Just in time for the winter holidays, the photo magazine Lenscratch put their new photo exhibition online. The theme is: SNOW. I submitted a photo, too, an image photographed through a kaleidoscope. It is now part of the exhibition pages, which feels like a virtual gift, to be part of this artistic gathering.
The exhibition is online at: Lenscratch/Snow, my photo is #20 on that page. If you scroll all the way down to the bottom, you arrive at the links to the other 2 photo pages.
This different time between years, the season of special dates: Christmas, New Year… it is special. For me, it also includes a third festive date: my birthday. The weather isn’t in festive mood, though: it’s mostly overcast and grey, yet with two sunny Christmas mornings, like a blue-sky-greetings.
On my birthday, I spent some time going through photos, and reflecting on the year. I felt it would be good for me to do some symbolic things and activities.
So I watched a Ted talk about time – it’s called „How to gain control of your free time“, by Laura Vanderkam. But it is touching a larger horizon, it’s main focus is „How to build the lives we want in the time we’ve got.“ Here’s the link: Ted Talk about Life / Time
And of course, the decemberreflections2017 are continuing. With skylines..
„Skyline… of a different kind: the morning sunrise view from here. simple, but different every day.“
In the afternoon, we went for a walk, and then I playfully painted some small paintings in aquarelle, going from rather concrete to abstract.
And reading poetry, I came across this powerful quote from Mary Oliver: „Tell me, what it is you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?“
The quote, it touched me, maybe because it fits so well with all the reflections2017. It brought me back to the digital drawings: some color for these overcast days.
Altogether, It made me think of the advice i once heard about timing and life balance:
look at your day, and see which elements are in it – is there work / time with others / time with your self / physical activity / a hobby / … It’s not so much about how many hours you do what, it’s about having a good combination of those different areas of life that are important.
From Skies and Time to… Glass.
Some months ago, my poet friend Rose Hunter contacted me, and asked if I could create a cover image for her new poetry book „Glass“, published by 5 Islands Press. There was a visual I once created based on an image Rose has taken – and luckily it all worked out, and the image now is a book cover!
From snow and sky and glass back to … snow. To round this winter holiday post up, here a story from my archives:
**
WoodTalk
It’s cold outside. It’s so cold outside that it’s even cold inside this house. Too cold for the old walls, the old windows, the old heating. But I guess this house has seen darker nights and colder days. It’s a very old house, survived two world wars, and it has its share of bruises and scars.
And tales to tell. So many people lived inside this house – mothers, fathers, sisters, daughters, grandchildren. So many people lived and slept here, talked and worked here, loved and dreamed here. Sometimes I think of them when I walk up and down the old wooden stairs that lead upstairs and downstairs, although I never met them. Like this morning, when I woke up early for no visible reason, wondering why I was so bright awake when it was so dark outside. When I decided to get up, cause I liked the idea of seeing the dawn, and didn’t feel like going back to sleep anyway.
So I wandered through the house while the world outside was still sleeping. Took a cup of tea upstairs with me, and sat there, watched the nightsky turning into a daysky. Listened to this old house, that never seems to sleep, where you always can hear some floor crackling, some door creaking, some heating moaning, as if the house was speaking with itself, like old people speak with themselves. Not talking loud, cause they already have the answers. You can be scared by it if you want to, but you also can enjoy this woodtalk.
It is a little bit like running through the woods alone. Another thing I did this morning, in the cold. Something that feels like a punishment if you are forced to do it. Something that feels like crystal-clear pleasure if you want to do it. The air so clear and cold that the sunlight seemed to freeze in pastel colours. I really felt like walking in a painting, with the soft snow under my feet sparkling like fresh painted colour, and the forest looking like a magic wood. With me being a part of this forest for some timeless minutes, a winter-fairy, a wood-runner. And the forest whispering to me in a hundred voices, whisteling, squeaking, rustling, cracking. And me wishing I could understand more of this woodtalk.
