Toward perennial truths, away from the ephemeral, firm flesh of youth

I just devised the following theme for an extensive photography exhibit, coming up at the end of the year, at the Epsom Public Library.  But it wasn't me; it was my unconscious mind. As I shifted through my archives I found myself assembling certain seemingly, disparate images, which if juxtapositioned together, spoke to each other.

Still, I was surprised at how much work it took, adding and subtracting, until I settled on my final candidates.  When I finally stood back to admire my work, I discovered that my combined images told another, more inclusive tale.

The bigger story my photographs tell – but neglected to clue me in about – is that I have grown old. The beauty I am drawn to now is not pristine, unblemished perfection but elements worn and eroded by age and hard use: Subject matter more like me. The journey I am on now is more toward perennial truth not the ephemeral, firm flesh of youth.

Here's an example of one of my pairings: A straight, unmanipulated photo of a tree stump in a coastal rainforest in Oregon which I entitled "The Shaman:"

"The Shaman"
CC Jean Stimmell: September 1913

which I paired with a merged photograph I made this year of a hawk from Squam Lake and a stump from the Boscowen Town Forest:

"Tree Hawk"
CC Jean Stimmell: May 2016

And what, you may ask, do these two images have in common?

To me, this pairing symbolizes the resurgence of "The Great Spirit" in the recent worldwide movement back toward sustainability and indigenous living.  The Great Spirit, of course, is the  sacred term for the universal spiritual force at the basis of Native American and First Nation culture. According to Lakota activist Russell Means – and I agree – a better translation would be The Great Mystery.

Yes, that what this pairing of images are all about: Reveling in The Great Mystery of life!

Praise be to the outlier

Long Sands Beach, York ME
CC Jean Stimmell: 9/9/16

Sandpipers

in perfect synch

scurry for last call
on fast-forwarding legs.

All except one

–an outlier– 

who does not
give a damn!

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Prehistoric claw: is it T-Rex?

Along the edge of Great Bay:
Petrified remains of prehistoric claw?
CC Jean Stimmell: 9/3/16

The escort you can not afford to be without if you are a professional athlete

An athlete with his consort
CC Jean Stimmell

You don’t always get what you want

Apple tree at Wagon Wheel Farm: Durham, NH
CC Jean Stimmell: 8/18/16

This naturally occurring, obvious-beyond-doubt, heart symbol

is not Mother Nature’s date-stamp for love and good health.

Rather…

It is “heart-rot” caused a fungus who infected the apple tree

through a wound caused by a well-intentioned human pruner.

Creating the bowl that is your life

Raw Material of Life
CC Jean Stimmell

I had what still feels like a profound dream last Tuesday, 8/9/16 – like some kind of African proverb. I got up in the middle of the night and wrote it down. Here it is, for what it is worth, just as I wrote it down:

I am living in an indigenous village where school consists of only one task. The children are each given a cylindrical block of wood and their task is to cave a bowl out of this raw material. There are no time constraints: one can take as long as one wants.

 I use a curved knife and start cutting away the interior. It is slow going. One can chop with a knife in the early stages but that is dangerous: you might crack the wood or punch through the bottom. As I get further along, the work gets very delicate: using just my senses, feeling the outside and the inside simultaneously, I must make an intuitive judgment about whether the bowl is still too thick or approaching “rightness.”

While still in the dream I understand its significance: this is the bowl of life that I am fashioning to feed myself during my earthly existence. I can choose to take a shortcut and build a heavy, thick misshapen bowl. But that’s okay if that’s what I want to do. The bowl is still serviceable and will feed me well.  

On the other hand, I can strive to build a very light, piece of art (like the bowls that artisans sell at Sunapee Fair). It will impress some people and be easy to carry but comes with the risk of being easily broken.

The only way to fail at this indigenous school is to breach the bottom of your bowl. If it is too thin and leaks, then you will not flourish in life. Worse yet, if you cut a hole in the bottom, you will not be able to feed yourself and die.
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Cracked Bowl*
CC Jean Stimmell: August 14, 2016

* This photo is a black and white rendition of a carved, clay bowl created by Teresa Taylor, SaltyDogPottery.com. Teresa gave this piece to me because it developed a crack while being fired. I consider the crack gives the bowl additional worth, making it a magnificent sculpture.

The Unheard Buddha Hidden in the Shrubbery

Buddha by my office
CC Jean Stimmell: 8/3/16

Buddha, ever subtle, radiates his unheard wisdom

from the sanctuary of my rhododendron

Is that the same truth, I wonder, T.S. Eliot wrote about?

“the unheard music hidden in the shrubbery”