Let's Reframe: By Degrees

We Are Not Alone

4/30/2020

4 Comments

 
Picture
A place to share a story, AVA Gallery, Lebanon, NH Photo by ERSwett
Earlier
today I shared
my story in an empty
AVA studio with my work,
Casey Carpenter and his cameras.
It was raining & cold, but the light was lovely
& the space welcoming, as always.
I am here, I thought, in
​community.
At last.
Picture
A mix of this and that in community Photo by ERSwett
The
day began
with a 6am Zoom
call with Natalie Isaacs,
the founder of 1 Million Women.
With 1000 people from around the
globe I joined the conversation. We shared
joy in each other's company & inspired each other
to feel the collective power of our individual
actions. It was the perfect way to
close out Earth Month
​2020,
Picture
Some of what we accomplished this month! Screenshot from Ecochallenge.org
as was
this summary
of actions completed
by the Upper Valley Climate
Action 2020 team in this year's Earth
Day Ecochallenge
. 34 of us showed up and
did a bunch of cool stuff. We were among more than
10,000 people & were 1 of 818 teams. Yay us! But now I'm
struggling with a sense of inadequacy I've felt all
month, a feeling that emerged, I think,
because I was being
measured.
Picture
Textures, Colors & Shapes Photo by ERSwett
What
am I to do,
I wonder, with the
joy of being in community
making a difference for people &
the planet and the simultaneous strange
anxiety that that participation creates? For me,
it means it's time to go to the compost,
and see if, once again, it can
help me make sense
of our ​world.
Picture
Earth Day 2020 Snow on the Compost Photo by ERSwett
On Earth
Day it was fresh
​snow & a few days later
it was a bunch of flying insects
among the shredded COVID-19 behavior
guidelines sent by our President. Hot and cold;
Inspired & anxious. Is that ​what I will
remember about Earth
Month 2020? 
Picture
Insects having a feast Photo by ERSwett
Measurable
data, whether from
an ecochallenge or a global
health crisis, is real & understandable.
When it comes to climate, I feel good that I have
done something to increase biodiversity or decrease waste;
​When it comes to health, I feel proud that I have
helped flatten the curve. But it feels like
that objectivity actually denies
me the visceral realities
of ​being human...
Picture
Silk scraps from my mother-in-law's hidden stash Photo by ERSwett
...like ​the
joy of arranging
silky colorful fabrics into
a 'collage' or the deliciousness
of these treats from Umpleby's, where
I collected 
compost earlier today
& purchased this weekly
"Stay-At-Home"
​'pick-me-up.'
Picture
Truffles & Russian Teacakes from Umpleby's in Hanover, NH Photo by ERSwett
As I ​ate
these treats, I reflected
on this collective need to 'be
counted,' whether in the economy, in an
Ecochallenge, or in this global crisis. Might this
slowing down invite us to think more deeply about
this connection between individuals and
the collective, whether on
​Zoom or in our
​kitchens?
Picture
Sarah & Chanler make dinner Photo by ERSwett
And in
the process, might
we also consider 
the differences
between what is actually counted and what
actually matters? If I counted everything that mattered,
I would no longer be living - - I would be
a counter, not a person. It would
be weird.
Picture
The first chives Photo by ERSwett
I fumbled
my way through the
EcoChallenge, just as I feel like
I am fumbling through this COVID-19 
situation. Flexibility and forgiveness of self and
others seem vital, especially when dealing with variable
weather and emotional fluctuations during a global pandemic!
But as the story I told this morning reveals (you'll
have to stay tuned for the actual video),
powerful things happen when
we honor moments of
tension & discord.
Picture
More rain and cold Photo by ERSwett
I'm
coming to 
understand not just
in my head, but deep in my
heart, that reconciliation with self in
relation to climate is possible, but only when in
community, whether that community is a bunch of plants
or garbage ​or really cool people at a place like AVA.
To learn more about this cool storytelling
stuff, check out Casey Carpenter's
work
and stay tuned for
whatever comes
​next.
Picture
Selfie at AVA April 30, 2020
Please
​be vigilant,
stay safe & be
well. You and I are
not alone and we are
definitely in this
​together.
4 Comments

