There is no need to cling to anything

Arise from sleep, old cat,
   And with great yawns
   And stretchings...
Amble out for love

Naito Joso

I woke up screaming in the middle of the night. Somehow, my cat had extended a sharp claw into the back of my neck. I looked back at the pillow to see her lounging where my head had been and it made me mad. I pushed her away and off the bed.

By morning, she was back at my side, attempting to lick my face, like always. She had no idea what she had done. I sighed and reached out to stroke her chin, my anger gone.

There is a cat, little Melba, at the Austin Zen Center, who loves to sit in the middle of the street. Cars come up to her and wait. Sometimes she moves. Sometimes the cars go around her. Whatever. She doesn't mind. Extend a hand or even kneel to take a picture and she will see you and want to talk. She is not bashful about expressing her desire for affection. I love this about her.

Gonna go back in time

The 70's weren't that long ago, you know. Okay. So, maybe they kind of were... But, not really. Not in my mind anyway.

Sarah Wilson, one of my favorite bloggers, recently posted some sweet photos of her family from the 70's and I immediately recognized the yellowish milky tint, the unmistakable clothes and just the feel of them. And she grew up oceans away in Australia (yay Aussies!)!

Granted, only a short part of my formative years were spent in the 70's - I spent most of my childhood in the 80's - however, I just love looking at these old photos and remembering the scratchy, multi-colored couch we had in the living room, playing in the wheat fields outside our house and wearing matching outfits with my twin sister. And, I'm pretty sure all of these were taken by my dad - a budding photographer himself in those days (now that I think of it, these were probably taken with his Canon AE-1).

What about you? Do have any old photos from the 70's and 80's? What do they look like? Feel free to share a link in the comments! 

And if you get a chance, check out Irina Werning's awesome photo project, Back to the Future.

The importance of simply sleeping in

Photo mojo. Yes, there is such a thing. For me, anyway. And this past weekend I lost it. I didn't want to go out, I didn't want to face the crowds in downtown Austin for SXSW and had little to no energy to think about taking photos. 

So I slept in and relaxed. A lot. Which I really needed, apparently. While cozying into my couch, moping and thinking, ohmygod how am I ever going to take another photo ever again, I came across this adorable video about a little girl who goes around taking photos of her favorite things. Quite simple really.

And that's all it took. My photo mojo was sparked once again.

I took out a pen and started listing my favorite things. Here are a few.

My cat, Katie. This cat...drives me crazy sometimes. She will immediately lick any limb or finger that happens to poke out from underneath the sheets in the morning. And most of the time it is very, very early in the morning. Any time I sit down, my lap is considered fair game. And my couch is, for the most part, her scratching post. But for being such a tiny creature, this cat has the biggest heart and is constantly asking me to open mine. I think about the day when she will pass on and it makes me love her all the more. She is my little partner in crime and we look out for each other.

(And I realize how silly it is to list my cat as a thing. Know that I think more of her than that. But not having her on this list felt strange. So. There. She is just...my favorite.)

Mobiles. I purchased this one in Costa Rica after searching the markets in San Jose for one that was handmade (many of them look alike). It was my last day in Costa Rica and I had popped into a restaurant that I thought was not Costa Rican. All I wanted was something other than a meal with rice and beans or casado. Which is delicious, don't get me wrong. But I had been eating casado in some form or another almost every day for two weeks. Of course, the restaurant I popped into turned out to be traditional Costa Rican and I ended up with a plate full of...more casado. So, I shrugged my shoulders, grabbed my fork and relished every bite.

Stripes. I can't explain my obsession with stripes. I just know that I love them and they make me happy.

Windchimes. My sister moved into a new house last year. In order to make it feel more like home, she put up windchimes and twinkling lights. Growing up we had several windchimes outside our house that made beautiful sounds every time a thunderstorm blew in or the wind picked up. Personally, I own only one or two, but I love buying them for my sister and seeing them every time I visit her.

Some of my other favorite things:

Yellow cake with chocolate frosting
Red wine
Butterscotch candies
Men's forearms
This is Just to Say by William Carlos Williams
Fresh bread
The smell of soap and skin

What are some of your favorite things?

Shine

It's spring in Austin. Which means SXSW, warmer weather and no more pantyhose (which admittedly, can be fun, but after leaving DC, I wear only sparingly...thank god).

It also means that everything goes from looking like this:

To looking like this:

Exciting, no?

It also means, my birthday is coming up (eek!).

But first, a Star Party with my friend Hilda, a much anticipated trip to San Francisco and a long overdue haircut.

How are you celebrating spring?

(Currently listening to, Shine, by one of my favorite artists, Ulrich Schnauss, along with gorgeous images of the night sky.)

