More Thoughts on Audience

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We certainly don't get this sort of light show every evening, but we get our share. Still, each one fills me with awe and gratitude.

Meanwhile when I am not gawking at sunsets or sunrises, admiring swooping hawks, or laughing at ground squirrels (so long as they aren't eating my geraniums!), I digest and adjust. Along with settling in physically, I am still very much in a gathering mode—reading, looking, finally taking a few more pictures, and processing more ideas than photos. For one thing, I am chewing on a number of topics that have been much discussed recently by the bloggers that I follow. For example, several whose thinking has long inspired me are talking lately about audience—a topic that has long been fascinating for me.

From the time that I first picked up The Husband's new then, but now defunct Canon A70, I was clear about the attraction of photography. I had no intention of beginning, so late in life, a new career, nor did I imagine that I would burst on the art scene and create a sensation. Primarily making images was a tool for dealing with some old hurts and losses that had barely faded with time. I had no idea how effective making images would be in that healing role, much less what lay ahead on my journey. Ultimately, my still budding relationship with a small parade of cameras has begun to play an ever-increasing part in answering questions about still another me and who that is.

If I begin to fret about whether others will find meaning in my photographs or whether they will approve, I am almost instantly paralyzed. This is an exact parallel to acting (I am convinced that it holds true for any creative endeavor). Indeed, it holds true in the everyday business of relating to other human beings. We all know people who are so busy trying to appear confident, smart, and witty that whoever they may actually be is smothered by the phoniness and the desperate need to be admired. They are so busy trying to please their audience they can't simply be.

It was a struggle with most actors I taught to convince them that during execution it was only by letting go of the need to please that could they could be freed to thrill, delight, and entertain their audience. When we are consumed by the need for approval, that becomes the intention and the focus. Then, there is nothing to be said other than, "Look at me, I desperately want to please. Like me; please, please like me." While any artist must hone the basics of craft, inspiration and creativity do not succumb to commands and needs. Creativity flourishes only when we risk yawns of disinterest, even outright rejection.

Of course, I am keen to improve my skills, so I may make images that better capture what I saw. After all, as so many others have already pointed out, I may end up with an audience of one: me. Since that is the only audience I can be certain will "show up for the show", its the audience I had best connect with.

By the way, I don't see that my claiming I aim first and foremost to be clear in communicating what I saw and doing so in a way that delights me, negates in any way the satisfaction that comes in pleasing others along the way. I know some want to make this an either/or situation. In other words, you are dishonest if you claim to create for yourself, while also making your work public and taking enjoyment from knowing that others take pleasure in it as well. I don't see the conflict. For me, it is a simple fact and quite logical that I take the photos first for me. If I am not happy with them, I have failed in my intention. When the result pleases me, I feel the effort was well spent. Yet, there is an eager embrace of a further bonus, when the work connects with another person. It isn't a required validation, but more of a buzz that comes from having sent out a signal and then getting back a signal from a kindred spirit. It's a little like that satisfaction that comes from "Did you see that?!" "Yes, I saw it too. Wow."

Pink Petaled Therapy

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I needed the company of flowers today. Not only that, I needed to stare at them and spend time with a couple of photos of them. Welcome to my therapy session.

An Evening Treat

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Tonight was a treat. We took off for an hour and a half and wandered around down by Cub Lake, enjoying the swallows, ducks, dragonflies, horseback riders, dogs, and kids along with a wonderful sunset. Not bad for one evening. Since this is one of those areas that also warrants an early morning outing, I am delighted that it is so close to our house. In fact, we can see our house from the lake—which is actually more of a pond, but don't tell anyone here I said that.

I certainly hope you are clicking on the link for the larger images. These thumbnails on Blogspot are pretty sad.

Clocks, Calendars, and Such

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There is no way anyone can convince me that the recent interruption in my posts lasted only sixteen days ago. No way. I wandered in the wilderness for at least six months.

Funny, isn't it, that we think we have this time-measuring business all worked out? After all, we have accurate-to-the-millisecond watches and clocks; we have calendars and books full of information on the rotation of our planet not to mention all the amassed knowledge on the history of measuring time. Still, in spite of all that data, we understand so little about how and why we experience time in the various ways we do. (There are some experts who at least think they know something about the subject—I have read a little on the topic.) Still, that information isn't part of our everyday lives the way clocks, calendars and such are. After all, a school child understands the basics of reading a calendar and telling the time of day. And, most societies have an abundance of time-measuring devices that are understood even by the young. On the other hand, theories about the how and why that explain the elasticity of time are not part of our basic vocabulary.

