Friday, June 6, 2025

Dwelling in Eden


Eden Collage

When you look at the world, what do you see?

Photographers are known for having a "good eye". But what does that mean? Is it something you're born with? Is it something you learn? 

I've discovered that when I'm carrying a camera, I'm expecting to see beauty. It's something of a treasure hunt. Finding it comes more easily to some than to others, but we can train ourselves to look. There is much that is not beautiful to distract us, that is certain. Where will we focus our gaze? 

It's as much a mindset as a way of using our eyes or the camera--a photographer's eye is anchored in hope.

I've just finished my first ten years as the owner of a photography business. I remember my trepidation like it was yesterday. Would my offerings be worthy of payment? So many others did it so well, had so much experience, and those who would hire me had lives and stories worthy of a highly skilled professional. But here's the thing: they picked me. I will never quite get over that. And their stories live on in the photos that spark the memories. 

I have seen my photos of people on walls, on invitations, in books, on giant posters, at parties. And at funerals. I'm so grateful for the many sweet connections I've been able to capture between loved ones while there was still time. While they were still small. Before they moved on to the next chapter, or the life beyond. It all feels like a sacred trust. 

All this time, since long before I started my business, I've been developing my photography skills, including my "eye". It really helps to know what to look for, what gear and settings you need to capture it, how to position yourself, how to frame it. But before any of that matters, you have to decide what world you're going to live in.

DSC_9382

Here's what makes the difference for me: I choose Eden. 

In the beginning of the Genesis account, God affirms the goodness and beauty of every part of his creation. His delight is palpable--he thought of everything, there is more than enough to go around! As the story moves forward, humans choose to create their own versions of what's good for them over partnership with God in the world he envisioned, but wherever he finds a willing soul, he invites them join him in cultivating new life, Eden style.

Dwelling in Eden is a conscious choice to call God's creation good--to seek out evidence of it everywhere, and nurture it to grow and multiply. For me, it's most naturally done with a camera. Here's to another ten years of looking for signs of glory, in the earth and its creatures, and the humanity that God loves. I guarantee you I will find them. My photos are my thank you notes, and my invitation to others to join me.

Consider yourself invited!


"Your love, O Lord, reaches to the heavens,
your faithfulness to the skies.
Your righteousness is like the mighty mountains,
your justice like the great deep. 
O Lord, you preserve both man and beast.
How priceless is your unfailing love!
Both high and low among men 
find refuge in the shadow of your wings.
They feast on the abundance of your house;
you give them drink from your river of delights.
For with you is the fountain of life;
in your light we see light."
Psalm 36:5-9


Thursday, December 1, 2022

Low-Key Advent

"Shine On Us" Song lyrics by Phillips, Craig and Dean

Advent--the season leading up to Christmas--is the darkest time of the year. Low key photography is a technique that emphasizes shadow, so that only a small portion of the image is illuminated. The two make an interesting pair.  This year, I decided to do something about it.

I've always loved the practice of honoring the season of waiting before the celebration of Jesus's coming on Christmas.  It's a season of hope.  The Bible is filled from beginning to end with references to light and darkness, in a way that points forward to Jesus in the Old Testament, and affirms him as the Light of the World in the New Testament. From the perspective of my faith in Jesus, I always want to come to him by setting down my agenda, and looking for him to show me his.  My guiding photography question has always been, "What does the light want to show me?" If you've known me for long, you know there's a parallel to a spiritual question that I'm always asking, "What does the Light--Jesus--want to show me?"

I took the risk of inviting people to join a photography project with me for Advent--to look for light in the darkness.  It's a step of faith, because I have to trust that there's going to be some light.  I have to believe that those who open themselves to looking will find it.  And as I look around my home (where I spend the most time in the winter), I have to admit that I'm prone to thinking the lights are pretty predictable, that I'm not likely to discover anything new.  I'll have to let it come to me.  But I've been doing this long enough that I've found it will.

Faith is like that.  Jesus taught us to pray, "Give us this day our daily bread."  Hope isn't bringing our agenda to him and asking him to give us what we want (and believing he will/should if we say it right, do it right, get it right).  Hope is believing that somehow, today, he will show up and be with us, and that it will make a difference.

A couple of comments I've gotten from participants in the first two days:

"This was not the picture I intended.  I turned off the lights and planned to take one of my tree, but this is the pattern my tree makes on my ceiling and I was just mesmerized by it."

(In response to my comment about his very cool abstract photo) "I'm just looking for the light. It's been hard to find lately, metaphorically."

Amen.  Come Lord Jesus.  Show us what you're up to in the world.