Color Pop in the Drizzle

I haven't blogged in a while, so here goes...

Last week, it rained. We stayed inside with the boys all morning, through the middle of the day, and into the afternoon. Things went pretty well until afternoon, when little irritations started to really grate on people. When everyone stays cooped up in the house for too long, things can get kind of ugly. Serendipitously, the neighbors invited the kids over to play. Reset button, start again, whsew!

I sat down at the computer, finally able to wrap my head around my "much more important" work. I glanced at my email, and the subject line caught my attention: "Get outside whatever the weather." I opened the email. It was an advertisement for a new line of clothing. But, the words stuck out to me. I had been contemplating a walk since morning, so I knew I needed to get outside, even though it was raining and cold. I told Erin "I need to move my body. I'm going outside for a walk. Be back shortly!"

As I walked, I began noticing the way colors seemed to appear much more vibrant than usual. It was as if each color popped out from the dull gray surroundings. The wetness served to make the colors more vibrant and alive. I decided to photograph some perceptions that stopped me. It turned out to be a pleasant walk, in spite of (or because of!) the weather.

Seeing Form as Form

Seeing Form as Form

What do you think

When you see the color red?

When you see a shadow?

When you see shiny silver?

When you see a shape?

Can you feel your feet on the ground

As you take each step?

Are you rushing forward,

Or can you appreciate right now?

Does the air touch your skin

In this very space?

Can you take in your experience

And slow down?

Does your mind label

Your every feeling?

Does a feeling arise

With every sight?

Every sound?

Every smell?

Where can freedom be found?

Red is just red

Green is just green

Shadow is just shadow

Silver is silver

Form is just form

The world is alien

The familiar is made new

What was dull is now fresh

The ordinary takes on a different quality

This is training to see 

Things as they actually appear

This week, I aspire to try this with my children:

1. Have cameras handy, with fresh batteries and space on memory cards.

2. Ask if they see anything they want to photograph.

3. Encourage them both to choose a photo to print at the end of the week.

A Photo Walk Together

Yesterday I invited our oldest son to go for a walk. We both brought our cameras. I told him I was doing a Miksang exercise called "sidewalks" and that the point was to look at the sidewalks and notice what's going on there. I made it about me and invited him to join me if he wanted. I said I'd be taking about fifteen photographs. He seemed curious. I said "does it sound boring?" He said "kind of." I prompted him with a question: what's there? I said that we don't normally pay attention to sidewalks and he said "you're not supposed to." I said that's our choice whether or not to pay attention to them. I said nobody decorates them or makes them all that interesting. He said yeah. He said "they're just for walking on, that's all." He took 16 photos, not all of sidewalks. Afterward, I thanked him for coming along with me and said I enjoyed his company. He smiled.

Here are a few of his photographs:

What’s a helpful piece of advice for working with kids? They might not immediately “get it” or even want to do what you're doing. That doesn’t mean it’s pointless to talk about it with them, or to have them along with you while you practice.

Cheers!

Insights from Spring Break Camp

This spring at Up and Coming Artists Camp, students at CityArts spent parts of three days learning photography using digital cameras supplied by CityArts. I taught these classes  sometimes with the assistance of another CityArts instructor. The students ages ranged from six to twelve years, with the average age around eight. Camp lasted five days, and the week culminated with a gallery experience where campers had the opportunity to display their work and sell it if they wished.

The rest of what follows isn't polished writing, by any means, but is more of a collection of notes written out in detail of different aspects of the week. Maybe there is something here that will spark an idea, a question, or a phrase to ponder that will lead to insight. So, here goes...

On looking and seeing:

Stopping to smell the roses (so to speak) is a practice that helps reduce impulsive labeling and categorizing of experience. It fosters clear seeing. Physically stopping, we can land in a moment fully and completely. It can be a sudden stop, or a more gradual one, but landing in right now right here and staying open to our experience, there is the possibility to see in a truly new way. It is like a deliberate short-circuit on our knee-jerk tendency to put every experience into a clearly defined box. Why is it that we see color and light and texture in one moment, and in the next moment, we say "hmm, no good. I don't like it." What's that about?