Love Letter to People & The Planet

4/22/2020

6 Comments

 
Picture
Sunrise & Seguin, 2018 Photo by ERSwett
The sun
rises and sets,
oblivious to us & our
​endless admiration. So today ​we
express gratitude to and honor 
that sun
and all 
that makes our lives possible, including
the food 
we eat & the fibers we wear. The
sun & the earth do not have a say
however, and must take
whatever we
give.
Picture
The Golden Hour, 2012 Photo by ERSwett
Roads,
for example,
curve in relation to the
topography, but still there are
roads. We impose again and again.
But from a hot air balloon on this particular
morning, in this ​particular place,
it was a stunning,
Picture
Anniversary Hot Air Balloon Ride, 2005 Photo by ERSwett
as are
the gardens
that emerge in old
mines & around old homes.
The shapes and colors captivate &
each photograph honors the play of light
on the textures & forms that we
create. But these scenes 
are all about us &
​the imposition
of our will.
Picture
Butchart Gardens, Victoria BC Photo by ERSwett, 2011
Picture
Kew Gardens & Chihuly, May 2019 Photo by ERSwett
This
love letter is
to people & the planet
because Earth Day is about our
relationship. For me, it celebrates those
quiet places where I find and nurture peace,
not alone in the wild, but in domestic places, like
in an intimate garden at home where
​I try to be in 
balance with
the land on which
​I live.
Picture
Lilacs, 2010 Photo by ERSwett
Are these
solar panels, for
example, a blight on the
landscape, or a work of modern
art? As a photographer, it's all about the
relationship between light, form and function.
As for me, it turns out I am happiest celebrating the
natural world when in close proximity to
structures of all kinds that allow
us to live. I am, I guess,
a domesticated
​naturalist.
Picture
Solarscape, 2015 Photo by ERSwett
I
admire
how light & the
sun generate power in
​panels & reflections
on windshields.
Picture
Windows & Windshields, 2016 Photo by ERSwett
I love
how that same
sun sets on the ocean,
creating reflections on water,
food for animals &
enjoyment
​for us.

Picture
Mexico, 2016 Photo by ERSwett
My
pleasure
in 
and gratitude
for the natural world are
immense. And in the fifty years
since we first named a day in honor of the
​earth we humans have learned and accomplished
a lot. We pay attention to air & water quality
& we make time to reflect on our
dynamic relationship...
most of the
​time.
Picture
Galapagos Islands, 2011 Photo by ERSwett
Cheers!
Picture
Gram's Cool Purse, 2014 Photo by ERSwett
I love
how there
are bags decorated
with flowers that become
gifts from generation to generation
and I love that we can travel to far away
places to buy intricate textiles for
our children to use & enjoy
for generations to
come.
Picture
Textiles in Ecuador, 2011 Photo by ERSwett
The
fibers, dyes,
and designs on table
runners & bags come directly
from the magical interplay of sunlight
and the earth. It's stunning
and I ​love the
​all of it. 
Picture
The Herb Garden, 2018 Photo by ERSwett
So even
though it snowed

this morning, later today,
I'll be in my  protected and nurturing
herb garden planting some rhubarb, most
of which we will eat and some of
which 
may become a
​work of art.
Picture
Rhubarb, 2017 Photo by ERSwett
When
I look at this
rhubarb in the compost,
I see the playful and colorful action
of the discarded stems on the surface & the
discolored coffee filters & mildewed orange rind hidden
behind. 50 years of celebrating the earth & I think I, like many, 
continue to struggle to both enjoy the beauty of what we
see while also embracing & actively working
with the mess we have created just
below the surface.
Picture
Funny Guy at the Lebanon Landfill, Earth Day 2020 Photo by ERSwett
And
when at the
Lebanon Landfill this
morning, this funny little guy
seemed to say "Happy Earth Day, Lyn.
I'm in good hands here. These people know what
they are doing. And when they burry  me, I'll still be here
50 years from now."  There he was, sticking out
of the molded mountain of waste
on which I stood, ensuring
that I not forget.

Picture
Rhubarb & Pea Pods, 2019 Photo by ERSwett
At the
end of the day,
the sun will set, and
the light and energy that gave
me life will move on, whether I am
here or not. I can, however, celebrate the
beauty that surrounds us while also
honoring the true impact
of my life.
Picture
Sunset over Vermont Photo by ERSwett
6 Comments

Magical Moments

4/19/2020

2 Comments

 
Picture
A 20th Birthday Hug, Photo by ERSwett
It was a
magical moment
when I gave birth to my
son 20 years ago on April 16th
and to my daughter, just after 9/11 less than
two years later. Witnessing this hug
was a magical moment of
a different kind, but
heartwarming
as well.
Picture
Pomegranates, 2015 18" x 18" Photo by ERSwett Available at The Vermont Center for Photography
This past
week I reflected
on other times during the
past 20 years when I have felt that
same powerful & loving energy. Who knew I
would end up stalling on my Compost Compositions,
which I first 'discovered' in 2015 with these pomegranates
and apple peels? It's cool that like my children, the
magic continues. There is something
going on in that pile that I
can not contain.

