Peripheral Visions

January 11, 2023

“If one finds a rock boring, it’s not the rock’s fault.” (Attributed to Zen proverb)

During August, 2021, Norah and I spent a week at a rented beach house on mid-coast Maine.  One afternoon, while scrambling among rocks strewn along the beach, I was attacked by hordes of black flies.  I found a breezy refuge on a large promontory boulder that overlooked the pounding surf.  Though my temporary perch must have weighed well over a ton, it rocked gently but perceptibly as waves advanced and receded.  Gazing across the horizon, I was lulled into a meditative reverie. Turns out that my beach house was built on a fragment of a proto-continent called Avalonia, which originated well below the equator almost a billion years ago.  

“Deep time” is a term sometimes applied to how we conceive of geological timescales like the Earth’s lifespan.  When considered from the perspective of Earth’s 4.6 billion year existence, our species’ 300,000 year span seems vanishingly brief.  It can be challenging for us humans to grasp time periods longer than few thousand years. 

On the contrary, with smart phones and social media, we have become accustomed to the ever-shrinking present moment.  Moreover, our economic system explicitly discounts the future.  Given our societal attention deficit disorder, I wanted to create a slideshow offering viewers an opportunity to slow down and perhaps expand their conception of time.  If we see ourselves as more connected to both past and future, I thought we might care about becoming good ancestors.

Focusing on Avalonia, I thought I could trace a semi-linear trajectory from its inception. However, the complexity of tectonic plate movements over the same period disabused me of any illusion that my slideshow could depict Avalonia’s actual trajectory.  In the following animation, for example, land masses appear to be performing an intricate organic dance rather than a geologic process:

The evolution of Earth’s tectonic plates over the past billion years - Bing video

One way to imagine deep time is through metaphor.  The slideshow offers a series of visual metaphors for paleogeographic events that occurred up to one billion years ago. 

Since my subject is how a piece of land came to be located where it is, I wanted to acknowledge the people who were there first.  It turns out that there is significant overlap between Avalonian geology in New England and the ancestral homeland of the Abenaki (which translates as People of the Dawn Land, for occupying a far eastern point in North America).  The arrival of explorers and colonists spelled the decline of the Abenaki in Maine, though organized communities remain in Vermont and Canada.

Once I learned about the Abenaki’s creation stories, I realized that they offer an interesting counterpoint to the paleogeographical creation story of the region.  The latter is based on scientific theory and evidence, which accumulates over time. Whereas the traditional creation story embodies a type of wisdom based on living on and with the land for thousands of years.  Moreover, Abenaki stories hold moral messages that are relevant to non-indigenous audiences. 

In her book “Braiding Sweetgrass”, Robin Wall Kimmerer (botany professor and member of the Potawatamie Nation) writes: “Same species, same earth, different stories. Cosmologies are a source of identity and orientation to the world.  They tell us who we are.  We are inevitably shaped by them no matter how distant they may be from our consciousness.” However, I am sensitive to who is eligible to even present such stories.  Accordingly, I hope to establish contact with Abenaki representatives and the broader Wabanaki Confederation. 

January 25, 2021

Who Will Put the Brakes on Sliding Toward Political Entropy?

“Do not laugh at one who foresees in the region of the visible the revolution that has already occurred in the invisible domain of the spirit. Thought precedes action as lightning precedes thunder.”   -- Heinrich Hein, 1834

On January 6th, the Capitol building, iconic symbol of our republic’s rule-of-law, was over-run by an angry crowd convinced that the 2020 Presidential election had been stolen, despite overwhelming evidence and logic to the contrary. Since that storming, the disorganized piles of Capitol Stones have come to remind me of risks posed to our democratic system when both elected leaders and constituents fail to nurture it. Our political system is built to accommodate a wide range of opinions, judgements and interpretations, but not disagreements about the nature of demonstrable reality. Of the different possible ways for a society to organize itself, a democratic system depends the most on its constituents subscribing to at least similar realities.

Earth Day, 2020

Amid the immense physical, economic, and social suffering caused by the COVID pandemic, this strange lockdown has created an unprecedented (and time-sensitive) opportunity to see our lives and our world through fresh eyes.  The language of war, often deployed by politicians, elevates a speck of DNA to “our hidden enemy.”  Though it may be emotionally-satisfying, such language discourages self-reflection. Yet, besides teaching our species’ immune systems to produce antibodies, COVID offers other learning if we let it.  

