I didn't know whether to laugh or wince when I read a recent post by blogger/photographer Ruth Daly, titled "You might have a problem with photography if . . ." The post listed twenty signs that photography is taking over your life. I had to admit, quite a few items on the list applied to me. Okay, nearly all applied, but particularly on-point were such signs as "You've lost track of how many times you've burnt breakfast/lunch/dinner because you 'just popped outside for a minute to take a photograph' " and "You realize your blog posts have gradually become heavier on photographs than writing." Too true! And just when I was on the verge of doing another all-photo blog post. But as I considered Ruth's list and how easy it is to become consumed with an activity that once was just an occasional pastime, I started thinking more generally about passions. When and how does an interest become a passion? When does a passion become an obsession? How can we nurture our passions without going overboard? I'm something of a serial passion-cultivator. In the course of my adult life, I've gotten all wrapped in an ever-shifting string of engrossments: alternative education, horticulture and botany, dance, insects, science writing, motorcycling, memoir writing, yoga and now photography. Each of these preoccupations started with a glimmer of interest that grew into a near-magnetic fascination with anything and everything related to the topic or activity. Before we get into how interests evolve into passions, let's think for a minute about what, exactly, distinguishes an interest from a passion. LEGO enthusiast Paul B put this way on a LEGO forum (and by the way, did you even know there were LEGO forums?): An interest is "something you choose to do when you have a little spare time." A passion is "something that you consider fundamental to your life." He went on to use this fishing analogy:
By that standard, writing is clearly a passion for me. There have been times when I've tried to do less of it, to make room for other things in my life, but writing feels so essential to my being, I have to keep coming back to it. A glance at the magazines stashed beneath my coffee table reveals that fully half of them are about writing; I belong to a writers' group; I blow my vacation budget traveling to writers' conferences; and I plan my days around my writing time. Yep, it's a passion. It was the same with motorcycling. I devoured motorcycle magazines and books, belonged to a women's motorcycle club and rode as often as I possibly could. What's more, with both writing and motorcycling, as well as most of my other passions, I've experienced an intense desire to learn more and keep improving my skills. That, some people say, is what tips the balance from interest to passion. Writing on the knowledge platform Quora, Justin Tan, founder of the I'd Hike That online community and apparel store, puts it this way: "The biggest difference between a passion and an interest is when you deliberately develop a mindset to improve . . . Having that mindset and desire, plus doing it every day is what separates a passion [from] an interest." That mindset, however, can lead to a kind of tension that turns a relaxing hobby into a drive. Photographer Danny Santos II wrote about this phenomenon on his blog, Shooting Strangers. "When I started photography out of interest, it was all hunky dory. I was a kid with a new toy discovering new possibilities. But pretty quickly, I've grown easily unimpressed with my own shots." His dissatisfaction led to an almost frantic desire to get better and better shots, which, in turn, led him to spend more and more time taking photographs. A comment from a speaker at an alumni association meeting session on finding your passion summed up precisely what Santos had been feeling as his interest in photography shifted to something more intense: Passion exists when attraction is coupled with friction. At its most positive, friction keeps the interest fresh. But sometimes, friction is a sign that passion has turned to obsession. That's what happened to me with motorcycling. I loved it so much, I didn't want to do anything else. I found myself turning down invitations to really fun events that might cut into my riding time. I resented commitments I had to keep on days that were perfect for riding. I saw less of my non-riding friends. Other interests languished. As much as I adored riding, I realized my obsession with it was creating discontent and diminishing my life. Eventually, I came to see that I could still enjoy riding if it was part of a suite of pleasurable activities, not the only one. The funny thing was, I probably rode just as much as before, but I found I could also be happy when I wasn't riding. Now, when I find myself getting immersed in an activity, I try not to let it interfere with the rest of my life. Which brings me back to Ruth Daly's post on photography. After reading it, I asked myself, Do I have a "problem" with photography? Not yet. Right now, it's a pleasant pastime. I pore over photography magazines and books; I practice almost daily, in an attempt to improve. But I'm not turning down invitations to make time for my passion. I will admit, though, I'm really happy when those invitations take me somewhere I can bring my camera. What are your passions? When did you know they were more than mere interests?
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I confess: Last week got a little not-busy-but-full (see my riff on that linguistic distinction from a few weeks ago), and my writing time got compressed to the point of near disappearance. I did somehow find time to get out and play with my cameras, though. So instead of inundating you with more words this week, I thought we'd take a break and look at pictures together. Less verbiage, more visuals. Here are some shots from my springtime rambles. I hope you enjoy them. WARNING: If you're not a fan of legless things that slither, skip photo #21 (right after the yellow lady slipper orchid) What are your favorite signs of spring?