Picture
Apple Pie, 2015 18" x 18" Photo by ERSwett Available at The Vermont Center for Photography
It's a life
force brewing
within each image that
is, for me, almost as powerful
as being a mother. Like a child who
becomes an adult before your eyes, these
Compost Compositions are snapshots, moments
of beauty, which, like that hug, are part of
a longer and lasting narrative, but
which are fleeting
​as well.
Picture
Grapefruit & Snow, 2019 24" x 24" Photo by ERSwett Available at The Vermont Center for Photography
Just as
each piece
of discarded fruit
or vegetable scrap called
to me, saying "pay attention, I've
got a story too," inspiring me to create
these images in the first place, it feels as if
these Compost Compositions are singing out to
me now, saying "get me out there, into the world, please.
We want to share our magic with others." These 
first three pieces are calling from The Vermont
Center for Photography
in Brattleboro,
where they are trapped, unable
to be experienced in
person.
Picture
Mixed Carbon, 2019 30" x 30" Photo by ERSwett, Available from the photographer
Other
pieces, like
Mixed Carbon, hide
in my studio, bringing calm
and delight, but calling ​out for a wider
​audience. Or, my first ​Dried Flowers, from 2017,
are part of a set of greeting cards also wanting to share
their energy - - The cards are calling out "please
write letters, keep connections between
people going, & oh, by they way,
the US Postal Service
needs us!"
Picture
Dried Flowers, 2017 Photo by ERSwett Cards and 8"x8" Canvas print available online
Over the
years, I have learned
to listen to my children & am
grateful for their guidance, like when they
unknowingly inspired me to finally seek help for my
lifelong anxiety or when they encouraged
me to actually sell my photographs.
So now, I am listening to
them & my work.
Picture
Watermelon & 2 Apples, 2018 Photo by ERSwett 8"x8" Canvas print available online
During
this time of
social isolation, it
feels strange to store all
these magical moments in my
studio, when they could be out in the
world for others to see. Because, at their heart,
Compost Compositions are all about community and
our essential interdependence. Just as the
green stuff and brown stuff have to
mix & mingle to create nutrient
rich 'black gold,' so too do
we depend on
​each other.
Picture
Black Gold, 2017 Photo by ERSwett 8"x8" Canvas print available online
So here
we are! It's the
50th Anniversary of Earth
Week, we are entering our sixth
week at home as we #flattenthecurve,
and it's time to share the love  & powerful magic
in each of these Compost Compositions.
Please visit my online Store or the
Vermont Center for
Photography
.
Picture
Watermelon & Coffee, 2017 Photo by ERSwett 12" x 12" Photo available from the photographer
I am
excited to
donate a portion
of proceeds from all Compost
Compositions
sold during April 2020 to
COVID-19 Relief and, in celebration of the 50th
anniversary of Earth Day to ecochallenge.org.
We are in this together. If you are able
and inspired, please share
​the magic!
Picture
Daffodils, 2018 Photo by ERSwett 24" x 24" Photo available from the photographer
2 Comments

Easter Signs, 2020

4/9/2020

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Picture
Jammed Singer, Damned Masks 2020 Photo by ERSwett
Last week,
I'd had enough.
While attempting to
make masks, my sewing
machine jammed, a sure sign
that it was time to stop, and when I
tried to stitch the outline of a photograph of
myself onto that silk dress I've been
working on for a year,
it was a mess.
Picture
The Misshapen Hand Photo by ERSwett
I was done.
We'd been home
together for almost a
month and I was frazzled. So
first I took myself for a walk and
called my sister. Then, when I got home,
I made pizza, got out some wine and shared
my exhaustion. "What can we do?" my son asked.
How cool is that? We then created a plan for who would
cook which night; We talked about Mom's limits...
and there are many. And, by the end of the
meal we got it - We are definitely in
this whole weird Covid-19
thing together.
Picture
Pizza Dinner with Wine & Good King Henry, 2020 Photo by ERSwett
Even
so, I still felt
untethered on Easter,
so went for another walk, but
longer this time, and wondered if I would
experience any signs to guide me,
this being a mystical time
and all...and sure
enough...
Picture
The People's Car, 2020 Photo by ERSwett
First,
there was
this VW hubcap
just sitting on the railing.
VW - Volkswagon - A car for
People. OK. Got it. One reason this
crisis is so hard to manage is that it impacts
all of us, but some more than others.
Actively helping those in need
doesn't feel like enough.
There it is, that nasty
need to do more,
always do
​more.
Picture
Rusted Iron on West Wheelock Street, 2020 Photo by ERSwett
Next, 
this rusted
handrail, unloved
and imperfect, but still
able to provide support. To me
its textures and shadows are captivating
and reassuring. Perhaps this time is forcing me
to confront my own perfect imperfections
and celebrate this undeniable fact
that I can't not see beauty
even in worn out
things.
Picture
Water Management, Dartmouth College, 2020 Photo by ERSwett
And then
there was this
green sandbag with
its mate up the hill -- one
a snake, the other a donut. They
clearly serve a purpose, having something
to do with water management, but there in the woods,
coming up from the Connecticut River, they
seemed so strange. The first bright
green on this early
​spring day.

