Rain this morning. Delicious. Now the sun. It makes me glow. Heightened awareness. Okay so what’s that about….oh I just had an epiphany yesterday and suddenly — profoundly –realized in a somewhat much clearer way than ever before….that all I need to do is show up for me. No matter how desolate things can be, no matter how tremendous the challenges of every day health, work stuff, relationship fluctuations, etc etc etc — My real work is simply me. And once I put that front and center I truly believe I can do, achieve, create whatever I intend. It’s freeing to live in accord with my own true self. This is where I begin front and center and this is where I may serve through my art. May I open my heart wide to those closest and those on the street — to begin again and again.
Tag Archives: creative journey
The mighty sea always reminds me of beauty and turmoil in my life. Life’s been bumpy what can I say; however, it’s surrounded by puffs of grace and so much gratitude.
I pulled this photo out this morning and my heart skipped a beat. I suppose it always does when I am able to view this kind of image through my camera lens. It reminds me of the layers of my own life and the need for pauses. Our self-care is ramped up here in our household to balance out the complexities of everyday life.
What is it about extremes I go to when I slip down the rabbit hole and do the internal scream….”Hold on”…or as Mary Oliver so beautifully articulates….”Mend my life.” Yeah…that pretty much says it all. The best part is knowing that the bandaids are close by and at any time I can access my internal garden I’ve tended too so much in the past.
As I edge toward summer I wave goodbye to the windy days of spring and the somewhat unsettling times it has brought me. I’m an evolving modern elder moving into unknown chapters with glee, expectancy and always…the love of the sea.
I realize just as I started settling into the hot sun on my bare legs and I embraced a more accepting demeanor riding the bus with other sweat-bodied individuals – I was forced to shift yet again with the arrival of the fog-filled air. I was so getting comfortable with those stretched-out Indian summer days. Alas, I can always count on the “time to shift time” peeking up to keep me vital.
I was on assignment to shoot the Baraka Gallery in lower Fillmore and I found the weather’s warmth became my companion as it challenged me to dive deeper into the crevices and artistic settings of the African gallery. My fingers walked through a book on Niger and the artifacts that decorated the community of the dark-skinned people. I discovered an enhanced sense of sprit and decorum that rippled through the pages on to me, the viewer.
All around me my senses were being activated by art through books, jewelry, clothing, blankets, and, as a highlight, a stunning man’s tunic stip weaved on hand loom with hand embroidery of the Wodaabe People Niger.
Truly art is everywhere embedded in our cultures. Daily I create more spaciousness to nourish my art. I am more accepting of its mystery and its darkness that emboldens me. I was recently reminded I need to get serious about taking myself more lightly.
So here on this Un-Monday, I am doing just that.
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.
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.
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.
There’s a momentary pause in the rain. Like space in between the words I write. Voids in the day. To be filled or fulfilled. And really, does it matter?
I walked in the rain last night to catch the bus – I needed the almost-mile walk up the blocks dodging puddles and umbrellas and being in the space to catch manna falling from the sky. My body was in heaven giving me thanks for taking it out to stretch, to move, to feel the impact of water.
I’m hydrating more. Realizing how water has an effect on inflammation in the body – we are mostly water – and how simple to know that this one action we can do helps maintain a sense of well being.
I feel such a strong sense of home when I am near the ocean. It took me more than 30 years to discover the sea and now, more than 30 years later, I’m unsure how I would manage without it being steps away.
It reflects the sea inside of me and the enormity of possibility and expansion and solace and comfort. The forces are endless. Like rain on my face, I am continually nourished by its bounty.
As the temps slide down I find myself squirming to locate my nestling spot. There’s so much to do and be done and it’s the holidays and this and that and and…wait stop. Take a breath. Been quite the busy year. And goodness me, I crossed over to a new chapter…marriage. My love, my anchor, now borders me in ways beyond comprehension and I find myself smiling inside and out. And, more importantly, the desire to go deeper…in my work, relationships, service, and at the top of the list, my ART.
Daily I point my camera/ phone at even the simplest of subjects. I allow the motion to keep pushing me forward and hold the vision a new body of work emerges. I know I am a vessel and my daily practice is to allow the expansion in its own time. And in the interim I just keep toe-stepping to the dance.