On World Photography Day

I’m an amateur and today is World Photography Day.

I inherited my love of photography from my father. Hours spent in the basement darkroom taught me patience, persistence, practice (in not necessarily that order) and the wonder that comes from seeing an image emerge from its liquid bath. I try to take a picture or two (or sixteen) every day. It’s like a snapshot in time, capturing my moods, my perspective and a connection with the natural world; the world around me. It’s amazing to observe the ocean or the woods, my dog, or even interesting geometry in the things we walk past every day…even the same vantage point provides a new perspective each time you visit.

It’s a reminder that we live in an evolving, moving and living-breathing space.

Pictures capture the wry smiles and the veiled tears; the summer growth spurts, the holiday silliness and our “I can finally do this” moments. I love how ubiquitous images are today – there is truth to the saying, “a picture tells a thousand words.”

While we live in a world where we hang our shameless selves out there, biggifying and aggrandizing our humble existences, I think photography – with the shutter’s click – reminds us that we are individual historians, capturing and curating our life’s work for posterity. It reminds us to slow down, to pay attention to details and to sometimes put the camera down to just listen.

Today, I captured nature’s symmetry and a woman in a hat. Yesterday, it was ships in the harbour and a giant hibiscus. Photography enables us to be travellers in our own daily routines, and observers that discern amazing tidbits from the daily ritual.

   woman-beach

   

Bonus: dragonflies…

Cynicism on the 4th of July

This is a departure from International travel musings… but since it’s 4th of July – Independence Day in the US – and a gloomy, muggy one at that, I was thinking about what this day means to me. I’m conflicted.

I’ve stayed in the US my entire life. I’ve lived in the Northeast, but travelled through much of this country… the deserts and mountains, scrub prairie and wine country; national parks and those “only in America” bizarro attractions like the Corn Palace and Wall Drug, South of the Border and giant roadside animal statues… (though somehow I’ve missed the Pacific Northwest) (an aside: read my thoughts on “where we stay“)

I am a citizen of a country founded by immigrants, whose “personality” has evolved to something like arrogance towards (and foisted upon) the rest of the world. Of that I’m a little embarrassed. Though I am grateful to live in a place where, on any given day, I can walk freely down the street dressed for the weather. I live in a land where I have the opportunity to learn. The permission to drive. The freedom to practice yoga, connect with friends on Facebook and vote (!), without interference from my government. I have clean water, plentiful food, access to hospitals (despite the drama around our healthcare system) and a safe place to sleep at night. These are all things of first-world privilege.

But what if it weren’t “one nation under god”? What if it were one nation, under an amazing, awe-inspiring, interconnected and interdependent universe… would that enable people to see things around us (and interact with others) in a different light? Would it curtail domestic terrorism? Would haters still hate?

Humans invented this concept of god thousands of years ago to make some semblance of the universal goings-on around them. They foraged, feuded and, likely, fornicated their way to modern civilisation. Multiple nations, under an all-encompassing universe.

Fast-forward two or five thousand years, and we’ve divided, conquered and multiplied… We ventured east, north, south and eventually discovered the west. So here we are, living now in one nation, under a domineering right-wing Christian political influence, fairly divisible (depending, potentially, on who’s getting paid to speak loudest), with some semblance of liberty (unless you tread too far to the right or left) and a birthright expectation of justice for all.

Happy 4th of July from a semi-cynical, grateful (but not necessarily always proud to be) American.