studio - behind the scenes
Looking forward : Looking back
Today my father would have been 97. Looking back, here he is in about 1970 with Rob at the ranch that he bought east of Brooks Alberta. Looking forward, the book I have written about him and his ranch has found a publisher! I spent the last year and a half writing an intertwined memoir of my French father, of the land he ranched in the drylands of Alberta from 1969 to 1999, and my reflection on our changing relationships with the land, with the peoples who came before us, and with non-human life. While I call my work creative non-fiction, it is a mix of essay, poetry, images, even a bit of fiction. I had long wanted to capture the strange beauty of prairie for those not familiar with it, especially now, at a time of disappearing family ranches and of Reconciliation with First Nations. As a counterpoint I write about my father’s unlikely path from a small town in the Vosges Mountains of Alsace to ranching in Alberta. The life, the writing, the publishing – equally celebration and journey!
Contemplate: are you your sadness?
Another look at contemplative photography: world as collage. Is this image anything more than light and shadow, shapes and colours? Is this singular image ever likely to be recaptured as it appears here? Every day the sun will be higher in the sky, the shadows cast on a different part of the wall, the vegetation in another stage of springing forth, next year on the same day at the same time it might rain or snow. This wall has disappeared. And you, this moment, will disappear into the next moment. What you feel now can vapourize into the nowness of whatever walls surround you, those disappearing walls.
Light changes everything
Daylight Savings Time! I’m not going to ask the all-knowing what we are saving daylight from. The whole thing is another of humanity’s absurd attempts to control the disinterested natural world. Light was the focus of this week’s contemplative photography study; how light changes that disinterested world and and our perception of it; how we can change our own clouded thinking about what is beautiful. Change was the focus of my writing this week, as I polished a poem to submit to Hill Spirits VI, the Northumberland Festival of the Arts biennial anthology of writing and art. Change is the theme this year, a topic at once so narrow and so broad that it too impels you to change your thinking, to come up with what’s fresh!
These Fridays
These Fridays, late winter, early spring, I am taking a Miksang Photography course with John McQuade called Child of Illusion. The title refers to the mind training slogan, ‘post-meditation be a child of illusion’, and reminds you to look at the world as a child would. The photograph is an example of Colour as Colour, no concepts, no judgement.
This particular Friday was art salon, and I was joined by Vicky, who brought boxes of treats. The photograph is an example of Carbs as Carbs. No judgement??
A Flash Poem
I pray my hands together pointing up into the godless silence like an arrow the arrow I just yanked from my own ribs I'm not impenetrable
This poem arose from a poetry workshop. The exercise involved a mind map, and, well, arrows! February is the longest shortest month of the year and I seem to do a lot of staring. So, it’s good to remember that a poem can come together in a flash, fast. The workshop was part of the 2022 biennial Northumberland Festival of the Arts, and 2024 is another Festival Year!
How to avoid those rejection letters….
…why, don’t submit your manuscript, of course! Divert yourself, as I am, by working on prototype illustrations. This one will be a cattle drive, rendered in found fabrics and bought beads. My memoir about my father and his ranch is essentially complete and will be sent out into the world this month. While I wordlessly wait for replies, there are three wordless creations on the drawing board.