The Inner Path of Photography

We yearn for the taste of the sacred…and through our cameras discover it, the world, and ourselves.

Tag: Heidi Straube – Inner Path Photography

“It’s more like I’m having an experience than making a picture.” -Cy Twombly

From the New York Times obituary upon the death of Cy Twombly, July 5, 2011:

“In the only written statement that Mr. Twombly ever made about his work, a short essay in an Italian art journal in 1957, he tried to make clear that his intentions were not subversive but elementally human.

Each line he made, he said, was “the actual experience” of making the line, adding: “It does not illustrate. It is the sensation of its own realization.” Years later he described this more plainly. “It’s more like I’m having an experience than making a picture.”

The process stood in stark contrast to the detached, effete image that often clung to Mr. Twombly. After completing a work, in a kind of ecstatic state, it was as if the painting existed and he barely did anymore: “I usually have to go to bed for a couple of days.”

Amen. Exactly.

RIP,  Cy. I’ll miss you.

(Italics  mine)

(Full article here)

“Forgetting”

How long can we stay
at the top of the mountain
seeing all around
in a glorious manner

I vow to hold that wonder
the  joy of discovery
beauty
the world

We are always at the top
of the mountain

We just forget

 

“Must We Be Consistent?”

“Sunset Beach Play,” Galveston, Texas © 2010 Heidi Straube


“The worst thing we can do it to plan a conversation;
to decide ahead of time where it will go and what will be said.”
– David Bowie


I was looking for some different images to print for my walls this weekend, and came across a whole series that I had done in Galveston last year and not paid much attention to. The image you see above is one of them. I like it!

And now remember why I printed it once, showed it to a couple of people, and then put it in a box.

At the time, it wasn’t enough like the images I’m really fond of (see my book, “I Dream of Galveston”).While the book images are soft and foggy, the images in this new series were crisper, more finely focused. Sorry, no fog.

I felt the magic when shooting, but after printing, even though I still felt they were “me,” I discounted them, felt they didn’t “fit.”

Fit with what? My vision of what my work was, who I was as a photographer, a kind of image that had become my “identity.”

But what is our “identity”? The same kind of image, over and over?
Or an exploration of who we are and how we see the world, and a wonderful dance of finding the many ways to express it?

I think we may sometimes confuse consistency of truth with consistency of image.

In photography and in our lives, we make the mistake of thinking that if things continue to look the same, we’re good, we’re doing it right.

We look at a body of work; we look back at our lives. And as we reflect on what we consider the good and the bad (always judging, can we stop that?), we look at the outer results. Did I achieve what I intended? Is my work consistent?

Instead, perhaps we could soften our vision, and in the mode of consistency, ask if we were true to our values and sensibilities. Because consistently living our truth, both artistically and in living a life, the outer results don’t always look the same. They don’t necessarily follow a predictable pattern.

And while sometimes uncomfortable, that’s a good thing. It challenges us to stretch, use all facets of our being, discover exciting possibilities, and ultimately create amazing art, relationships, and lives.

After having some time away from my crisper images, as well as the book images, I can now see that the new series is still very much “me,” me expanding on a theme.

Actually, it expresses a more personally expansive sensibility.

While I had cropped the earlier images and printed them small (I wanted more focus on the people, less sand, and an intimate quietness), these more current images are printed full frame, large, celebrating the beautiful vastness of the beach, waves, and sky, and the people who are happily a part of that.

We are all of the images that we shoot….the foggy ones, the crisp ones, the people, the places…All reflect who we are.

Must we be consistent?

Yes.

Consistent in our sensibility, the truth of our vision, and the expression of our values…in our art and in our lives.

Are You Feeding Your Inspiration?

“Self-Portrait: Artist at Play“, Heidi Straube, © 2011


“It’s marvelous, marvelous! Nothing will ever be as much fun.
I’m going to photograph everything, everything!”

(Jacques-Henri Lartigue –  after taking his first photograph, age six)

 

Yesterday I participated in a street painting workshop.
It was wonderful.

Three hours on a Saturday morning on a beautiful day in Houston. Eighty degrees, clear blue skies, coffee and kolaches.  Laughing and creating with my friend, enjoying being in the space of other people who were creating too, learning something new.

Later in the afternoon, I showed a picture of my “painting” to another friend.
He laughed, saying “It looks just like a kid’s picture!”

And I laughed too.  “I know, isn’t it great?”

I felt like a kid. I had had no idea what I was doing, enjoyed the process, didn’t judge the outcome…and it was totally freeing.

If you are doing the same thing every day (whether in your creative work or your life) and wondering what happened to your inspiration, try something new. Change up the routine, even if it’s going to a different place for coffee before work, listening to a new radio station on the internet, or wearing a color you don’t usually wear.

If you are feeling blocked, in the dead zone, without creative ideas or enthusiasm for life, claim and deepen your inner silence. Then also look to outside sources to nourish your soul.

We often live our lives in the same way, with the same people, and no new perspectives, support, or learning. And then we expect “inspiration” to come when we call.

Perhaps inspiration is right not to show up on command. If you were ignored, fed little, and expected to be there no matter what, would you keep on showing up?

There are many ways to feed your inspiration, and actually, what nurtures you may be totally different from someone else.

This week I realized that I needed a new inspiration “shot,” and it wasn’t going to come from my usual friends and colleagues sources. It was time to call on my outer spirit guides!

Curiosity, hunger for learning, and comradeship with kindred spirits are some of the things that feed my inspiration. So I (among other things):

* Watched a fantastic DVD, “Inspirations” by Michael Apted – Interviews with creative people talking about their creative process, work, and lives

* Looked at and read “Seasons of Light” by photographer Peter Brown, a wonderful book of images and writing

* Went to a talk at the Museum of Fine Arts Houston about Istanbul in the 16th century, learning more about Islamic art and how the miniatures reflected the culture, remembering the special time I had in Istanbul last spring, and meeting some new like-minded travelers and art lovers.

* Discovered a new photography show at the MFAH I had been unaware of, images from Heinrich Kuhn, filled with my favorite kind of photography.

* Dropped by to see some friends renovating a building, appreciating their vision and skills in creating beauty and function in a physical architectural form.

Swimming, a great cafe, and people I love enhanced the experience.

What nurtures your inspiration? What have you been neglecting?

Be good to yourself and let other sources feed you. Whether they’re new sources or old sources, make sure they are deliberate sources that you know make you alive.

Walk away from the usual, if even for an hour.

Feed and nurture your inspiration.


(“Heidi, first street painting,” Cameron Payne, © 2011)

Street Painting Workshop, taught by Cecilia Linayao Bio, sponsored by Via Colori, funded by Center for Speech and Hearing, Houston.