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. 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. 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... 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. 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. 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. 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. 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? 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. 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. 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.
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Lyn Swett Miller
reframing the narrative, one day, one image at a time Let's ReFrame: By Degrees
A place where photographer Lyn Swett Miller considers wonder, joy and transformation in a complex world. Archive
September 2021
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