In January, Ray and I spent a delightful hour or so viewing the latest work of photographer Tim Motley at an exhibit and reception at Artsplace in Fremont. Tim, who has made a living as a commercial photographer for thirty-seven years, recently changed direction to concentrate on fine art abstract photography. As I listened to Tim discussing his inspirations and techniques with gallery visitors, it occurred to me that HeartWood readers might also be interested in what he had to say. Though I had already peppered him with questions the night of the reception, he graciously agreed to answer still more questions for this Q&A. I'm always fascinated when someone who's been successful following one path decides to take a chance and turn a different direction. You mentioned that your shift from commercial photography to fine art photography was something you'd been thinking about for a while. What made you decide it was the right time to make the move? It was one of those things where you're kind of gently pushed. I started out in fashion in back in the eighties, moved into high-end weddings, and then when the economy went down, my weddings went from fifty a year to four. Because of the economy and so many other photographers out there, I decided to go into fine art world. I had done some fine art work back in the nineties, but it really didn't go anywhere. This body of abstract work that I'm doing now, I'm very motivated to get it out there, get into galleries and museums. I look at this as my legacy. Was your previous fine art work similar in any way to the work you're doing now? It was very different. Quite a bit of it was travel photography—a lot of images from Italy. The rest of it was just fine-art things that I'd shot off and on through the years, like Tibetan monks. I have photographed events all my life, and after a while, with the events, I started getting little fine art pieces. And in the nineties, I was in an artist's co-op. We had a gallery in South Haven and we all sold our artwork. That kind of dried up when my weddings took over. Where did the initial idea for this new work come from? About three years ago, I was photographing a dance rehearsal. I was starting to get really bored with it, because the dancers would get up and move around, and then they'd sit down and talk about it. You could be there for four hours without much happening. So I started shooting abstracts of the dancers in the dance studio under fluorescent lighting and getting some interesting results. That's where it really took off. I thought, if I take the concept to my own studio where I can the control lighting and background, I bet I could get some remarkable results. How much experimentation did it take before you arrived at a process that would produce the results you're after? Actually, I'm still in the experimenting stage. But probably about a year into it, I started feeling confident and knowing I had something here to really treasure. After that, with each shoot, I continue to learn something. It just evolves. There's really no hard-and-fast rules that I use in this, with the exception that generally I use one light and one person, and they have to move. Those are the only requirements. I've been doing this for about three years, and as I go along my techniques shift and change a little day by day. One of the really neat things about this is, I felt like I had learned everything there was to learn as a photographer, and now all of a sudden this abstract world has opened up a whole new world for me. I'm learning much more about photography. For photography enthusiasts, can you say a little about the techniques you use in this work? We set up one light, and I have the model standing on the floor under the light. We put some music on. The music is very important; we try to put on music that they love to move to, dance or yoga or whatever, and then we start to shoot, using low shutter speeds. Usually the shoots last an hour only, because after that the model is exhausted and so am I. It's a real short time, but it's filled and compacted with energy like crazy. Every model that comes in brings something different to the shoot. Some are professional models, some are dancers, and I've had a number of actresses come in. Each person brings a little something different each time, be it through their personality or through their talent. That contributes to the difference in each shoot. How many images do you typically take to produce one of these pieces? In one session, we will shoot anywhere from 500 to 800 images. There's a whole lot of shooting going on. Usually out of that 500 or 800, I can come up with five or six really good pieces. Then I'll narrow that down to maybe one. The rest of it is just exploration. You mentioned that your wife, Patty Caterino, does the printing and any post-processing that's involved. Can you say a little about that process? Oh, absolutely. Being that I shoot everything digital, there's a lot of latitude with any of the images. Basically all we do with the images is what you would do in a traditional darkroom. The lights are darkened, maybe a little contrast and saturation, but that's it. All of the abstract work is actually done in the camera. After we shoot, quite often I'll spend a few days evaluating the images, and then I'll pull maybe 20 or 30. My wife will sit down with me, and then she and I will go over them. Her knowledge in the computer is far beyond anything I could ever do. She starts making little adjustments, and she'll see things in her mind's eye, and from that all of a sudden other things start coming out of the picture. In fact, the one picture that