Photography as Meditation
How meditation can exist in seeing rather than looking
As part of the first week of the Magic of Light Photography Workshop with Summer Murdock, we were asked to capture inanimate objects in dynamic light—practicing our ability to look beyond the subject and towards the light-source as a method of creating added interest in our work. Summer specifically recommended that we go out walking on our own, during the golden hour, without the distraction of children, partners or even our dog.
I took to the streets—in the mere 5 degree Boston polar vortex (aka Winter)—with my camera, bundled so that only my eyes peered through my all encompassing puffy-coat. Initially, I found myself really looking for the light, and for any object that might be highlighted by it. My eyes tracked from surface to surface as I briskly walked up and down the narrow and salted streets. Things looked pretty bleak. The light was warm but the air was intensely cold and it was forcing me to keep a pretty quick pace. I wasn’t feeling very inspired.
As I approached the neighborhood K-8 school, I saw some interesting shadows happening on the cement overhangs that drew my attention. I walked toward the wall and started to stare straight at the sky. Noticing how blue it was, how deeply blue without a cloud in sight. Without any reference to the weather, one might think it was mid-summer looking at that sky.
I was seeing more yet, simultaneously less.
Something strange happened in that moment. I just stood there, I stared and then started to do a kind of spin, pivoting on one foot while my eyes stayed locked in that same position. It was fun, it was joyful…I was playing. I was seeing things differently. I was seeing more yet, simultaneously less.
Once I came to a stop, I squatted down and landed in a seat on the steps.
I sat for several moments, just seeing my surroundings. Not looking, but really seeing. I then slowly meandered through gated entrance to the school, curious what else there might be that I was missing.
I found a McCafe cup that internally lit, looked like a 2-dimensional object bathed in a wing-like shadow and footprints that appeared to be leading me to a nowhere.
I continued on my walk, for I’m not sure how long but I discovered at some point that my glove was off and my hand was freezing. I hadn’t really noticed that. The cold had disappeared for a while and my mind had quieted.
It was a realization that I hadn’t discovered before. That seeing and looking felt different. Seeing is in the present, looking is in the future. In looking, we are imagining what could be created. In seeing, we are creating.
Seeing is in the present, looking is in the future.
Among many inspirational pieces that Summer has introduced to us was a talk by photographer Jessica Backhaus. The piece is on the power of Wonder and how she spends hours roaming spaces and letting the photographs come to her, rather than her coming to them. I find this idea of wonder powerful and I like to think I practice it often but I made a connection that I hadn’t before; wonder (and simultaneously the act of wandering) can do the same for our subconscious as Meditation. It frees us to be completely present. We become hyper-focused with our eyes, quieting our mind and its expectations of what we might find. I realized that wandering with a sense of wonder embodies the same methodology as yoga—it’s an exercise in focus and acceptance of whatever it is we may encounter along the way.
In looking, we are imagining what could be created. In seeing, we are creating.
Alice is a creative and new mom living in Boston. She freelances and teaches graphic design at Boston University. She’s been using photography as a creative outlet since she discovered how to make a camera out of a shoebox over a decade ago. She’s also recently immersed herself in the practice of mindfulness (when you have a 10-month old you need every moment of peace you can get).
See more of Alices work at alicephoto.co.
