartment on a train, accept a drink of water from a stranger’s paper cup, or walk a mile in another man’s shoes.
All words and images copyright Naomi Baltuck
NAOMI BALTUCK ~ is a Contributing Editor and Resident Storyteller here at Bardo. She is a world-traveler and an award-winning writer, photographer, and story-teller whose works of fiction and nonfiction are available through Amazon HERE. Naomi presents her wonderful photo-stories – always interesting and rich with meaning and humor – at Writing Between the Lines, Life from the Writer’s POV. She also conducts workshops such as Peace Porridge (multicultural stories to promote cooperation, goodwill, and peaceful coexistence), Whispers in the Graveyard (a spellbinding array of haunting and mysterious stories), Tandem Tales, Traveling Light Around the World, and others. For more on her programs visit Naomi Baltuck.com
The BeZine 