was like the main picture of the whole Artsplace show showed a blue body walking out of frame. That was a picture that I just breezed right over. My wife found it and said, "Oh, let me take a look at this," and she made a couple of minor adjustments and all of a sudden the picture took on a whole new life. I'm basically a photographer. I work the camera, but I don't work the printer. I don't have experience in that field. My wife and I really make a very good team. We've been together since 1995, and we have a good cohesion, where with what I shoot, she makes my images so much more beautiful. She's an artist in her own way. Anything she has an interest in, she can pick up some books, read them for about two weeks and then master whatever she wants to do. She's done everything from welding to glass mosaic work. She used to do a lot of oil painting on my photographs, where she'd take a black-and-white image and hand-color it. She has a phenomenal touch. She's very, very artistic. The things that we do together let her use that talent. What do you feel you're expressing in this new work? These abstracts kind of parallel my life. In the old days, when I was out there photographing events, my life was wide open to everyone, and people knew what was going on in my life. Now I'm much more reclusive, and my work is shifting with my personal life as well. Part of the idea behind the abstracts is, the body will have no clothing, no jewelry, simply because I don't want to depict this society. I would like those images to be as timeless as they can be. My personal feelings are, the more I see of society, the less I want to be a part of it. So the abstracts kind of play along with that, and are something different that no one else does. And this work speaks to me. It really does. And it stimulates me. I had reached the point a while back where the work just did nothing for me. All I did was make pretty pictures, but I couldn't feel anything coming from it. When I do these abstracts now, there's a feeling I get, a sense of accomplishment, definitely a sense of mystery. Sometimes I don't even understand what I'm getting, but I love what I'm doing. So I just continue down that path and see where it takes me. Every piece that you see of my work is a part of me. I feel that connected to it. I think for the first time in my life, I truly do feel like an artist, and I wouldn't trade that feeling for anything in the world. Where do you find inspiration? In the early days when I was shooting a lot of fashion, some of the fashion photographers like Helmut Newton and Richard Avedon inspired me. Nowadays my references that I use for studying are Picasso, Matisse, de Kooning. I really do see life in an abstract way now, and this is all I really see photographically, too. I study art all the time. If I'm not shooting or working on pictures, I'm studying other artists' work just trying to be inspired by it, analyze it, see how it can come into my work. How did you first get started in photography? Back in the 1970s, I got a camera and started photographing my sons. One day I was shooting one of my sons in the living room, and I did something different with the lighting, and it was the most different picture I'd ever made. That really inspired me. I was bitten by the bug then, and I took off with photography. I started reading everything could get my hands on about photography. I was a magazine junkie. I bought every magazine I could get on photography and devoured it. I dabbled in it until about 1985, when I met a guy at a camera shop who had a little studio in a warehouse in Grand Rapids. He said, "I'll tell you what, you come in and help me with my rent, and I'll teach you how to use studio lighting." I was with him for two months; then he took on a couple of other photographers because he wanted to lower the rent even further, and the place was too small for all of us. So in the same building, I built my own studio. I had close to 2,000 square feet that I only paid $200/month for. I was there for fifteen years in that building, shooting fashion and weddings and portraits. Then my wife and I met in '95 and the place we live now came up for sale in '97. Where we live now is in a little area called Tallmadge Township, about fifteen miles outside the city of Grand Rapids. We actually own an old town hall, and that's what my studio is in. In back of the town hall is our house. One benefit of shooting the abstracts in the studio is that it keeps me home more often. What suggestions do you have for anyone who's starting out in photography or who's been dabbling in photography for a while but wants to get better at it? The one thing I could suggest is, you have to have a very strong drive. You have to be dedicated to it and you have to be focused on it. To go the route that I've gone, you have to work at it 24 hours a day. Once I got into photography and started professionally, it was like there was nothing else that went on in this world to me except my photography. Are there other directions you'd like to take this work in the future? One of the ideas we're kicking around now is tying my abstracts in with cancer patients. One of the models who's been in probably three or four times to do these abstract nudes is a breast cancer survivor. She's 57 years old, and she's got scarring, and it's obvious what she's been through, and we made some very beautiful artwork of her. Further down the road, if we can find a patron to bankroll this kind of project, I'd like to make beautiful abstracts—nudes or portraits—with cancer survivors and have them displayed in a hospital. Is there anything else you'd like to add?