Enough mulling of riddles, the point is that the three weeks seemed to be an eternity and the wilderness I wandered in was dark, thorny, and bumpy. Along the way, I seemed to be constantly collecting psychological bumps, scrapes, and bruises. Finally, I am enjoying the brightness out here and looking forward more than ever to getting my clock and my calendar all tuned up and functioning normally.

Outside My Window Bear Valley Edition

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I haven't been getting out and about much, except on errands, and what with all the computer confusion, I haven't been taking many photos. This view outside the back of the house never ceases to delight me. I expect I will amass quite a collection depicting this scene.

This morning we watched a coyote this side of that fence as he watched a bicyclist on the trail that follows the edge of our property—it's used mostly by horseback riders. Last week, as I did the kitchen clean-up, I watched a doe graze inches from our back patio. Periodically she looked up to see if I had moved, but she took her time cleaning the area. Betty, the hawk along with a young (we think) falcon keep the sky-view interesting, clouds or not. Then, of course there are all the other birds that dare to risk becoming hawk or falcon lunch along with the ground squirrels and moles.

Yesterday, we stepped outside the front door to check some measurements (plans for fencing pasture) and The Husband spotted, on the door jamb, a Praying Mantis that had definitely been eating his Wheaties. I have never seen one so large—his body was three-and-a-half to four inches long. He was the color of straw—perfect camouflage for all the grass this time of year. Unfortunately, this fellow had encountered a nasty spider web and was crippled. The husband caught him (it wasn't terribly difficult due to the insect's shackles), put him down on the porch, and we went to work cleaning him up. It sounds crazy, but even though he seemed quite panicked when we started, he appeared to calm as we freed him. Perhaps he had only gone into shock, but at any rate he was helpfully still. At one point, he stood as patiently as a well-trained horse waiting for the farrier to do his work—one long spindly leg up high in the air—while The Husband separated the stubborn, sticky strands of the web. Eventually, he was free and we turned him loose in the pasture to take his chances.

Overall. my world is quite different what with new vistas, more critters than ever and a completely different rhythm. This is what I have only experienced in the past as an interlude while on vacation. There are parts of my being that still struggle with the lostness. Still, I know it is only a matter of time.

A Surprise a Day Keeps Boredom at Bay

When it comes to photos for today, I got nothing . Although I essentially had nothing three days, I ignored reality. Today, I am going to face the fact that I haven't had time to process anything and go plain-jane.

All right, back in Bear Valley for four or five days and are you ready for even more good/bad-for-me news? It turns out that the underlying problem with my computer was the monitor. Boy, do I feel stupid. Good thing I never claimed to be technologically inclined. Since the surprising healing that took place a few days ago (and absolutely no lost data, thank goodness), the computer had failed to boot several times. Thus on the day of our departure for the regular commute to Los Angeles, I found myself chatting with yet another Dell employee. It turns out that the computer was booting, but all I was seeing was a black screen. Certainly, this may just mean a bad cable and a relatively simple fix, but this is a very old monitor and we know they don't last forever. Obviously, the bad news is that a new monitor isn't in the current budget—not by a country mile. Everyone can surely guess that the good news is a newer, bigger and better monitor. Life just keeps getting more and more innerestin'.

In the meantime as soon as I got back up and running, I reviewed what data I have on my C drive and noted with relief that I had stuck to my guns and was keeping pretty much zero data there. With all the moving mess, I had feared that I might have slipped up with my backups toward the end, but that wasn't true. Still, what I had dreaded most of all was the long, tedious hours it takes to set up a computer what with installing the system and the programs, then digging out the endless stacks of programs, updates and those miles of serial numbers not to mention the interminable online updates, drivers, etc. Sometimes I think one of the nicest things about having piles of money (actually, I can think of a million fun things about having piles of money) is that I wouldn't bother with updating programs. I would just buy the new program complete. That would make re-installation of a system a breeze. But, wait. If I had stacks of money, I wouldn't have to do any of those things myself. I think it's obvious that I haven't had enough sleep, yet.