Children learn through play, so games are an essential part of teaching and learning an art form like photography. It could be any form of creative expression, though. Painting. Sculpture. Ceramics. Printmaking. Drawing. Writing. Giving your full attention to one thing at a time in a fun, open, inquisitive way is powerful and strengthens self-regulation, concentration, mood, and a sense of confidence.



Once a student has actually STOPPED with their eyes open, they see and are able to express what they see. Feet firmly planted on the ground. Aware of sensations in their bodies, hearing, smelling, feeling the air. If they know just enough of their tool or medium of expression, they can commit to expressing their experience, whether it is musical, tactile, visual, or olfactory. Or poetic.

In photography, know the camera. Know the focus. Zoom. Framing. Know when to press the shutter. Be really still. Pay attention. Take lots of photos. Look at your photos and ask with each one "did I photograph what stopped me?" The camera is pretty simple, and with a little practice, anyone can master the mechanical functions of the camera. What's often overlooked is learning how to look and to see. This can be more challenging, but it is also a lot of fun! 

More on games:

At CityArts, I took an idea from a book called "Mindful Games," and incorporated it into teaching photography. This book is all about introducing mindfulness and meditation practices to children through games they can learn and apply that will help them to be less judgmental of their experience, more compassionate toward themselves and others, and better able to respond to situations with clarity and focus. If kids can learn to meditate through a game, why couldn't they learn Miksang as well? (I don't call it "Miksang" since that label would tend to distract from the experience.)

What is "Miksang?" Take a visit to these websites: www.miksang.com or www.seeingfresh.com.

Side note: I don't know of many adults practicing Miksang Contemplative Photography who have young kids, or who have tried to teach it to their kids,so there hasn't been much in the way of resources for me to draw on, although one of my mentors provided some encouragement  and guidance early on in my Miksang training. Games are easier for children to connect with than serious "exercises" and "assignments" anyway, so it seems natural to introduce things in a fun, exploratory context.

Another side note: Miksang is tailored to adults who come with years and years of conceptual overlays about their perceptions and have to unlearn a lot of their photographic and artistic training to rediscover how to see with the simplicity a child. This does not mean acting childish with a camera, but rather, allowing oneself to notice, play with and photograph visual perceptions that would not normally register on most people's radar. 


On the actual details of Spring Break:

I was reminded numerous times during Camp of the importance of using simple and clear concepts when working with children. 

"What do you see?" An exploration of the difference between what we think we see and what our eyes are actually seeing, using a clear plastic water bottle as a subject.

Photograph by a student during "Seeing Cat" game 

Students all stopped at the same time and photographed whatever they happened to be seeing in that moment.

more from "Seeing Cat"

Photographed during "texture walk" while looking at the surfaces of things, smooth, rough, fuzzy, shiny, etc. and stopping to photograph texture.

This was my son's favorite photo which he had printed and framed, and sold for $3.00.

A memorable challenge came on the last day of the camp, when two of the youngest students seemed confused about the activity the rest of the older students were engaged in. I had found a dozen or so games from online research as well as some I  developed on my own. I'd written these on 3x5 cards that the students could choose from, and there was one in particular I had doubts about but decided to include it anyway. It involved using a word as a prompt, and then going out and looking for examples of that word, and photographing them. I thought the exercise would be too conceptual to lead to anything much. Even though I resisted using it, I decided to try it in this moment with these two students. One student, a bright-eyed girl about six years old, decided her word would be "and." ... I thought "wow, ok!" So, we began to look for examples of the word "and." 

At first, the looking was very conceptual, not so experiential. I thought, how about high [and] low, or up [and] down? We began looking for things that were arranged in a vertical relationship to one another, with one above and one below. That wasn't so easy to SEE and kind of difficult to express in a photograph. Then, I remembered an exercise in Miksang where we looked at the visual difference between things that happened to be side by side, really noticing the difference between them VISUALLY and seeing them at the same time. One of the girls happened to be wearing a shoe with iridescent sparkles on it right next to a white rubber material for the sole. I pointed to the sparkles and said:

"look! What do you see?" 

"Sparkles," she replied.

"Good! And what do you see here?" I pointed to the rubber sole.

"White."

"Yes! Sparkles AND white!"

She smiled.

"Can you make a photograph of sparkes AND white?" I held my camera out for her to use.

Here is her photograph:

Sparkles AND white!

