“There is an eternal landscape, a geography of the soul; we search for its outlines all our lives.” – Josephine Hart
I have often wondered if it’s true what they say; that art imitates life. Or maybe it’s actually the other way around. Is it our life that imitates our art? Over the years, I have so often seen correlation between what I am shooting and what I am feeling. I guess whichever comes first—the image or the emotion—makes no difference. Maybe there’s no code to crack and it’s just enough to nod in recognition that the two exist together in a mysterious yet wonderful dance that might not need to be fully understood, only acknowledged.
My shutter has been quiet for a while. I haven’t been as drawn to shooting my daily life as I have been in the past. Certainly, there are many reasons that might help explain it, but it feels like more than that. Still, instead of continuing to ask myself why, I have reflected on the things I have been seen through my lens lately: The melancholic forward motion of my children, birds in flight, paths meandering into the horizon and landscapes, spacious, vast and mysterious.
More and more, the common threads appear and I recognize that in fact, the landscape (both the external and the internal) is evolving and changing. Anticipation. Loss. Sorrow. Fear. Courage. Release. Faith. Resolve. Hope. Around every turn. On every level. These are strange and surreal days that are calling for my utmost awareness, my most heightened attention, and my truest, most tender and vulnerable self. All of these shifts are making this feel like one of the most important, yet challenging times of my life.
The thing about venturing into new landscapes is that there are a lot of unknowns. And the unknown can evoke fear. For me anyway. But something has got to give. I have to accept and honor the tides of change. I am reminded again and again that you cannot discover new oceans without losing sight of the shore. And so, I slowly (always slowly) push myself out and away and look forward to the day when I can gaze toward the new horizon more than I look back toward the past. Thankful for everything that brought me here. Knowing that I needed every minute of what was, to head towards—and eventually find—what will be.
Our Collective has been meaningful and wonderful and important to me (and hopefully to you too); something that I am deeply grateful for. Every single person that has shared an image or an essay with us—on the site or through our Instagram page—has touched me deeply. But, it’s one of many parts of my landscape that is now evolving. Please know, however, that I’m glad I have had and will continue to have all of you to share new horizons with. Mine. Yours. Ours. No matter where we go or what we do, we are connected, sharing a big beautiful, promising landscape that is waiting for us.
Sail on! Let’s all sail on.