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| 100-year-old Live Oaks at Avery Island, Louisiana © Rad A. Drew |
Have you ever had the feeling that the universe is trying to
tell you something, but you’re just not listening? This past month I had a
couple of things, seemingly independent occurrences, that I now believe are
connected and conspiring to teach me a lesson.
The first of these “events” occurred about a month ago, when
I stumbled on a book by Torsten Andreas Hoffman, titled, Photography as Meditation (which I highly recommend, by the way). Now, as
someone who has been both a photographer and one who’s practiced meditation on
and off since college, the book really caught my attention.
In it, Hoffman makes a connection between meditation and
photography, and suggests that both are either intended to or by their nature,
require you to be in the present moment. Meditation can be described as the practice
of quieting the mind, while photography, in the doing of it, causes us to focus
somewhat narrowly on the subject we’re shooting and in many ways helps us end
up in that same place of quietude.
On a recent trip to Louisiana, the second “event” occurred.
Nancy and I went to Lafayette, Louisiana; she for a three-day metalsmith workshop and I
to scout for an upcoming photo tour in and about New Orleans. While she was in
her workshop, I was out exploring the marshes, swamps, and bayou country of
southwest Louisiana.
The first day I went out I found that I was chasing an image. I couldn't drop Nancy at her workshop quick enough. I wanted to be on my way. There were pixels waiting to be wrangled. I was hell bent on getting a shot of a shrimp boat, coming in after a long day in the Gulf. I don’t know why; blame it on Forrest Gump, I guess! I wanted that image. I chased that image. I drove to the areas where the shrimp boats should be coming in and I was either too early or too late. I’d learn from a local fisherman that if I just went to this place or that place, I’d be sure to find what I was looking for. I looked and I chased and I ran.
The first day I went out I found that I was chasing an image. I couldn't drop Nancy at her workshop quick enough. I wanted to be on my way. There were pixels waiting to be wrangled. I was hell bent on getting a shot of a shrimp boat, coming in after a long day in the Gulf. I don’t know why; blame it on Forrest Gump, I guess! I wanted that image. I chased that image. I drove to the areas where the shrimp boats should be coming in and I was either too early or too late. I’d learn from a local fisherman that if I just went to this place or that place, I’d be sure to find what I was looking for. I looked and I chased and I ran.
What I found at the end of this first day is that I had
burned up a lot of road but I’d taken very few photos, in spite of the fact that
I was in some of the most beautiful country I’d ever seen. I had spent my
entire day trying to be somewhere else and in so doing, I failed to be in the
present moment and aware of the beauty and extraordinary photo opportunities
all around me. Sometimes that adage, “Wherever you go, there you are” just
isn’t true. I went but I wasn’t there.
That evening I began to reflect on my day’s experience. As I
did, it occurred to me that the lesson that began the day I found the book Photography
as Meditation, had continued with my day’s chaotic experience. I was being
reminded to be still, to watch, to listen, and to feel; to be present; to clear
my mind of the clutter of wanting and desiring, and to be still
to receive all that was around me. I thought about Hoffman's book and began to realize that this is what he is talking about: this state of quite and receptivity is the place from which creativity flows.
The next day, I set out with a different mindset. I thought
about the role of breathing in meditation. One form of meditation is to be
still and simply focus on one’s breath as it goes in and out. I began my day
being very aware of my breath. I decided on a direction to go, rather than on a
destination. While heading in that direction, I stopped, I walked, I ate, I met
people – locals and visitors, both – and I had a memorable time. I photographed
much more and I found that I was going with the flow of my day more than I was
trying to force it to be something other than what it was. I immersed myself in
the marsh, I walked under 100-year-old live oak trees, and I saw and photographed
birds I’d never seen before, and, without effort, I found myself at the harbor
as shrimpers were unloading their catch at sunset.
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| Thistle, Cameron National Wildlife Refuge, Southwestern Louisiana © Rad A. Drew |
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| Boat-Tailed Grackle, Cameron National Wildlife Refuge © Rad A. Drew |
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| Blue-Winged Teal, Cameron National Wildlife Refuge © Rad A. Drew |
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| Black-Necked Stilt, Cameron National Wildlife Refuge © Rad A. Drew |
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| Louisiana Marsh © Rad A. Drew |
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| Miss Shirley, Cameron, LA © Rad A. Drew |
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| Woolly Bugger Shrimp Boat, Cameron, LA |
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| Jennifer Kay, Cameron, LA © Rad A. Drew |