Picture
Blue New York Times, 2020 Photo by ERSwett
At this
point, my walk
had become it's own
kind of Easter Egg Hunt, but
instead of colorful eggs, I  found random
objects, each of which felt like a
sign, because I was on a
search and there
they were.
Picture
Pink Ribbon, Pine Park 2020 Photo by ERSwett
This pink
ribbon, so bright
on the forest floor, but
there, communicating something
to someone, perhaps even to me -- Beware,
I'm here - Don't trip? But instead, I got tripped up by these
mysterious marks on the trees. Are they part
of some game, or do they have
great significance? 
Picture
Picture
Picture
Picture
Picture
The more
strange markings
I witnessed, the more
amused I became. Here I was
hoping for 'a sign' and I got way more
than I bargained for. Is it true that Signs, of
the mystical kind with a capital "S," are only as
meaningful as we make them?  Signs appear because
​we look for them when we need them. In this
case, it seems, all these colorful signs were
merely there to remind me that I am
in control of how I interpret not
just these markings, but
this crazy time
​as well.
​
Picture
The Green Poop Bag, Hanover Golf Course, 2020 Photo by ERSwett
And then,
when I emerged
from the woods and was
on my way home, 
this green doggy
poop bag was swinging in the wind on these
bright red twigs. Really? Clearly this is
a sign that sometimes there
are just weird things
blowing in the
wind.
Picture
Co-Exist, 2020 Photo by ERSwett
Maybe
it's just that
simple. I am being
asked to co-exist not just
with my immediate family, but
with the all of it -- the mysteries & the
uncomfortable realities of being
human on a planet that is
struggling to support
us. In the midst
of it all,
I seek meaning
and relevance. It's why I
take photographs. It's why I share
my work and my ideas on this blog. Because
for me, it's spiritual. Just as there is power in the way
compost emerges as nutrient rich soil, there is power in
showing up & trying to make sense of ourselves
and our circumstances, with all our
abundant and colorful
imperfections.
Picture
Beets & Lettuce, 2020 Photo by ERSwett
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On Grief & Gratitude

4/4/2020

0 Comments

 
Picture
Womanswork gloves in the garden at home Photo by ERSwett
All in a
day's work with
my Womanswork Gloves.
Still March, and there I was, out
pruning and clipping and clearing. I did,
indeed, feel like a strong woman
building a gentle world and
this oregano shoot
a gift from the
powers at
be.
Picture
The first oregano Photo by ERSwett
A moment 
of gratitude, when
minutes earlier I'd been
grieving the latest reports on 
Coronavirus cases spreading around
New York, moving north toward
Boston, slowly making its
way toward us.
Picture
Faulty exposure #1 Photo by ERSwett
Seeking
something normal,
I collected compost from
Umpleby's Cafe and Bakery in
Hanover and came home to process
it. But when I downloaded the photographs
from what had been glorious Compost
Compositions, I saw that something
had gone terribly wrong
with the exposure.

