the power of words

sometimes we get hung up on words {on labels to define ourselves} who am i to you? what is this path this career this passion? words are tricky that way, acting like spiderwebs that can keep us in corners.

yet words can also be very liberating. especially when set with intention.

every month over at Shutter Sisters, we play a little game called The One Word Project. it’s fun to set your focus on a word and find it in images. every year it seems, we all gather to set our intentions on a word (or two or three) that will carry us into the new year.

last year i never said my words out loud.

i’ve learned that there’s something powerful about stating intentions out loud. there’s something strong in beginning sentences with “I Will…” so, this year i’m doing it different. there are the words i hold close to me, words like simplify and trust.

but even with those words so close to my heart, i felt there was something missing. when i was driving to the coast the other day, it hit me. how those words are beautiful and meaningful to me, yet they lacked something that i was craving for this year. action. i needed an action word. and as the pine trees zipped past me in a snowy blur i thought about how i wanted to live this year. i thought about how i started this year. and all of a sudden it hit me.

jump.

jump because it’s scary. jump because it makes you smile. jump because it makes your heart race. jump into life with both feet because why not? jump because life is not about stagnation. jump in the face of new adventures. jump and grab life by the balls. jump and then jump again.

……….

be sure to check out the video chris put together of all our one words. it just might inspire you to choose a word of your own.

on a winter sunday…

take a walk with me

never before had i witnessed such dreamy winter light, the blue hue of snow and peach sun was pure magic. it  called me deeper and deeper into the woods. {these woods carry such a calm for me} on this snowglobe day, i felt i was living in a dream. {i love coming home}

how to fight cabin fever

surround yourself with as much color as you can find.

…so far that’s all i’ve got
and we are halfway through january as the subzero temps settle in.

i’m over at shutter sisters today discussing winter wants vs needs.

me, mellow

that title makes me laugh.
if only you knew, i say, it’s all optical illusion.

i was going to title this “how to have a mellow morning” because that was what i was setting out to accomplish. my reasons being my own, of course, but there are always reasons packed into the nooks and crannies of our baggage, right? i carry my mother in that baggage. the good and the bad. and on a day like this one, friday the 13th, her superstitions held strong for me as i drove to the coast for yet another doctor’s appointment. i was curious as to what i had inherited from her in addition to high blood pressure. really? they asked if i was dizzy. or short of breath. they immediately told me to sit down. they asked me to come back again. and again. i was anything but mellow.

there’s something about facing the past in the future.
it either knocks you down or lights a fire of change.

on this particular day, weeks after that initial visit, i was ignited with positivity. (it certainly helps to have a juggling partner to help set the mood of children heading off to meet the school bus). and saying “mind over matter” is one thing, but really feeling it trusting it believing it, is another. he’s right when he reminds me i can choose my perspective. we choose what we invite into our heart. there is so much we cannot control in life and death, but we can control how we respond to what life tosses our way.

take care of your heart.
(this means self care
and finding your happy place
then visiting it again and again.)

there’s something about the drive i take that brings me there: maybe it’s the choice of music or the space to daydream or perhaps because i pass the town where she lived, where she went to college that helps me feel her presence. it’s a bittersweet drive, especially when there is sunshine in the window.

if i know myself well enough i know the best way to my heart is to put feet on sand. and here, in maine, i hear her story in my head. the one she would tell again and again on dementia’s repeat: her mother asked her to carry the lobster pot down to the sea. wade out past the surf to scoop up salt water with which to boil the lobsters (because every good mainer knows they taste better with a bit of the ocean). she’d carry it back, the big pot full of the cold atlantic, sloshing on her thin frame as she trudged home.

she was stronger than she knew.
and i carry her with me now.

it makes me giddy to be at the sea, especially the empty coast of winter in maine. the novelty of snow on sand conjures up good memories from childhood and good dreams of the future i see before us. i went on a bit of an iphoneography adventure. a winter photowalk was exactly what the doctor ordered.

i park and climb over the snowbanks. i feel like a kid here. and i love that. crunch crunch crunch my boots stomp and break through the icy top layer of snow. i’m laughing on the inside. seeking mom. finding me, mellow.