The show at Artsplace led to a contact in Ludington, and I'll be putting on a show at the Ludington Area Center for the Arts in 2018. A murder mystery author, a bee expert and a pastor walked into a blog . . . That's not the lead-in to a joke, it's the lead-in to this week's installment of HeartWood. Those three folks were among the assortment of interesting, insightful people I invited to share their intentions for 2017. Specifically, I posed this question: What is one way you hope to enhance (or exercise) your creativity OR increase your connection (with other people, with the natural world, with causes you champion) OR foster contentment (your own or someone else's) in 2017? Responses ranged from practical to political, artistic to activist, and each one gave me something to think about. (And by the way, if you're thinking, Why didn't she ask me? Aren't I interesting and insightful?, don't be so sure I didn't ask you. I have a feeling a number of emails I sent ended up in spam files, even though I tried to keep my email groups fairly small). So read on and please feel free to share your own intentions or comment on these responses in the Comments section at the end of this post. Author J.Q. Rose (known as Janet Glaser in her non-writing life) has been tackling some new writing challenges, in addition to spreading the word about her latest release, Dangerous Sanctuary. Here's her intention for 2017: In 2017, I plan to complete my memoir about the first year my husband and I bought our flower shop in Fremont. Writing about myself, instead of a character in a mystery story, is very difficult. I have to be truthful about the situation I lived through 40 years ago. No fiction! Time certainly has a way of giving one a different perspective on events. I intend to share this story with my children and grandchildren. They've heard some of the stories about the people and places during that time. I'm eager to put it all together chronologically for them. If I decide to share the story publicly, I hope it will inspire and empower others to follow their dreams. Perhaps readers will gain the courage needed to leave home, friends, and family to make a future in a completely unknown area to realize their full potential. I'm so glad we did! Fremont is home now and even if there were a few bumps in the road on our journey to become business owners, the ride was amazing. Sandra Bernard, whose poems and guest post on "Creative Thinkers" appeared in this blog last year, has simple but important goals: I will finish my book . . . and I will pay more attention to elders who need love. Katherine Girod Myers, a retired children's librarian (and friend since junior high) spends growing season days sharing Lily Hill with fellow garden enthusiasts in Claremore, Oklahoma. This winter, she's focusing on an indoor project that's creating both order and contentment: It doesn't sound exciting or glamorous or philanthropic . . . so mundane, but it ties in with another of your posts on which type environment fosters creativity/happiness in your readers. If you'd asked this question during the gardening season you might have gotten a different answer from me, but since it's the season I'm more housebound (by weather and caring for a 20 month old) I'm focusing on fostering contentment in my life (and hoping those around me will be inspired by my more laid back attitude). I don't know why I picked up Marie Kondo's book unless I'd read about her on a blog, but I did, and I confess at first I thought some of her instructions were silly. I mean, thanking your ratty, paint stained clothing before you trash them?? And why I actually stroked those splattered and ripped up jeans, I'll never know. But when I did, I thought about all the projects big (barn!) and small that I'd worked on in those jeans, and it was nice. I know, silly. And why should it make a difference about how you pajama drawer looks? Well, I'm happy every time I open my organized drawers. I've moved on to spaces larger than drawers, and the more I sort through and thank (and make my possessions happy in their environment . . . yeah, I know . . .) the happier and more content I am. I am hoping The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up will continue to foster contentment in 2017. All I know is this usually stressful holiday season has been the happiest and least stressful one I can remember. This answer to your question is like when someone asks how you sprained your ankle and you wish you could say sky-diving when you really tripped over your own feet. I'm sure you'll get some 'sky-diving' emails from your other readers to balance this one!! Mark Winston is a friend from grad-school days who went on to be a professor and author, specializing in the study of bees. Wouldn't you know he'd be buzzing (forgive me) with interesting ideas for the coming year: I'm stretching my collaborative capacity by co-writing a book with a poet, Renee Sarojini Saklikar, at the intersection point between bees, poetry and science. While I've collaborated on many projects in many spheres, I've always kept book writing as a personal domain, so I'm reaching out into the dual citizenship domain of co-writing a book, and working with a poet. So far, it's been a blast, although the developing outcome fits no genre I'm aware of. Writing friend Théa Heying intends to move forward from the past year: I intend to stop pouting about the