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The story behind the image:  Steve and I were taking a short walk along Revere Beach.  The tide had receded quite a bit.  He followed the water. I stayed on shore searching out seashells and stones and wishing I’d worn a thicker sweater.  As he returned to me, he suddenly paused and shouted, “Come here. You have to see this.” I raced over and looked down at where he was pointing.  Lines and curves in the sand?  “Bifurcation diagrams in nature,” he exclaimed.  I peered more closely, frowning.  He tried explaining the mathematics of what he saw for me. “It’s like the multiplication of little streams leading to chaos.” “Well,” I said slowly, “I’m reminded of those Asian landscape paintings of mountains with cascading waterfalls over the rocks.”  We studied the sand for a bit longer, he helping to point out different ways to frame photographs of the bifurcation he was seeing, and we both appreciating our different perspectives of the world.

A poster print of this “mountainous” scene is available online here.

 

 

 

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scenes along the Charles River

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These are the hands of St. Paul, St. Peter and Jesus as painted by John La Farge in the murals for Trinity Church.  I was inspired to create this compilation by the moving images and words in Steve McCurry’s recent post, The Language of Hands. I may write more about hands in the future, but for now, I hope you enjoy these images.

St. Paul’s hands

St. Peter, the key in his hand

Jesus with Nicodemus, hands resting

Hands of Christ and Woman at the Well

St. Paul Mural by John La Farge, 1877

St. Paul

The Visit of Nicodemus to Christ by John La Farge, 1878

The Visit of Nicodemus to Christ

 

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I have thought of my father much this weekend, and mostly when I do, I smile.  I am sure that he would shake his head and possibly chuckle at the new bucket of potatoes I have growing in the hallway.  The stems are thick and the leaves a dark, vibrant green in the morning light.  Planting that bucket was a moment of wonderful calm.  I will always associate the joys of gardening with my father who found his calm in that way. I think he used to find his calm on the water too.  In the garden or on the water, I think one thing he modeled for me was how to take a deep breath and keep moving forward even into the unknown.  Maybe that’s why I thought of him as I read a passage from a sermon about Shores of Light.

“There are people even in this troubled and confused world who are continually like plants reaching upward toward the shores of light.  When those shores are completely hidden from our sight by mist and fog, when we can see nothing but this present world from which time sweeps us away with almost no consideration at all, we look at them and we say, The shores of light must still be there.”  — Theodore P. Ferris

 

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In the end, after their photo shoot, the shrimp were sauteed with garlic and ginger and served up with white rice and a bit of greens.

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walking in the woods in low light

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I leaned over a bridge, and this is what I saw in the Mystic River.

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I’m not completely sure what Thoreau meant by that phrase but those are the words that surface as I review these photos.  They do capture a bit of the mood of my mind.

Appreciating the light.  Both intrigued and challenged by the darkness.  In an abstract space, and feeling like that’s not a bad space to be in creatively, but …

… also knowing that, especially on a Monday morning, one needs to find some focus.  Or fake it really well.

I’m hoping another cup of coffee might help. Have a good day, folks. 😉

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