My first photo essay column on Medium.com on the impact of Gloria Steinem’s actions and words. I shot one photograph 45 years ago and the others a few months ago. Her impact remains powerful. Thanks for taking a look and following me for future words.
I am learning – goodness me – over and over again – to experience the complexities of my life on different levels. Perhaps that it because I rise and fall and wallow in the in-betweens and then shift and move again in a new direction.
The rumbles are part of the big messy-like picture – and my mirror is spring with its unpredictability. It echoes the curvatures of my inner landscape.
All I need do is buckle up for the ride.
And continue to recalibrate so I may dive deeper in a new arena with the knowledge that creativity is my arsenal of pure energy. I need only to tap it gently to get the wheels in motion.
Life is fascinating in a myriad of ways. Probably my biggest lesson of late is the companion of my breath and its miraculous powers to settle me. (take five)
We’re in for rocky rides these days. My camera shoots what it will and sometimes it’s a blur of unsettledness and I know when I witness the image I just shot, it is a container of currents awakening me to new tunes.
And so is this season of Spring.
So much chatter going on these days in all areas of our world. I read the other day how important it is to sharpen our “response abilities.” Respond in a fashion that takes us to a different place rather than reacting right away. It’s so easy to just react. I find I’m hitting that pause button more and more.
The ocean is such an anchor for me. I give so much gratitude for being able to witness the mighty sea at almost any day I choose. And it helps remind me to be okay with all the changes. There’s an ebb and flow to everything. I grab my camera and just go.
Autumn has always been a season of quirky shifts for me. The winds remind me that changes are comin; the air can be balmy and/or windy and of late, signal light rain. I walked out yesterday and held my head back to catch the raindrops on my face. This may sound silly; so what. I suppose I was seeking a cleanse from an unknown source.
I’ve also felt a greater sense of loss this season. I reflect back on my friends and family who have passed on and how they impacted my life. I try and pull up some of their kind words of support to get me through the weepy tears that surface. I remind myself it’s okay to just be with the discomfort of those feelings and let the love that I felt sink deeper into my being. It reinforces my heart was and continues to open. I stretch further into the sadness and find trickles of newness. Call it hope perhaps. There’s always another way-another option-another day. I take more rest periods. I walk with neighborhood friends. I call my 92-yr-old Mom and talk about really nothing; I hold my sweetheart closer. I stop and just laugh. I dance to a favorite old song and freak out my kitty cat in the process. All this to just renew as I continue to make my way into the complexities of this time.
Life needs us all. It’s that simple. I mark my spot in this crazy beautiful autumn day.
For days now I am greeted in the early am with layers of fog. It sets my morning in a way that allows me to move in an unfettered way. There’s a freedom attached to the fog. It holds what it is to come and for the few morning hours before the sun moves in there is a beaconing – a calling – so to speak – step in and create.
I shot these magnificent trees on the coastline in Half Moon Bay — a friend had said the night before — “I hope you capture the fog – it is suppose to be really thick tomorrow.” Well with that challenge I set out in the early morn and my camera companion did the heavy lifting. My body moved to the grace of the elements and I found myself in sync with the dance of the atmosphere.
Welcome to the official launch of the Facebook Business Profile of Suzie Biehler Photography. My photographic trajectory began around age 13 when my Dad became my catalyst for an inspiring path of following the light, the shadows, the action, the moments that fell ever so gracefully though the lens of my camera.
Repeatedly I am nudged by my inner muse that I “become” over and over again. I muzzle through the passages. Days I feel on fire – or times when my allusiveness distracts me and I retreat. The wisdom of age saves me and alerts me a new moment, a new day is imminent.
I’ve been writing this blog for a number of years. (You can stroll through the archives for a peek). Due time I step out and show up to you, my friends and new friends and colleagues and family and artists of all mediums.
I encourage you to visit my site, explore, read, be inspired and let me know your favorite image. This one here is one of mine — it echoes my state of becoming with its rippled textures of pure earth and sea.
Thank you for joining me on this creative wave of exploration.
I had been missing the fog horn lately and was surprised how much it shaped my early mornings. Soon, as the end of June came and well into July and now early August — the fog has appeared front and center and I knew it was time to note its impact – with my camera and my words. Truly, I love the fog. There’s an uncertainty that comes with it and gives me a freedom to move in an unfettered way. I take all the liberties I want in these early mornings of pea soup.
I shot these magnificent trees in this layer of fog after a friend challenged me the night before it all started – “I hope you’re capturing the fog – tomorrow is supposed to be the thickest.” Well, with that directive, I set out early to Lands End, near the Cliff House – and approached what was to be truly one of the most graceful mornings I can remember.
Tall and statuesque, the trees were shrouded in layers of mist with branches clinging to touches of nourishment.
I felt part of their morning glee as I moved ever so cautiously clicking away — pinching myself I was given a pass to participate in their dance.
I hope you will find this image as inspiring as I do ~ it reminds me that being in the unknown is perfectly okay. It triggers hope and possibility.
I felt the air stream guiding over the exposed part of my tummy as I luxuriated on the sand. 80 plus degrees in San Francisco – a rare treat and it was edging up to Summer Solstice. David was snoozing. He was in recovery from life twists and turns and sleep soothed his restlessness. Me, well I was in that space where stillness seemed to rock the outskirts and the insides of my being.
My breaths were deeper. My actions had a new layer of kindness – for myself and others.
I closed my eyes. Distant voices. One man person pontificating to his somewhat inattentive family.
I was drifting. The breeze woke me as the sun beamed on my bare belly. Moments that one can find only on the beach. There’s a joy smoldering in this landscape. It’s pure. I feel the oneness and the community of others in for simple frolic, bright sunlight and sand. Kids seem to be at their best drooling in the sand with toys as tools guiding them to deeper depths.
yep, only at the beach.
It seems I play with dualities lately. I am increasingly more and more aware of the balance of yes and no and working with the opposites to bring a united front.
It’s seeing myself as oh so small at times and then in a flip, realizing the immensity of my greater self. I dance between – finding parallels.
My challenge is to develop a greater consciousness of the spiral down – to be able to catch myself in an instant and bring light. I look up to the sun. I lay myself in the grass and point my camera at the flickering leaves on sprawling branches of an immense tree. I feel the earth hold me, my body, my being. Again I am reminded, everything serves. By accepting the conflicts within myself I am able to find a oneness within. I shot this photograph and later realized I captured an angel walking on the edge of a wave. Is it real or imagined? Does it matter. Together we skip a beat. And the ocean, just like life, holds us all.
There’s something about freshly washed laundry to spark a memory.
As I was hanging up my wet clothes to dry in the fresh air I remembered being with Mom on one visit where we exchanged favorite items we once valued with each other.
She gifted me a scarf from her treasure trove and I passed on a used makeup bag no longer wanted. What amazed me about her actions was that she truly coveted this old makeup bag and spent the next hour or so soaking it, rubbing it, and hanging it out to dry to be made new, so to speak.
I thought of that memory this morning as I was hanging up a blouse and my emotion caught the best of me. I sunk into that moment just being together – sharing tips from each other and honoring the exchange of our simple stuff. I love her so just for being a girl with me –
I’ve shot many photographs of clotheslines and fresh laundry. This is one of my earliest – fresh cotton diapers blowin in the wind. I’ve folded my share of those in another lifetime.
It’s the purity, the profound whiteness, the freshness of something renewed that triggers my attachment.
Spring is here. Time to renew and begin again and again.