election; pointless ruminations disturb me. I will wean my way back to listening to the news. I will not automatically change sites, channels or stations when the "T" word comes up. I will work my way back gradually. I wish I had an Etch-a-Sketch Mind—wave a wand and the screen comes clean. Still, I aim to be a responsible American. It is time I listened—better. You may remember Jonathan Riedel from his guest post, "Hyperactive Poetry," last April. Pastor at Newaygo Congregational United Church of Christ, Jon writes poetry in addition to columns for the Times Indicator, a local weekly newspaper. For 2017: It is my hope to compile the articles I have written for the Times-Indicator into some kind of publishable form and to help my church address some of the economic difficulties of this area by working closely with our local schools, one classroom at a time. Retired teacher and yoga sister Nancy Waits shared heartfelt intentions for the year ahead: Because I am still deeply concerned about the direction of our country and how many of our citizens support this position, I plan to respond to any program for which the funding is cut. All citizens, and non-citizens for that matter, deserve clean air and water, the right to education and healthcare, police and fire protection. The hard-won rights of women, the LGBTQ community, and minorities can't be repealed. I still have some money I inherited from my dad in 2010 and I will put my money where my heart is. Margaret Hrencher is a retired high school principal and gifted writer who happens to be my cousin. I wasn't surprised that her intentions included a mix of family, creative work and learning: My intentions have been about the same for the last few years. First, I want to reflect on my relationships with my family. Basically, I want to be the best wife, mother, grandmother, sibling, cousin, and friend that anyone can have. I want to be intuitive to their needs, rather than my own. Then another first, (I don't want to diminish this intention) I want to hone my craft of writing, working harder, reading more, writing more, and reflecting more to find my way to my goal of being entertaining and/or valuable to my readers. (Currently, I have maybe six, including you :) ). Third, (see how I skipped two) I want to finally become semi-fluent in Spanish. I'm really pretty close but I need to spend some more time with native speakers who don't mind working with a fledgling. Neighbor Sally Kane is one of my hiking and yoga buddies. Lately, she's been exercising and stretching her writing muscles as well, and continuing along those lines is a priority for this year: For 2017, I decided to revisit the "Morning Pages" journaling process, developed by Julia Cameron in The Artist's Way. Many years ago I engaged in the two- to four-page writing commitment first thing in the morning. The process clears out the clutter and offers up little nuggets and gems, inspiration for poems and other genres. This lovely folder belonged to my mother, who also wrote, and will house those pages and new gem discoveries. I started this morning and already look forward to my next morning "date." I discovered Ruth Daly and her photographs on Twitter, and I was pleased when she responded to my question: My first thought was, "Only one way?" Wow, that's tough—I had some trouble with this, narrowing it down to just one way. But one thing I know I'll do is to keep taking photographs (this also increases my connection with the natural world and fosters my own contentment). At the moment, I manage to get outside with my camera several times a week, sometimes every day, and tend to take my camera everywhere I go. Taking pictures makes me see beauty in things I didn't really notice before and makes me appreciate the simple, ordinary things in nature—frost on blades of grass, the pattern of feathers on common backyard birds, leaves lit up with sunlight, geese taking flight, clouds drifting across the sky. I've learned that you don't have to go very far to see something interesting, you just have to look. Sometimes I see things that just leave me in awe: owlets learning to fly, brilliant colours of a sunrise, fresh snow on the mountains. I lose track of time and switch off from the worries and routines of life. I have a better frame of mind when I take photographs, am energized and content. So for 2017, I'll continue to do this, as well as learn some new skills, such as night photography. And the downside? Well, you know what they say—if you give a photographer a camera, they'll want a better lens. And if you give them a better lens . . . I knew I could expect a thoughtful response from my one-time roommate Rebecca Howey, and she didn't disappoint: My intention is, to quote a Facebook post making the rounds, to "act rather than react, and not waste energy being outraged at predictable atrociousness." The even shorter version has been one of my mantras for decades: CHOOSE. Don't let life just happen. Not consciously choosing IS a choice. Choose consciously. Be the star and the director of your own life. So there you have it: Eleven different takes on the question. Now, let's hear yours. To refresh your memory, here's the question again: What is one way you hope to enhance (or exercise) your creativity OR increase your connection (with other people, with the natural world, with causes you champion) OR foster contentment (your own or someone else's) in 2017?
