moving forward
Creative Blocks
13/06/25 14:12
Life fell apart five years ago. Remember 2020? We all seemed to experience this period of time differently and yet, there were commonalities. Slowly, I recovered. How about you?
Life was not like it had been before. I was recovering from surgery and still grieving. Yes, maybe not the same way but grief was there nonetheless. By now, I talked to myself about how everything was different. Friends were understanding but had their own issues to contemplate and believe me, it is difficult to explain great loss to anyone who has not gone through it in some way.
By now, I had packed away all my darkroom equipment and camera gear. I no longer made "pictures" as I drove, locating spots to return to or stop at now, just to shoot an image. If my friend, Joanne, had not agreed to be with me at the studio tour, I would not have participated, or been on the Art Walk. Both those events take hours of preparation, set up, and tear down. The 7 hour days on your feet, speaking to a couple of hundred people, is exhilarating and tiring. But I don't seem to do things half way.
So in early June, I put my house on the market. As you might imagine, during the 24 years since moving north of Toronto after retiring and setting up my studio, I had accumulated a great deal of photography equipment, framed photographs, enlargers, darkroom chemistry and then there was all the gardening equipment. It all had to be cleared out but thankfully not till after the house sold.
For the next four months, that was all I thought about and all I did.
There was no energy left over to be creative except when it came to packing. And I am still discovering how crazy that was. The move happened and I started a new life. I am still finding my way.
But I longed for the quiet moments in the woods with my cameras or the chance to scan the horizon and find the perfect shot.
It was not until late winter that I took a picture.
As I drove back to Thornbury to visit friends, I was inspired to pull over near a wonderful swamp, ice covered with a dusting of snow. I felt my heart open, grateful to be there at the perfect moment.
That's what creativity if for me. It is not about manipulating the camera or the digital image. It is about sensing the moment when I can capture something beyond the ordinary, an image that inspires me. I can only hope that some of these images touch your heart.
Life was not like it had been before. I was recovering from surgery and still grieving. Yes, maybe not the same way but grief was there nonetheless. By now, I talked to myself about how everything was different. Friends were understanding but had their own issues to contemplate and believe me, it is difficult to explain great loss to anyone who has not gone through it in some way.
By now, I had packed away all my darkroom equipment and camera gear. I no longer made "pictures" as I drove, locating spots to return to or stop at now, just to shoot an image. If my friend, Joanne, had not agreed to be with me at the studio tour, I would not have participated, or been on the Art Walk. Both those events take hours of preparation, set up, and tear down. The 7 hour days on your feet, speaking to a couple of hundred people, is exhilarating and tiring. But I don't seem to do things half way.
So in early June, I put my house on the market. As you might imagine, during the 24 years since moving north of Toronto after retiring and setting up my studio, I had accumulated a great deal of photography equipment, framed photographs, enlargers, darkroom chemistry and then there was all the gardening equipment. It all had to be cleared out but thankfully not till after the house sold.
For the next four months, that was all I thought about and all I did.
There was no energy left over to be creative except when it came to packing. And I am still discovering how crazy that was. The move happened and I started a new life. I am still finding my way.
But I longed for the quiet moments in the woods with my cameras or the chance to scan the horizon and find the perfect shot.
It was not until late winter that I took a picture.
As I drove back to Thornbury to visit friends, I was inspired to pull over near a wonderful swamp, ice covered with a dusting of snow. I felt my heart open, grateful to be there at the perfect moment.
That's what creativity if for me. It is not about manipulating the camera or the digital image. It is about sensing the moment when I can capture something beyond the ordinary, an image that inspires me. I can only hope that some of these images touch your heart.