Why now?
Picture
Faulty exposure #2 Photo by ERSwett
Was it
me? What
happened to my
trusted Fuji camera that
it also messed up the images
I captured at The Lebanon Landfill
earlier on that same day. What's going on, I
wonder, profound grief emerging not
just at these 'lost' images, but
at so much right now, for
so many people in so
many places.
Picture
Succulent inspired by my mother-in-law & Voice Message by my sister-in-law Photo by ERSwett
Then there
is gratitude for my
sister-in-law, Katherine,
whose recently released book
of poetry, Voice Message, captures her
profound grief at the loss of her 21 year old
daughter almost a decade ago and the loss of all
that might have been, but can't be because of a single fall
on a single day on a ski hill far away. I can't read
more  
than a poem or two a day. It's
just too 
intense right now
with this virus...
Picture
Chanler & Sarah, Easter Day April 4, 2010 Photo by ERSwett
...and my
own two children
at 
home, both approaching
twenty-one, but not there 
yet. We
are not meant to be 
together right now.
They 
are supposed to be with their own friends,
like 
Rachel was all those
years ago.
Picture
Here we are. #frontstepsproject by Etna, NH photographer Kata Sasvari
Instead
we are together.
As they mourn the loss
of a graduation or a 20th birthday
with friends I think about all the different
kinds of losses and can, I think, finally comprehend
that grief in all its forms is real, but that
ultimately, some is just so
much more profound
than ​others.
Picture
Grief & Gratitude at the Landfill - - Sad at all the discarded stuff but glad for the amazing people who show up every day to take care of it. Photo by ERSwett
So while
I grieve for the
loss of images from
the landfill that I will never
see, I am grateful not just for those
that were on my other camera, but for
the knowledge that I can always go
back another day and the crew
will be there making more
mountains out of our
trash. It will be
 different, but
the same.
Picture
Glad for quilting supplies I've never used April 3, 2020 Photo by ERSwett
A lost
child can not
be retrieved. So when
my husband told me that babies
& other young people are now dying from
Covid-19, I experienced more grief, but am grateful
for 'Woman's Work,' like tending the garden or sewing cloth
masks that will protect us from ourselves (lest we touch
our faces) and each other, (lest one of us is sick
and coughs). It is strange to protect
ourselves from ourselves. At
this moment, though,
what 
else is a
mother
to do?
Picture
Remembering how to use a sewing machine April 3, 2020 Photo by ERSwett
So, I
sew masks
out of repurposed
​boxers and favorite old
floral flannel PJs, which were
buried at the bottom of our rag pile
in that funny drawer beneath our dryer
which we so rarely open, but which
is, at this moment, proving
extremely helpful.
Picture
Re-purposing PJs into 9" x 7" 'sheets.' Photo by ERSwett
And while
I sit and sew, I
think about Katherine
transforming her grief into
poetry. While I can never know
what she has experienced, I embrace
this time with my children and the chance
to channel my current angst. Who 
knew old cotton rags would
offer this opportunity at
this particular
moment?
Picture
Pleats in cloth masks Photo by ERSwett
It turns
out that making
masks is harder than I
thought. What I am creating
looks nothing like what I see on all
those YouTube videos. Then I ​remember
that we are in a time of crisis, and I
am doing the best I can with
what I have, where
I am.
Picture
Recycling Center, Lebanon, NH April 2, 2020 Photo by ERSwett
The other
day at the landfill,
I had two cameras, so
even though the settings were
off on one, the other was just right.
Using the tools at hand, I was able to capture
the eerily empty six-foot social distancing spaces at
the recycling center. In a time of crisis, I think
it helps to have guidance whether in
the form of a spray-painted
box, or poetry in a book,
written by someone
you love.
Picture
My son working at home April 2010 Photo by ERSwett
It does feel,
though, that mothers
and mother earth have super-
powers in their abilities to hold and
sooth pain &, by doing so, nourish that pain
so that it can transform into whatever
it is meant to become, in all
its tactile, fragile
​beauty. 
Picture
Calvin the dog, curious about the new office and the return of Our Lady of Perpetual Transformation Photo by ERSwett
So here 
I stand in my
new office space,
created yesterday so
that our basement can be
a hospital if & when we need one...
And here beside me stands
my lady of perpetual 
transformation.
Picture
Me and My Lady - perpetually transforming Photo by ERSwett

#frontstepsproject is on Instagram

@Katasasvari can be found on Instagram & on the web

Voice Message by Katherine Barrett Swett - - Please order through your local independent bookstore. I ordered mine through Still North Books in Hanover, NH

If you can, please support those in your life who needs it...whether it's the person who cares for your loved ones, cares for your home, or cares for you. Venmo and a simple old fashioned check work wonders.
0 Comments
    Picture
    Lyn Swett Miller
    ​
    reframing the narrative, one day, one image at a time
    Picture
    compost re-imagined
     Let's ReFrame: By Degrees
    A place where photographer Lyn Swett Miller considers wonder, joy and transformation in a complex world.

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