Keep on looking

The virtue of the camera is not the power it has to transform the photographer into an artist, but the impulse it gives him to keep on looking.

Brooks Anderson

Lately, I can't stop staring at the sky. It seems bigger and brighter somehow (and this is Texas!). Or maybe I just haven't been paying attention?

This past weekend I returned to the Wild Basin Wilderness Preserve to see how Spring was coming along. In the back of my mind I wondered, what am I going to photograph? I've already been here once before. But that's the funny thing about photography. You could visit the same place a thousand times over and find something new with each visit. It is never the same.

And, you know, it's refreshing to find myself surprised by a new perspective.

Or even just a sweet moment. 

What's surprising you these days?

You have to say something

"Hi, my name is Robin. I originally came to Zen meditation because I wanted to find a sense of peace."

Wait. What? No. That is not what I wanted to say. But it's too late. Damnit.

I'm teaching meditation instruction for the first time, so I have to say something. But I don't know why I had to say that. I did not come to meditation practice to find peace. I came to meditation practice because I was stressed the hell out and nothing else, aside from a little Tai Chi and Qigong, seemed to help.

I pause for a moment, because I feel inclined to remind everyone in the class that they are okay, just the way they are. That they are just fine. But I don't say it. I'm still not 100% sure I believe it about myself (though I definitely feel it more than I used to). Still, I want to reassure them that mistakes are okay. In fact, mistakes are welcomed. How else do we learn? Or open our hearts? Or remember who we really are?

I spend 30 minutes just telling them how to sit down. Because it is that important. Which probably freaks them out a little, but that's okay. It did me too. I'm talking a mile a minute, even though I don't mean to (it's just nerves). Until I start talking about settling the mind. And this helps me to settle mine.

But, this is the part that can start to sound esoteric and mysterious. So, I try to keep it as practical and down to earth as I possibly can. If you've never worked with your own mind, having someone instruct you on how to work with your mind can seem really weird. But, you've got to start somewhere, right?

I quickly squash the misconception that Zen meditation is about blissing out. I probably disappoint half the room when I tell them this. I remind them to be kind, patient and gentle with themselves. I remind them to come back to the breath and return to the present moment again and again and again (and again). Which, admittedly, they will not really learn how to do until a few months from now (if they keep practicing), but I do not tell them this either.

Before I know it, our time is up - time to send them on their way. There's nothing left to do but thank them for being here and wish them the best in their practice. And I do.

Flowers in February & Cake on a Plate

Flowers in February. What an odd and unusual occurrance. But what a great opportunity for me! I got a new lens - a 50mm 1.8, for the curious. I wanted the 1.4, but I just don't have the moolah/bucks/lettuce/what-have-you for that right now (it's about $400. I know. Breaks my heart too...).

So, I had a choice: buy some new clothes or buy a new lens. I hope these jeans don't wear out on me anytime soon...

But look at this! Look at how sharp... Crazy, right?

This one, well, did not turn out so sharp. But I still love it, imperfections and all.

This is not a flower. It is a (large) piece of chocolate cake! I just through threw this in for fun, because, I mean look at it. Does this not make you want to lick the screen? (it was delicious by the way)

Enjoy the flowers, if there are flowers where you are. Enjoy some cake too, if you can get your hands on some...

I'm still on a Lamb kick. I'm not sure how long this will last, but this song is currently stuck in my head: She Walks (video).

Into the Trees

Wake, butterfly -
It's late, we've miles
To go together.

~ Matsuo Basho

When I was younger, I had a dream where I visited every tree I had ever known from my childhood. In college, when I was upset (which was a lot), I found solace by sitting underneath the trees on campus.

Trees are powerful creatures. Make no mistake - they are alive.

I dread the day when the two oldest trees in the backyard of the home I grew up in die. They have been trimmed and cared for by my father and their trunks have bulged out. The one with the low branches - the one my sister and I used to climb - sits wide open to the sky, still approachable. The one with the high branches - the one my sister and I wanted to climb, but could never reach - still sits tall, only slightly giving in to gravity and the passing of time.
 
What surprises me, though, are the younger trees. They are now tall too. And they fill the yard and almost touch each other (if you only knew how barren our little acre was back then - an acre my sister and I grudgingly mowed and weeded in the hot Texas sun). The little oak tree we inherited from my grandmother is now massive and the pear trees (the ones we thought wouldn't make it) bear so much fruit the branches hang down almost to the ground.

The home I grew up in is now covered in trees. Somehow, I find this comforting.

The heart speaks

Meditation retreats are fabulous. However, almost everyone is at their happiest when they are over. It was no different this past weekend when a group of us gathered together to meditate and meet with the honorable Tenshin Reb Anderson.