One Toe in the Water

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I have a computer! The real wonder is that apparently I didn't lose any data. After finally getting the system set up yesterday, (until then, I had been too discouraged to get into it) I held my breath and called Dell. I was ready to get the official word on my chances of salavaging what little data I keep on my C drive and dodging the nightmare of restoring all programs (each with its multiple updates), as well as all the drivers and devices. While the first person I contacted before the moving van arrived had been extremely pessimistic and this second one was not much more hopeful, I felt strong enough to face the ordeal and we plunged into the process. The woman I spoke to was patient, thorough, and personable, but we flailed about a bit without getting anywhere, then suddenly we (as it seemed to me) stumbled into a menu and I think with a mind all its own a clean-up process lurched into full gear. Just between you and me, the gal from Dell seemed as surprised as I that when the scrubbing ended rather than having a blank drive I had a restored system. Whoopee! Ladies and gentlemen, one small step toward normalcy.

Of course since I had only been using CS3 for a few weeks and I was working on newly installed external drives with a filing protocol in transition, I still feel a bit lost and tentative. Still, I finally see a glimmer of light at the end of what seemed an interminable tunnel.

Struggling to Make a Come Back

I'm making an effort, folks. Promise. But, I'm either so exhausted that stringing a sentence together is beyond me, or I'm so flustered by a dead end type situation that, believe me, you don't want to hear what I'm thinking. My computer sits gathering dust, and I borrow The Husband's to read a little now and then. I have seen several fascinating posts that I want to come back to and chew on when my brain is once again functional. But, that's the extent of my contact with the world. Eventually, I will feel strong enough to tackle the hours and hours it will take to restore my computer. But, right now the thought makes my head hurt.

This much I have learned. This moving stuff is for youngns. (That's a whole topic on its own) I have aches in places I didn't know I had places. Everything is lost somewhere and the closer we get to making that last trip to clean up the house in Los Angeles, the more I dread the day. This nasty little feeling keeps popping up that maybe renting is not such a bad idea. That means that some day, maybe.... Obviously, in a few weeks I will wonder why I ever entertained such a ridiculous thought. Still, after a point, exhaustion plays tricks with your mind. Furthermore, while I bemoan my fatigue (insert sound of very tiny violin here), my heart is heavy for a couple of friends who are going through some genuinely tough times and deserve more attention and care than I am offering.

Now, I have a few days before our next trip back down there. Yesterday I imitated a vegetable after thinking the night before that I had begun a case of flu. It appears that the symptoms were just my body telling me to stop and take a breath. Today, I woke feeling almost human for the first time in a couple of weeks. Moving day was, of course, hellacious. The husband had been forewarned that I would cry all day the day we moved. (Knock it off, you guys. I heard those groans. Some women do that sort of thing.) It turned out I was too tired to cry and I am still waiting for that day when I can just curl up and bawl for hours over my plants, my trees, my familiar nest. Eventually, this new place will be home. Just not yet.

Until Later

I am totally out of touch for few days—we are pulling the plug on the last computer.

Pooped and Preoccupied

Ya'll talk amongst yourselves. Because, I have started three or four posts that I could never seem to finish, I will give up and wait until I catch my breath. In addition to the moving chaos, we have to keep the place ready for showings of course. That keeps things interesting. I suppose I should be grateful. If not for the neatness enforced on us, I fear we would be living in a total mess. Does anyone know the line from an old Bette Davis film, where she enters a house and says, with her customary flair, "What a dump!" I never saw the film, but saw a clip once in a show about her and that stuck in my mind. Well, without the pressure of showings and wanting very much to sell, I suspect our place, by now, would qualify for Bette's description.

We are in the final stages of moving and doing it in a crazy way. (Hey, what else?) We are taking loads up to Bear Valley on a weekly basis. The trips accomplish two things. We have a huge percentage of our smaller stuff up there already and we are even starting to do a little unpacking. Besides, we need to go each week to water our young struggling trees. A further bonus is that this routine gives The Husband an opportunity to check on the horses (they are already up there boarding for this transition period.)

I'm hoping to have a quiet day soon, but not banking on it. Anyway, this won't last forever. At least, I hope not. Egads! What a horrifying prospect.