On the last Wednesday of every month, I serve up a potpourri of advice, inspiration and other tidbits I've come across in recent weeks. This month I'm focusing on themes that are on many people's minds these days, in many contexts. As a bonus for reading to the end, I'm including a selection of photos celebrating the colorful autumn season that's drawing to a close. [I said to Suzuki Roshi,] "I could listen to you for a thousand years and still not get it. Could you just please put it in a nutshell? Can you reduce Buddhism to one phrase? . . . He was not a man you could pin down, and he didn't like to give his students something definite to cling to. He had often said not to have "some idea" of what Buddhism was. But Suzuki did answer. He looked at me and said, "Everything changes." -- David Chadwick No one is born hating another person because of the color of his skin, or his background, or his religion. People must learn to hate, and if they can learn to hate, they can be taught to love, for love comes more naturally to the human heart than its opposite. -- Nelson Mandela, Long Walk to Freedom Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing there is a field. I'll meet you there. When the soul lies down in that grass the world is too full to talk about.” -- Jalaluddin Rumi Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that. -- Martin Luther King Jr. When I despair, I remember that all through history the way of truth and love have always won. There have been tyrants and murderers, and for a time, they can seem invincible, but in the end, they always fall. Think of it--always. Mahatma Ghandi Action is the antidote to despair. -- Joan Baez The narrow-minded ask, “Is this man a stranger, or is he of our tribe?” but to those in whom love dwells the whole world is but one family. -- Anonymous (often misattributed to Buddha) No language is neutral. To speak is to claim a life--and often our own. If more Americans speak to one another, in writing, in media, at the supermarket, we might listen better. It is difficult, I think, to hate one another when we start to understand not only why and how we hurt, but also why and how we love.
-- Ocean Vuong, poet and essayist, in Poets & Writers, September/October 2016 Note: You can enlarge photographs below (except for the first) by clicking on them. To return to this page from an enlarged photo, click on the X in the upper right corner of the image. I've known for some time that my neighbor Kevin Feenstra is an avid angler and in-demand fishing guide on the nearby Muskegon River, but I only recently learned he's also an accomplished nature photographer. This I learned not from Kevin, who's a modest fellow, but from the bi-monthly events listing we receive from the Newaygo County Council for the Arts. There on the cover of the latest issue was one of Kevin's fish photos, and just inside, a full-page listing for "The Art of Fishing" exhibit underway at Artsplace in Fremont through August 15. In addition to Kevin's photographs, the exhibit features fine art and fine fishing craft by a number of other artists, plus collections of unique lures and fishing tackle. At the exhibit reception, from 10 a.m. to noon on August 13, Kevin will make a presentation, "Photographing a Big River." He'll also teach a two-hour class, "Photography: Nature of a Trout Stream," on Sept. 6. When I found out all of this, I wanted to hear more about Kevin's work and art and to share it with HeartWood readers. As it happened, Kevin was taking a rare break from guiding last week. When I trekked down the road to talk with him, I thought I might find him lounging on the deck for a change. But no, he'd just returned from a few hours on the river. Seems he can't stay away, even when he's not on the clock. In addition to guiding about 200 days a year, he spends another 50 to 75 days on the river fishing and photographing, he told me. Here's more of our conversation: Which came first, the fishing or the photography? Definitely the fishing first. The photography became part of it because my business is all catch and release. When you release a fish, a lot of times the people want at least a picture of it. Then, because I enjoy nature so much, I started doing more and more nature photography, which, since I'm out on the river every day, is probably the only other hobby I have time for. Another reason I got into the photography, besides the enjoyment, was that I do a lot of public speaking in the winter. When I go out and do programs, it's good to have quality photography. How did you learn each? Did someone teach you to fish? Did you take photography classes? Or are you self-taught? I started fishing when I was ten or eleven years old. At first I fished with my brother, but when he went off into the military I just picked it up more or less on my own. I read a lot as a kid, so I would go to the library and read every fishing book they had. In the beginning I was doing mostly spin fishing, but I picked up fly fishing pretty early on. My dad's great uncle died and left him some fly fishing gear, and since I was the only person that fished a lot in the family, I inherited the gear. Then I read the books and figured out how to do a little bit of fly fishing, and it took off from there. With photography, I also read a lot of books, and the internet definitely helped. I posted photos on some nature photography websites and had them critiqued. Do you see parallels between fishing and photography? Catch and release fishing and photography are both great ways to experience resources—like the rich wildlife in and around the Muskegon River—without having to harvest the animals. Another parallel is, to do either one right takes a lot of patience. You might have to wait quite a while for