It was a rich and insight-filled Spring Break, and I wanted to at least record some of the ideas that emerged. I could write more, but I think I will end it here for now. 

Best Wishes and please ask questions! Let me know if anything here resonates with your experience!

Cody

What Might Change When we Pay Attention?

This is a question I explored several months ago in a short burst of inspiration and would like to share in a post. It began simply and led to some insights that may be interesting or valuable, if you care to read: 

What happens when you take the time to notice how the world is appearing to you? 

You begin to see differently. You begin to notice more, and to take in more of your surroundings. You sharpen your eyes. Your mind begins to settle. Your thoughts seem less significant. You are more present. You are more focused. You begin to develop a curiosity about the world around you, which is fundamentally different from the frame of mind you were in before you started looking. You were preoccupied, obsessed, though you may not have really known it. Now, you are beginning to take an interest in things outside yourself. Your worldview is changing, shifting. Your awareness has begun to grow larger, deeper. You want to look further, and as you do, you start to see more and more.

Do you want to continue looking? Can you? Sure! Life may interrupt you. You might have to deal with a crying child or a burning stove. But, you can keep looking. You can keep fueling that intention as you do. Bring the intention into those situations. Your heart is freer now, because you took the time to notice the details of what is in front of you. Now you see your child's face, feel his sadness. You feel it as your own, and you want to help him. You listen to him, as you look. It is helpful to take a light touch. Don't try to separate yourself from the situation to return to some perfect state of aloneness and contemplation. You can bring the stillness of mind into that situation and kindle it with the intention to see.

Look with a soft gaze. Be who you are. Don’t shrink away from this moment, fearing that you’re on the wrong track. You’ve been chosen by this exact moment to experience something and to manifest something real, something beautiful. You may feel hot, uncomfortable and jittery. Or you might feel embarrassed, or angry. Maybe it’s sadness you feel. Whatever it is, you can feel it and it is now, and it is energy. Just energy. If you can be with it now, it will dissipate. Even if you can only partially open to it. Stay with it, and breathe. Relax into the feeling.

Is looking enough? Not always. Sing! Sing to yourself in the shower. Sing in the car. Hum a tune as you work at your desk. Listen to music while you make works of art. Picasso said: "To draw (or paint), you must close your eyes and sing." The connection between music and true seeing is deeper than we might realize. Our state of mind is more important than it might seem, and music, especially happy music, opens up undreamt of possibilities for expression and creativity. It also reassures us, helps us know that things are going to be alright. We can use this in artmaking to see that we do not need to rush. It is perfectly safe to let go and open the gates of creative expression fearlessly and courageously.

Seeing Color

I was having a conversation the other day with a friend about a totally common and ordinary visual experience. We were looking at the color of a bedspread she'd gotten from a relative, and was commenting on how the colors were too "girly" for her toddler, a boy. Looking at the bed, I thought the colors didn't have a particularly gender-oriented leaning one way or the other. It occurred to me that the thought "girly" versus "boyish" are conceptual overlays that have no real meaning beyond our own ideas and preferences, most of which are societally-based. We discussed how, 100 years ago, the color pink was considered more of a boy color than a girl color. I was struck by how different it is to just see color as color, as it is, without giving it some additional meaning. In my training in contemplative photography, we are taught to work with our minds in letting go of the distraction of our thoughts and just see. Sometimes this hits home, in moments like these, when we encounter our own constructed view of the world blatantly masking our own direct experience.

As I glanced back at the bedspread, I felt gratitude for my connection to this approach to seeing, and for my ability to look with fresh eyes and appreciate the richness of the phenomenal world.

Some food for thought,

Cody

Trusting Our Experience

Our world is busy.  We are in a social situation most of our lives, whether we acknowledge it or not.  Even when we are alone, we are making decisions.  What we do affects others, and eventually finds its way back to us.  When we share something with someone, it changes us.  And it is very easy to get caught up, lost, in the response that they have to what we have shared.  This is true of sharing photographs, as well as other forms of art and creativity.  The tendency to want others to like what we create is very strong, and it often gets in the way of our own ability to enjoy our experience.