there is such pause with snow.
such intention with every step.
it leads me exactly where i need to be.
one foot infront of the other.

i have the beach to myself. where white snow meets wet sand. grey sky and white caps of rough rough seas. the cold wind takes my breath and simultaneously fills me. it’s beautiful.

i’m not always certain what i’m seeking, sometimes i just go looking. looking for peace or inspiration or something to catch my eye and act as the reminder that i’m on the right path. something to help me feel connected. to tie these threads of past and present and future.

it’s here.
and i’m here.
and that makes me unbelievably happy.

colors pop and come to life.

seagulls are too cold to cry.

it’s there that i find her. and myself.
and when i drive away i feel full.
come to find out, i did not inherit her high blood pressure.
what i got was her heart.
she always told me i’d love maine.

for the love of photography

after i moved from austin, a bit of something shifted in me. i’m still not sure yet how to put words to it. all i know is that i left the fast paced city life for a month-long-bump-in-the-road and then the crossroads that brought me to the western maine foothills, the place i now call home.

through all that transition i tried holding tightly to photography because i could (perhaps) feel it slipping from me. to be honest, before i made my way west to camp shutter sisters i felt like a fraud. i am a shutter sister and yet i was struggling with how to define myself in my photography. i flew down to austin for a weekend in october just before heading to camp. it was there that i spent a (very much needed) few days with my best friends. and it was then that i allowed myself the confessional: i was seeking a slowing down with photography.

let me try to explain.
austin was so fast paced. so familiar. so comfortable.
the digital images flew out of my nikon at full speed.

here, at home, there are no red lights. (literally) we walk slowly over the creek through the woods to the bus stop. we say good morning to the chickens and wave to family along the way. we live off grid in a yurt powered by the sun. 20 acres surround us and provide peace of mind and calm of heart.

life slowed down
to the most perfect pace.
(and for that i am forever grateful.)

what i began seeking with my photography was more intention. more thought put into each image. using my hands and my eyes simultaneously to create art not just snap shots. i made these confessions with hands cupped, wanting my images to feel more sacred. i didn’t quite know the words yet to express what it was i was looking for.

in the evenings after the kids are in bed, we spend time in the “little yurt”, the art studio. it’s there with the woodstove crackling that dreams are shared. we listen and feel heard, we nod in agreement with thoughts and wishes.

winter came and santa arrived with a sleigh full of goodies for the boys. my sweetheart, artfarmer, went outside in the cold and came in carrying something wrapped in black… on a tripod… with bellows. the shape of it drew familiarity and i simply could not believe he would have made such a kind gesture.

a 250 year old large format camera. a real beauty that stands proudly in wood and brass. there are no markings, no engravings, no story to tell other than it spent its life here in new england, mostly in the coastal town of portland, maine.

be still my heart.

as we get our darkroom set up, we dream some more, and take baby steps towards something so entirely exhilerating. the thought of diving into the tin type process makes my heart race. in that most excited oh-my-god-i-can’t-believe-i-get-to-do-this sort of way. (that’s when you know you’re on the right path, with anything, when you make your heart race just thinking about it)

on this particular morning we set up our iphones on tripods and took turns sitting and shooting. under the black drape, viewing the inverted image, fiddling with the bellows to focus the portrait, we were able to capture a bit of the spirit of tin type by shooting a long exposure of the image on ground glass.

intention? most definitely.
sacred? in a hold your breath sort of way.
love? indeed.
(and not just because i love the subject or the fact that he is wearing pigtails)

so here’s to a beautiful love affair.
and a slowing down
for the love of photography.