Don't get me wrong. Meditation retreats are not bad. I mean, we sign up for these things. We willingly participate in them. We willingly sit and stare at a wall (or, in my case, someone else's feet), work with our minds and examine the habits and thoughts that bring us suffering. We are fully aware of what we are getting ourselves into (for the most part). We are also fully aware of how intense and exhausting this can be.

So, when a retreat is over, people get excited. The sky seems brighter, people seem shinier, plants look greener and our hearts can feel wide open.

Luckily, I had my camera at the end of this retreat and was able to capture some of the excitement, as well as, some of those lovely wide open hearts and faces.

Like this one of Reb.

My teacher, Kosho.

My silly friend Dwight.

And of course, the whole group (minus me, because I was taking the picture).

No matter who you are, what your beliefs or your situation in life, may you be happy and free of suffering.

Crazy in love (or maybe just crazy)

No one else really seemed to notice. Except for a little boy, who quickly hid behind some rose bushes the moment I saw him. He slowly poked his head out and eyed my polaroid camera with curiosity and a little suspicion. He looked up at me and smiled. I smiled back. And then he jumped out and ran off to look for his mother.

My polaroid sx-70 camera is...not like other cameras. It's light brown and silver. Somewhat large when unfolded. And noisy. The shutter makes an unmistakable popping noise. I love it. But I'm also frustrated with this new love of mine.

The film is extremely sensitive. Only a few of the photos I took in the rose bushes at the Zilker Botanical Gardens last weekend turned out. On most of them, the chemicals ran down and bled into the image.  A few turned out overexposed. One even turned out all white. Was it too cold? Did I not put them in my pocket fast enough? Is my beloved camera shoddy? I don't know.

Photos I took with my plastic polaroid camera last year look much better by comparison.

Which makes me a little sad.

But I'm not ready to give up just yet.

Perhaps my fascination (*cough* obsession) with polaroids seems a little strange. But the look of polaroids has completely won me over. Not to mention, I am inspired by the passion and engineering that goes into the making of the film (talk about chemical precision!) and the energy that went into the design of the original cameras themselves. Simply remarkable.

I'll try out a few more packs and see how things go. It's expensive, though. So, maybe I will just take my time with this little experiment...

Are you looking for polaroid film? Check out The Impossible Project.

Interested in dusting off that old polaroid from the attic? Read Susannah Conway's lovely guide, The Art of the Polaroid.

Don't have an old polaroid camera to dust off and looking to buy? Check out this very helpful video on what to look for when shopping for a polaroid camera.

Old enough to be your father

Sometimes, life surprises me. An unexpected turn of events left me with a free Saturday afternoon. So. Despite feeling mildly under the weather, I packed up my new Polaroid ("Pola") and my digital camera and marched out the front door in search of photos.

I ended up at the Zilker Botanical Gardens, because, oddly enough, there are flowers blooming right now.

I went through all of my polaroids in the rose garden, then tucked them away to let them develop. I pulled out my digital, you know, just as a back up - just in case the polaroids didn't turn out (they didn't - not really, but that's another story).

Holding my digital again felt familiar and delicious and I completely lost myself taking photos.

I got lost in the roses.

And found myself completely smitten with a bed of faery-like purple flowers.

Then, by complete accident, I stumbled upon a young girl looking through an old cabin replica from the 1800s.

These photos were made all the more lovely by applying a vintage-y preset or Photoshop action I discovered on Angie Muldowney's site (thank you!). I am currently obsessed with presets (and vintage photographs). I typically do a minimal amount of post-processing, but it can still be time-consuming. Presets are, quite frankly, a godsend.

AND they are totally and completely fueling my vintage obsession. Yay!

Is it just a phase? Who knows. But I'm definitely enjoying it...

In which I say no to a psychic and face an uncertain future

I was offered a reading by a very kind and highly regarded psychic recently. But I turned it down. Her conditions? Reasonable. But I just couldn't bring myself to agree to them.

This got me thinking, why do I really want a psychic reading anyway? What's really behind that?

At first, it was a desire to be seen. Which was quickly followed by the white hot fear of being seen.

Then, it was a desire to know. Because I have so many questions. Will I ever fall in love again? Will I ever make peace with my pain? Will I live a long life? Will I ever forgive myself for all the stupid things I've said and done?

It would be really nice to have a little certainty around these things, a clear path, or a loud and resounding YES!

Or would it?

Truth is, I already have an answer for these questions. It's a big fat "I don't know."

And for the first time in my life, I'm almost okay with this. I say almost because I'm sitting right in the (extremely uncomfortable) middle of completely accepting not knowing and being totally freaked out by not knowing. In this state, it's very tempting for me to think that knowing the answers to my questions will bring me peace and happiness. But. Then what?

What do you think? Would you want to know your future? Would it change anything?