While remaining sheltered at home and practice distancing, we may have access to more mental space than before or afterwards for taking stock.  Sooner or later, depending on where we live, COVID-related restrictions on our behavior will be loosened.  It may be as early as next month in some places.  Before our minds and lives become re-cluttered, I invite myself and readers to reflect on two questions.

First, what aspects of my life have changed in ways I did not anticipate, but which I would like to retain post-pandemic? 

Of course, answers to this question differ for everyone.  For me, they include:

• The sky seems bluer from the lack of pollution, and the sounds of nature (i.e. birds chirping) are more noticeable from the
  lack of traffic noise.

• Walking in my neighborhood has become more pleasant because of the lack of traffic.  As a pedestrian, I am no longer
  relegated to the sidewalk’s narrow space.

• I am connecting with more frequently with friends and family near and far, even if frustratingly not in person. 

• Segments of society who provide essential services at some risk to themselves (health care providers, food
  providers, garbage collectors, delivery workers, etc.) have moved into the forefront of our society.

Without wishing in any way to minimize the extensive suffering caused by the pandemic, some unexpected changes have made me more grateful for the fragile gift of our blue planet, more appreciative of those workers who typically operate in the background of my life, more connected with my community, more aware of my need for real contact with other humans, and more aware of my privilege.

The pandemic has exposed characteristics of our society that were previously obscured or unconsciously accepted.  Thus, the second question is — which of these characteristics would I prefer be retained and which would I prefer be discarded forever? 

To start with some positive characteristics:

• I have become reminded of our capacity for individual acts of kindness, compassion, leadership, and courage by people in all walks of life.

• People are paying attention to science, and demonstrating cooperation and resilience in response to unprecedented behavioral restrictions.

• Many politicians have demonstrated their capacity (albeit atrophied through lack of use) to rise above partisan tribalism and act in the public interest. Some even treat us like adults who are capable of accepting some degree of shared sacrifice.

• Businesses have demonstrated a sense of responsibility toward the communities in which they operate.

If retained, such characteristics could help form building blocks for a positive post-pandemic society.  

On the other hand, there are several aspects of the pre-pandemic world that have been exposed to which I really don’t want to return.  For example:

•   An economy dependent on consumer spending (~70% of GDP), significantly more than in other advanced economies.

•   A society in which people lose their health coverage when they lose their job.

•   Structural inequities in which many workers still on the job are not paid anything close to a wage that reflects roles that are both deemed “essential” and put them at personal risk.

•   Despite our country’s wealth, an unwillingness to make those investments that underpin sustainable growth and provide adequate safety nets (e.g. physical and digital infrastructure, schools, health systems, food systems, environment and natural resources).

•  A willingness to steal wealth and life quality from future generations for the sake of the current generation, whether the
  intergenerational theft involves paying for yawning federal deficits or a disrupted climate.

I could go on...

So why do I encourage reflection on the above two questions before the lockdown is lifted?  Politicians are feeling immense (and understandable) pressure from the public to return to the familiar pre-pandemic state (Make America Ok Again)  Our political leaders and economic masters are soon going to encourage us to help jumpstart the economy.  Like amnesiac hamsters jumping back on the wheel, we will be asked to do our patriotic bit by switching on our roles as pent up consumers.  And we are emotionally susceptible to such messages because to varying degrees, we all have been experiencing stress, hardship, anxiety about the future, not to mention illness and death.  Shoving this experience into a forgotten corner of our consciousness would be seductive.  

But maybe, like me, your vision of a post-pandemic world differs from the status quo that we previously inhabited.  For those of us privileged enough to even have the space to imagine a different world, we should commit ourselves to holding in the light all that this strange period has laid bare, good and bad. To paraphrase the Cheshire Cat, “If you don’t know where you are going, any road can take you there.” 

March 1, 2020

“What about attention as a property with varying qualities, as different from its function as a learned ability?  Many have said: you are your attention.  What you pay attention to, you become.  Certainly, photography at its root, relates
directly to where we choose give our attention. We could say that attention both serves and heightens consciousness itself….  Through photography, we cannot help but become more attentive to and conscious of both the dynamics of self and the realities of life.  Photography demands that we
look inward and outward simultaneously. The degree to which we can delve within ourselves – to witness and know our very personal characteristics and those we share with all others – is the degree to which we can see and know the world.” 