 

 

something new

we couldn’t have asked for a more beautiful day. (43 degrees outside) NO snow no freezing rain no sleet (as we had been seeing for weeks) and the water temp was 45 degrees.

the energy of the crowd was really something. i knew i’d be nervous, but i was downright giddy. i just couldn’t believe i was going to do it. i was going to submerge my entire body into that cold cold ocean. hell yeah!

it’s weird what you remember from events. not the music, but the visuals of everyone around us. at one point everyone started jumping up and down, warming their cold feet on cold sand and i felt like a kid surrounded by other kids. the energy was contagious and happy and so so good. the visuals came in slow motion, people dancing and laughing with no sound. adrenaline is such a trip.

then the countdown. the hard part was running and running towards that vast sea. the tide was WAY out. i was giddy the whole time, smiling with wind in my teeth, smiling big just feeling like a kid running forever into dreamspace.

then reaching the ocean and running into it… it felt so strange on my legs, intense cold and slow motion running in and under and not even remembering anything but seeing other people’s faces coming out of the water. i came up out of the cold, it was SO FUCKING COLD, it took my breath and my ribs hurt from breathing in the cold. what i remember the most was when i came up out of the water (head wet) i was surprised by SALT. right? it’s the fucking ocean. it’s salt water. but i was so taken by the salt. it tasted so good. felt so good on my skin.

overall it rocked. i was energized and warmed from the inside. the entire experience was more than what i thought it would be. wow.

view it on youtube and watch kristin’s slideshow for her perspective as well.

thank you thank you for all your support, comments, and best wishes for me as i took this plunge into 2012.

xo meredith

 

new year’s day

“We will open the book.  It’s pages are blank.
We are going to put words on them ourselves.
This book is called Opportunity and its first chapter is New Year’s Day.”
-Edith Lovejoy Pierce

blank canvas

Our daily walk through the woods became single file. The snowshoes lead the way; they break trail, leaving footsteps for everyone else to follow. Step with caution, walk with intention, be mindful of those around you.

This is my first winter in New England. I find myself approaching it with a giddiness and certain childlike innocence that borders on naive. Of course I remember the snows of my past life: I’ve driven in snow, I’ve dug out from blizzards, I’ve had my hair freeze to straw. But this? Love and family and motherhood circling around as the snowflakes sparkle? This is something new and very much welcome in my life. I remember now the magic: the quietness that comes with snowfall and the bright sunny days that feel too warm after a good storm. What I had forgotten was how the winter world creates a blank canvas on which we stand. What we do with this new world is completely up to us. The freedom of vast whiteness is exhilarating. Just as a painter stares at what will become new art, we take a breath of crisp air and look out upon the world.

Winter is most certainly a time of hibernation, but this year I’m also seeing it as a fresh start. A blank canvas on which to walk. How do I want to carry through the day? How do I want to express my thoughts? What words am I choosing? How do I want to remember this moment? When winter slows down, it leaves space for us to gather our thoughts. This season of new beginnings is a great time to take a look around your world and see what makes it spin. Join me this month in taking steps in a more positive direction. Let the snowshoes lead the way.

~~~~~

ps: tomorrow morning i’ll be jumping in the atlantic ocean off the coast of maine!
wish me luck!

countdown to crazy

only a handful of days until new years! this means i’m beginning the freak out that comes with the anticipation of something so exhilerating and completely chilly. beyond chilly. downright fucking freezing.

i’m doing the dip. jumping into the ocean off the coast of maine!

i’d love your support. every $1 helps (proceeds the special olympics of maine) hop on over to my fundraiser page and leave a donation if you can!

xo, meredith

slowing down to see

If you are like me, the months of winter spin past in a sort of whirlwind chaos. It is goodness of course: the lights, the sparkle, the baking, the family. It seems the short days and long nights are packed full with celebration and time spent together. I find myself trying to cram it all in. Cram it into what? A memory for the shoebox full of photos? What about right now as it’s happening? Being present is a present.

This is my wake up call. To feel the swirling of energy that comes with the season of holidays. To feel it tugging at my pant leg and instead of hurrying past onto my next task, I’ll bend down as if to embrace a child in need. This year let me take the sometimes frantic feeling of the holiday, and let me slow down to figure out my place in the center of all this celebration and tradition.

Yes, I am a baker of tasty goods. I am a wrapper of presents. I am also chauffer, teacher, cheerleader, and partner. These are some of the pieces that make the whole of me. Let me not forgot that who I am is at the core of all these labels. This year as I enjoy the lights that sparkle around my family, I will look more closely to find myself and catch a breath of peace as I remember my heart. Even if it’s a simple reflection in a tree ornament, it will be enough to act as reminder of the magic.