On being grateful (and giddy)

I've been checking the mail obsessively, waiting for this little guy. Each day, I was met with an empty mailbox or simply a mailbox full of unsolicited mailings from all the nonprofits I've worked with (I love you!).

But Friday, I came home and the wait was over. There it was on my doorstep, wrapped up neatly in a little brown box: my new old Polaroid SX-70.

And then today: the film arrived (!).

I can't explain why this makes me so giddy. It just does. It's completely impractical. The film is around $21 a pack. And that's only 8 photos. The camera (which I've affectionately nicknamed Pola) is impeccably designed and engineered, but is clunky and huge compared to today's standards.

But maybe that's why I like it so much. It doesn't have to meet today's standards - it has a standard all its own.

In other news, I had the wonderful opportunity to meet and visit with one of my fellow bloggers, Christine Young, this past weekend. I introduced her to Bouldin Creek Cafe, a fabulous vegetarian coffeehouse here in Austin, and we gabbed about photography, social media, art and again, photography. It's nice to be able to talk shop sometimes.

Speaking of... I've up and joined Karen Walrond's Gratitude 2012. I highly recommend it. The idea is to develop a gratitude practice through photography - an idea and practice that resonates deeply with me. And... 40% of the subscription fee is donated to Kiva. How awesome is that? Photography for the greater good. Hell yeah.

While we're on the subject, what are you grateful for? What makes your life beautiful?

Gently

I was late. Luckily, my yoga teacher saw me through the window and let me in before locking the door.

"I'm so sorry!" I said.

"It's okay. We were just yakkin." She closed the door and invited me to come in and get settled.

I was prepared for a workout. Lately, yoga has been kicking my ass. But today, my teacher announced, we were going to have a low-key class, a mostly yin class, or restorative yoga. I could have hugged her.

But. Sometimes a restorative class is more difficult than a regular yoga class.

Why?

Because it invites total relaxation. Which isn't easy for me. Inevitably, in any restorative class, I tear up simply from letting go of all the tension I carry around with me. Today was no different. As I lay there, overwhelmed by the feeling of relief, tears rolled off my face and onto the floor. Luckily, no one in this class is the least bit perturbed by tears.

After drying my eyes and moving through several more postures, my teacher introduced us to a Kundalini chant, called Protecting the Heart, Projecting the Heart.

You may think I've gone off the deep end. You may think, oh no, Robin's gone all yoga-y. But it was the sweetest, gentlest and most loving chant I'd ever heard.

It got me thinking...that maybe I am not gentle enough. With myself. With everyone. Gentleness is so underrated and undervalued. Why is that?

I wish to be just a little gentler. I wish this for you too. May your life be a little gentler today.

(This marvelous song is playing as I write this: Another Language by Lamb)

A Genuine Life

 

What would your life be like if you turned down all the noise? And by noise I mean, all the inner chatter your brain pumps out on a daily basis (because that's just what brains do). You don't have to believe everything you think.

Do you believe we are all good? All bad? What do you believe?

I read an article today, called How To Live A Genuine Life. I wish everyone could read this just once.

~

My Zen teacher asked me if I would consider teaching Beginner's meditation instruction. I didn't hesitate. I said, I would be honored and delighted.

And then I jokingly asked, Does this mean I am elightened now?

He raised an eyebrow and smiled. You know we're all enlightened, right? We just forget sometimes.

I forget a lot.

Confidence

Crappy photos. Why do they happen?

Sometimes, it's just that kind of day. That's okay. And quite normal. Sometimes, you just don't know enough. And that's okay too. Taking a lot of photographs - often crappy photographs - is one of the best ways to learn.

But sometimes, it comes down to one show-stopping four letter word: fear.

You know it. I know it. A lot of photographers know it. Which is why I am grateful that I recently stumbled upon The Shy Photographer's Guide to Confidence.

It's pretty simple. The key to taking great photographs is confidence. But if you don't have much of that and you are ruled by fear, shooting can be a struggle.

I have been shy for as long as I can remember. It's really only in the past ten years that I've slowly, painfully and awkwardly emerged from my shell. Nowadays, I feel relatively confident, but there are still times when being around a lot of people or in a new place can fill me with terror.

Fortunately, confidence is contagious and it can grow. A lack of it doesn't have to define you for the rest of your life. Thank God! Because I still have so much I want to do and experience.

What about you? Do you struggle with shyness? If so, what do you do to overcome your anxiety?

Warmth

It's January, but it feels like spring here in Austin. I'm taking advantage of our recent bout of warm weather by leaving the back door open, strolling around barefoot, going for long walks and exploring nearby parks (with my camera, of course).

The year is looking up. The cold will be back, I'm sure, but that's okay. Meanwhile...sunshine...