From Zen Camera by David Ulrich

As I noted in a previous blog, in 2019 I organized a photography contest for local teenagers.  It culminated in a reception, exhibit, and award ceremony at the Takoma Park Community Center. I handed out cash prizes to budding photographers, some of whom reminded
me of my awkward and introverted self at that tender age.  Given the current pace of teenage life, especially with cell phone cameras and social media, one of my goals in putting on the contest was to stimulate “attention” among young people similar to the way that Ulrich describes.  I was modestly successful in this goal.  Some entries exhibited a greater sense than others of the photographer looking inward and outward simultaneously.  To see what I mean, go to: https://www.instagram.com/tpssvisionscontest/.

For me, the ability to first sense/recognize a subject’s internal energy and then find a way to represent it photographically
poses a daunting but worthwhile lifelong challenge.  I am someone who has processed visual and other sensory input mostly in my head for most of my life.  Only recently have I become reacquainted with the intelligence/consciousness residing in my body below the neck.  It remains to be seen the extent to which I have the photographic skill to bring my emerging “heart intelligence” in my work.  Wish me luck!

June 26, 2019

As mentioned in my bio, photography became an important part of my life starting in middle school.  Earlier this year, I decided to try to return the favor by organizing a photography contest for local teens (see www.tpssvisionscontest.org), with an overall theme of “community”.  I am especially interested in attracting teens who might not otherwise think of themselves as creative or artistic.

Photographs are expressions of our natural impulse to hold onto something that is meaningful to us – an event, a place, a moment.  Memories shape our identity and looking at photographs can help.  Still, so much has changed in photographic technology and the act of photography since I was a teen.  Digital photography can actually devalue memory.  When we take photographs now, it is so fast and easy.  One risk of digital photography, especially with cell phones, is that we are replacing real memories with digital images that we are more than likely never to look at again.  In one study, on a guided tour of a museum, study participants took pictures of some exhibits but not others. On a memory test a few days later, the people from the tour performed more poorly for the items that they took pictures of.  Taking a photo led to worse recollection — we outsource our ability to recall.  In combination with social media, digital photography also risks replacing real relationships and human experiences with virtual ones.

My hope is that, in a small way, the contest will counter this tendency and encourage participants to become more mindful about photography.  Stay tuned.

January 15, 2019

Since its inception, photographers have sought to bring viewers into their vision of reality, if only through selective composition.  Modern digital post-production processing, however, has raised legitimate questions about what is actually a photograph and viewers rightly wonder about the authenticity of what they see.  The verb “Photoshopped” has taken on a negative connotation as a technique to trick viewers into falsely believing that the image accurately represents what was seen by the photographer. 

From the start of my interest in photography, I have been drawn to edgy or playful subject matter.  I became a devotee of Jerry Uelsmann, who pioneered photomontage techniques in his darkroom often using images from multiple negatives.  In high school, I experimented with sandwiching two negatives together to make double exposures.

I don’t want visitors to my site to be or feel manipulated.  So to be upfront, most images shown will have been adjusted to some degree (after being taken) for color balance, intensity, contrast, and exposure. Moreover, I do sometimes experiment with techniques that transform the composition. For example, in one current exhibit, I make long exposures with a handheld camera to convey a sense of motion or energy.  In another current exhibit, I use an in-camera reflection tool through which I can compose mirrored images in the LCD monitor.  I will inform viewers when images in an exhibit has been altered such that the integrity of the subject or composition is affected.

June 26, 2019

As mentioned in my bio, photography became an important part of my life starting in middle school. Earlier this year, I decided to try to return the favor by organizing a photography contest for local teens (see www.tpssvisionscontest.org), with an overall theme of “community”. I am especially interested in attracting teens who might not otherwise think of themselves as creative or artistic.

Photographs are expressions of our natural impulse to hold onto something that is meaningful to us – an event, a place, a moment.  Memories shape our identity and looking at photographs can help. Still, so much has changed in photographic technology and the act of photography since I was a teen. Digital photography can actually devalue memory.  When we take photographs now, it is so fast and easy.  One risk of digital photography, especially with cell phones, is that we are replacing real memories with digital images that we are more than likely never to look at again.  In one study, on a guided tour of a museum, study participants took pictures of some exhibits but not others. On a memory test a few days later, the people from the tour performed more poorly for the items that they took pictures of.  Taking a photo led to worse recollection — we outsource our ability to recall.  In combination with social media, digital photography also risks replacing real relationships and human experiences with virtual ones.

My hope is that, in a small way, the contest will counter this tendency and encourage participants to become more mindful about photography. Stay tuned.