One example of this is when we enter our work in a contest.  We may take a photograph that evokes a strong emotion in us, or makes us inspired to go out and take more photos of the same subject matter.  We may begin to feel that we could find better compositions, more dramatic colors or lighting, more evocative arrangements of the same objects so that others might really be impressed by what we’ve done.  We might spend hours looking, put up with frustration and repeated failure in search of just the right conditions to make our images look the way we want them to.  And when we finally see the results of the judges, we find that our work has paid off.  Some of our photos have won prizes.  We may have even received a Best of Show for one of them.  We feel elated, overjoyed, and want to show all our friends in hopes that they, too, might have the same reaction.

But when we share our images with someone we trust, such as a family member or close friend, we may find that they can’t connect fully with one or two of them.  We may be met with a look of confusion, or by a well-intended critique, by this person we were certain would “get it.”  Do we shy away, thinking that what made us so inspired was really not all that great after all?  Or, do we get angry, thinking “well, they just don’t understand me and my feelings.”  We could very easily become discouraged about what we are doing and want to give up.

This is where the creative process gets interesting.  When we are praised for our work, it is easy to feel good about it, and about ourselves.  But when someone else questions us, or tells us that “it would be better if you only changed this little part,” it throws us off.  What do we do in this situation?  How do we remain confident about what we are doing, and keep from shutting down or closing ourselves off from our own experience? 

It comes down to a very individual situation.  Whether or not we defend ourselves isn’t entirely the question.  However, it may be necessary to resist the urge to explain away our reasons and our process.  We have to realize, first, that no one can really tell us what we saw or know why we chose to photograph our perception in the exact way that we did.  We are the only ones who can do that.  And second, we need to remember that not every person is going to understand, immediately, every photograph that we take.  It doesn't mean our experience is less valid, or that we should delete or throw away our images.  Oftentimes the images no one seems immediately to understand are the ones we ourselves can learn from the most, and may end up opening doors we never imagined possible.

In the end, it is the quality of our own experience, not the value judgments placed upon it by others, that is most important.  If our experience is genuine, and it is communicated clearly in the image, that is all that matters.  All the rest is secondary.

You can view a slideshow of my images from around the time I wrote this entry here.

Warm regards,

Cody Flory Robertson

Going Beyond Boredom: Middle School Youth Explore their World at the 2013 WPD Gathering

Early last month at a retreat center in central Kansas, a group of 16 Middle School aged youth participated in a Contemplative Photography workshop.  I led the workshop, and was assisted by two adult volunteers who helped organize the event and supervise the participants, who ranged from 11 to 13 years of age.  The youth participants engaged in exploring their visual world and learned to express what they saw with a camera.  By the end of the day, each of them got the opportunity to share their images with the rest of the group in a digital slideshow, and gave supportive feedback on their sharing.

The goal of the workshop was to inspire these young people to be more curious about what is happening visually in their lives.  Taking the time to notice our visual perceptions takes openness, and it requires setting aside plans and personal agendas long enough to take in our experience. For this reason, the exercises used during this workshop were aimed at uncovering pure, basic seeing without concepts about what is “pretty” or “ugly,” and connecting with the world as it is.

The first assignment was to shoot ten images within a 10-foot square.  The location?  A corridor between buildings that offered brick, concrete, and occasional fall leaves scattered upon the ground.  Participants were encouraged to push themselves to keep looking, to photograph what they saw, and to stick within the boundaries they had been given.  After everyone had finished, the group gathered together to discuss what had happened.  I asked if anyone got bored or frustrated during the exercise.  Several hands went up, and heads nodded.  “Good!  What happened next?”  I asked if anyone noticed anything in the 10-foot square that they hadn’t seen before doing the assignment.  A few hands went up at first, then more.  I asked a few to share what they had seen.  By this time, the cold was becoming uncomfortable for several people in the group, so we relocated to the parking lot and into the warm sun.

In the parking lot, everyone gathered in a large circle.  I announced that we were going to look for color.  Whereas the 10-shot exercise begins to open our eyes to the world, the color assignment takes us deeper by further simplifying our intention.  The assignment begins with a series of slow, 360 degree visual scans of the horizon with the intention to look just at color.  With each rotation, the participants turned in place while looking with a gentle gaze at their surroundings, not labeling the objects they saw, but rather, simply noticing their color. 