that creature you want to photograph to come along. For some of the photos I took of ospreys catching fish, I waited two days before one actually came down close enough. I do some snorkeling and underwater photography, and that has actually helped me with the fishing. I tie flies to imitate the various types of food the fish eat, and going underwater has helped a lot with that. Do you have favorite times of day or times of year on the river? I love being on the river in the evening most times of year, just because the light's so beautiful. But with a two-and-a-half-year-old son, it's harder and harder to do. I treasure those days when I can sneak out. The beauty of doing underwater photography is that even when the light's pretty harsh, it's fine for underwater work, because that requires a lot of light. What goes into a good nature photograph? Good lighting, obviously. When it comes to wildlife, understanding their behavior and what they're going to do. Most animals are pretty predictable—that's one thing you learn from fishing. Certain birds will be in the same area every day, and they like to feed at certain times of the day. If you can get the right lighting combined with the feeding activity, you can get a really nice image. And then seasonal things that happen on the river can make for interesting photos. The fall colors and all the salmon in the river in the fall, the winter ice, the renewal in the spring. There's always something that's beautiful. When you're out on the river, what kinds of things get you so excited you just have to grab your camera? Since our eagle and osprey populations are up, I sometimes see eagles and ospreys fighting. Ospreys taking fish is always a cool thing to see. At least a few times a year I see otter on the river. I also like colorful things like wood ducks. And this river has some turtles that are getting to be more and more rare: wood turtles and Blanding's turtles. Those are things you might see on the Muskegon that you might not see everywhere. I keep a camera with me even when I'm guiding, and sometimes I'll say, "Let me have a break." I don't take too many liberties with that, and people are very understanding. Some people may think being a river guide is a cushy, dream job, but I see you going out in all kinds of weather and I think it must have some real challenges. Right. A lot of people entering the guiding business think it's going to be a great, easy job. They quickly learn that there's a lot of hours you put into it each day—not just the guiding, but then you get home and you have to prep for the next day and return all the phone calls and emails. And for me, I tie all my own flies, so that's another hour every night. By the time everything's said and done, sometimes it's a twelve to fourteen-hour day, six days a week. What makes a good fishing guide? There's really two types of fishing guides: those who are really good at fishing and those who are really good at customer service. It's best to be a blend of the two. I always tell people that guide for me to try their best, but to try very hard to be good at the customer service end of things. Then if the fishing's bad, at least people will have an enjoyable time on the river. What about knowing the river? How do you learn the ins and outs of the river? Sheer time. I've been fishing up here since I was in my teens. Probably every possible day when I was a teenager, and when I graduated from college I was up here every day fishing. Then eventually I started guiding a little bit. The first year I was guiding maybe thirty to fifty days, but I was fishing every day I wasn't guiding. And eventually the balance tipped, and now I'm guiding way more than I'm fishing, and it's harder to take time to fish now. But it still helps to go out every day. That's my number one suggestion: If you want to be a fishing guide, you really have to put the time in. And you have to do it before you start to be a fishing guide. Because it's a lot harder to do once you're actually taking people fishing. And it's the same with photography, right? You just have to get out there and do it a lot. Right, put the time in. I tend to obsess about things that I enjoy, so I do put a lot of time in. You were single when you started your business 20 years ago, but now you have a wife, Jane, and son, Zach. Is fishing a family activity? Zach loves being out in the boat. Any fish I catch, he always wants to look at it and touch it. He attempts to help me reel it in, but we're not quite there yet. Jane likes to go out in the boat, too, but she'd rather read a book while I fish. Any parting thoughts or advice? For fishing, my advice to people is always just to keep their eyes down at the river and look into the water. A lot of times you'll see fish and can come back and catch them. One of the best ways to learn the river is the most obvious: just to keep your eyes peeled, and if you have access to a boat you can learn a lot just by driving up and down the river. The same thing holds true with the nature photography. Just keep your eyes open and watch for natural behavior. You can see more of Kevin's photographs at http://www.kevinfeenstra.smugmug.com/
I'm taking a break from writing this week. Well, that's not entirely true. I did spend some time playing around with a new writing project, which I'll tell you more about once it gets further along. But I'm taking a break from blog writing this week because it's just so beautiful outside, and I've got to get out there and look at stuff. I hate to leave you behind, though--we've been having such a good time together. So come outside with me, and I'll show you some of the stuff I've been looking at. That's the end of today's walkabout. What catches your attention in your surroundings?