It might seem that looking in this way has little to do with photography.  As adults, we tend to look at things through the lens of our habits and our preferences.  We are accustomed to filtering our experiences based upon what we think is interesting subject matter, what looks “good,” and what we want to see.  Even from a very young age, we begin to judge what we see based on our likes and dislikes, our ideas about what our peers find acceptable, and concerns about approval by our parents and caretakers.  For this reason, it can be very difficult to set aside preconceptions and simply see the world as it actually appears.  If we spend some time working with our minds and tuning into our visual perceptions first, then when we go out to shoot, we will be fresh and ready to take in our experience fully, with an open heart and alert mind.

After doing the color exercise, everyone split up and went off with our cameras.  The assignment was to shoot 30 photographs, looking for bold and vivid colors.  When the group met in the afternoon, we edited our images down to the best 5 to share in a final slideshow with each other.

I’ve created a gallery of some of these images online, to share the flavor of what the participants saw and photographed.  You can find the gallery by clicking here.  In looking at the images, you may be surprised by the vividness and the directness of their expression.  Contemplative Photography is simply concerned with the experience of seeing and whether or not that experience is translated to the final photograph.  The freshness of these perceptions is evidence of the state of mind of each photographer, at the moment he or she pressed the shutter.  I hope you will take a moment to pause, breathe and enjoy the images!

Cody Flory Robertson

Obstacles to Clear Seeing: An Essay on Contemplative Photography

The year is 2013, a time of social media, technological wizardry, interactive video games, and easy access to many forms of entertainment.  We are bombarded with news, music, movies, and advertising at a rate far faster than we can realistically take in and process in any helpful or meaningful way.  As a result, most of us are caught up in a speedy life, filled with disjunct bits of information, busy schedules, and very little time to “stop and smell the roses” so to speak.

With all the speed, there comes a kind of numbness.  Rather than actually experiencing our world directly, with our senses and an open mind, we tend to react in three ways: by accepting, rejecting, or ignoring.  Sometimes we like something, and want more of it.  “That game is so cool, my friends all have it!”  Or we really don’t like something.  “Man, that phone looks old, and it’s really ugly.”  Or, we ignore what is there completely and look right past it.  Most of the time, the things we ignore are not even on our radar for more than a second or two, so we don’t remember them.  If someone asked you to close your eyes and say what color shirt the person next to you was wearing, would you be able to answer?  Maybe yes, or maybe no!

So, what would happen if we slowed down and noticed our own accepting, rejecting, and ignoring?  We might discover that we have missed a lot in our everyday world, thinking it is boring, just not worth looking at.  But there is so much to see!  First, we have to be willing to pause and see it.  We have to realize that beneath our judgments about the world we live in, there is something new and perhaps quite wonderful to experience.  And it is right under our nose, almost literally.

The main problem, the reason we don’t see what is right in front of us, is because we have not been taught how to look.  When we see something that catches our eye, we often don’t take the time to really look at it because we are not accustomed to actually stopping to appreciate these experiences, even though they may happen all the time.  Through the practice of Contemplative Photography, it is possible to “get in the habit” of noticing more of these ordinary moments that normally pass us by.  Through noticing, and spending time with our visual perceptions, we can then photograph them and, if we wish, share them with others. 

So, how do we learn to look?  We begin by setting the intention to look.  What do we look for?  In this practice, it is useful to look for a basic element of form, such as color or texture.  When we set our intention to look for color, for example, we will begin to notice color in unexpected places and in new ways. 

We might notice the vivid orange of a dish in the sink, the texture of the soap bubbles hovering on the surface of the water, the way the light reflects softly from the window above.  Or, we might see the pile of dishes and think, “oh no, look at all these dirty dishes.  This is going to take forever to wash!” And then, turn around and look for something more interesting to spend our time on.

We always have this choice.  We can either look, see, and appreciate what is actually going on in our lives, or we can take a U-Turn down a path of familiar thoughts and judgments about the world we live in-- and miss our immediate experience entirely!

You may be thinking, “I don’t have time to stop and look at dishes in the sink!”  There are many important and practical tasks to be done.  But, what’s interesting is that these mundane tasks will actually be more enjoyable if we are present and aware as we do them.  

And the truth is that if we devote ourselves to the practice of looking and seeing, we will have all the time we need. 

To view photographs that express my own direct experience, click here.