On the last Wednesday of every month, I serve up a potpourri of advice, inspiration and other tidbits I've come across in recent weeks. If you read through to the end (no fair skipping ahead!), you'll get a treat: a visual recap of a fun event from the past month. Such things . . . as the grasp of a child's hand in your own, the flavor of an apple, the embrace of a friend or a lover, the silk of a girl's thigh, the sunlight on rock and leaves, the feel of music, the bark of a tree, the abrasion of granite and sand, the plunge of clear water into a pool, the face of the wind—what else is there? What else do we need? --Edward Abbey, author, essayist and environmentalist Will you ever bring a better gift for the world than the breathing respect that you carry wherever you go right now? --William Stafford, American poet and pacifist I don’t want to get to the end of my life and find that I have lived just the length of it. I want to have lived the width of it as well. --Diane Ackerman, author, poet and naturalist I value the friend who for me finds time on his calendar, but I cherish the friend who for me does not consult his calendar. --Robert Brault, blogger Passion is one great force that unleashes creativity, because if you're passionate about something, then you're more willing to take risks. --Yo-Yo Ma, cellist I love the sutra sthira sukham asanam: "Effort without tension, relaxation without dullness." It reminds me that energy should not be confused with anxiety and stress. --Renee Loux, author, chef and green-living expert, interviewed in Yoga Journal, May, 2016 To achieve greatness, start where you are, use what you have, do what you can. --Arthur Ashe, the first African-American man to win Wimbledon And now, as promised, a virtual visit to Tulip Time, an annual Holland, Michigan event that took place earlier this month. Put on your wooden shoes and come along! So, readers, where has life taken you, and what wisdom have you gleaned in the past month? Once again, it's time for Last Wednesday Wisdom. On the last Wednesday of every month, I serve up a potpourri of advice, inspiration and other tidbits I've come across in recent weeks. We've been celebrating National Poetry Month all of this month, so today I'm sharing poetry-related morsels. And if you're wondering how I did with the poetry month challenge I introduced at the beginning of the month, read to the end for a report. Poetry is truth in its Sunday clothes. -- Joseph Roux If I feel physically as if the top of my head were taken off, I know that is poetry. -- Emily Dickinson Poetry is eternal graffiti written in the heart of everyone. -- Lawrence Ferlinghetti We all tell stories and write poems . . . to keep awe and aspiration and comprehension and the other components of hopeful lives bright in each other's hearts. -- Barry Lopez in Poets & Writers, Jan/Feb 2016 If you can't be a poet, be the poem. -- David Carradine Poetry is the journal of a sea animal living on land, wanting to fly in the air. -- Carl Sandburg When I first started writing poetry as a high schooler, I adopted what I call "The Seven Layers of Enigma" model. I wrote a verse that I did not understand, but was sure that others would marvel at simply because it was so inscrutable. -- Joseph Bathanti in The Writer, April 2016 We make out of the quarrel with others, rhetoric, but of the quarrel with ourselves, poetry. -- William Butler Yeats Poetry is like a bird, it ignores all frontiers. -- Yevgeny Yevtushenko So, about that challenge. At the beginning of the month, I vowed to read poetry every day. That I did. I read my way through David Tucker's poetry collection, Late for Work and dipped into Trumbull Ave. by Michael Lauchlan, whom I met at this year's Rally of Writers in Lansing, Michigan. I also discovered Ada Limón and John Brehm, whose poems appear in the May 2016 issue of The Sun. And of course, I loved reading the work of HeartWood guest bloggers Jonathan Riedel and Sandra Bernard. But there was another part to that challenge. I pledged to write a poem a day. I did write poems, more than I've ever written in one month (fifteen so far, and the month isn't over). But some days slipped by poem-less. Other days, I deliberately followed the advice of Ansel Adams, quoted in last month's installment of Last Wednesday Wisdom: When words become unclear, I shall focus with photographs. When images become inadequate, I shall be content with silence. I guess there were quite a few fuzzy-word days and not many silent ones, because I took a LOT of photographs. For example: But even if I missed some days, I kept coming back to writing poems--trying different forms and sometimes making a game of it. One of the most fun things I tried was taking random words from someone else's poems and trying to make my own poem from those words. I won't go into detail here, but if you'd like to read more about the process and what I came up with, click here. Now that I've given you my report, tell me how you did with your poetry month challenges. I know some of you planned to read poetry, others were inspired to write their own or paint pictures. Let's hear how that went! |
Written from the heart,
from the heart of the woods Read the introduction to HeartWood here.
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Nan Sanders Pokerwinski, a former journalist, writes memoir and personal essays, makes collages and likes to play outside. She lives in West Michigan with her husband, Ray. Archives
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