Sunday
Feb282010
I look. I focus. I see.
February 28, 2010 * * * * * Posted by: Marcie 
Slowly..I raise my camera. I look. I focus. I see.
Vermont’s green mountains rendered in winter’s greys and whites. A hint of a village and its church steeple tucked into the distant valley below. With one click - this vision..this moment is captured and preserved by my camera’s lens. Forever.
And – I think about my father. And – I wonder what he would see today if he were here with me. I hear his voice. I feel his presence. This was his landscape..his world that he embraced and loved.
It was in these mountains that I learned to ski. My father the teacher. Me the ever-willing student by his side. It was his lead that I followed. One turn after another. One bump. One mogul. One impossibly freezing cold day..followed by a warm spring one. In snow..in wind..in fog so dense we could hardly see our hands when held in front of us..in sunshine so bright and penetrating it almost hurt our eyes. We skied.
I grew up in these mountains. I grew from being one of a pack of boys..to wanting desperately to be a girl. I experienced my first love..and my first heartbreak. And it was here that I suffered my life’s greatest loss – my father.
It was in these mountains that he learned to see. It was here that he practiced his craft of photography…capturing this vast and beautiful landscape with his camera lens. Always in search of perfection - that perfect light..that perfect composition…that perfect vantage point from which to paint his picture. Rising before dawn..he’d be out seeking that first hint of magical light…that instant when the world is sleepily awaiting for the sun’s rise to start the day. He had a vision. And like any man on a mission..he pursued that vision passionately.
Slowly..I raise my camera. I look. I focus. I see.
So much alike..and yet so different. Without any particular vision in mind..I practice my craft daily. I see what I see. I capture the moment for what it is and what it offers..and not necessarily what I would like or hope it to be. No pre-planning. No orchestration. No particular thought to the composition or vantage point from where I might be shooting..or even what that subject matter might be. Rising often before dawn..I too am out seeking that same magical light. Without any particular goal in mind…I’m simply cultivating awareness and appreciation for whatever it is. A mindful meditation. The perfectly crafted image is not my intention. It’s in the unexpected and the spaces in between that I find myself and my vision.
I look like him. I share his familiar bouncing gait. Some have told me that I even remind them of him. And – I wear all of these badges proudly. He was my father.
As I return and return again to this landscape..to these mountains that he loved..I’m often caught off guard by their power and their grace. They remain forever present..immovable..solid and strong. The snow that blankets them in winter white melts into spring. The frozen rivers and streams begin again to freely flow. Grass grows. Flowers bloom. Trees sprout tiny buds that blossom into green leaves. The seasons go round and round endlessly repeating. Nature’s power to renew and restore is everlasting. Life’s cycle is forever re-born.
And – I think about my father. And – I wonder what he would say today if he were here with me.
Reader Comments (30)
I'm quite sure your father would say how proud of you he is. I think it's fantastic that you share the same gift as your father and that it brings you such wonderful memories. I must say, I'm a teensy bit jealous, Marcie, although I'm sad you didn't have more time with him.
Marcie. Brilliant post. I read. I understand. I like.
What a lovely tribute to your dad and your craft. Your photographs are pure art and I am sure he would marvel at what you create everyday.
I too wish your Dad was here to witness the brilliant love in your current photography, I know we haven't known each other for that long, so i can't speak of your past work, but I see you now and I marvel at your sheer talent, the soft, yet cutting wit with which you see. Your Father would be so proud.
marcie . i really connected with you on this post . the memories are beautifully written and your photography style is treasured.
what a lovely way to remember your father, as part of you. carrying him with you each day as you make your own footsteps. beautiful.
I think it is beautiful how your father's story has become your story. You continue your half of the story every time you pick up your camera, everytime you travel to that special place. I would love to see his photos side by side with yours. Just another part of the story!
This is so beautiful.
Like father, like daughter! Why don't we hear that more often??? Like JoLyn, I would love to see one of his photos, Marcie, just to see HIM next to you. I have stared at your images so many times and know he must be staring at them, too, popping his buttons. How could he not?! Surely there are differences in your work but I'm giessing he would say some of the same things I have said to you, like "I have NEVER seen images of dogs like that...ever!" From age 1 on, I grew up in a different state from my dad's upbringing. Sometimes I wish I could have seen and known from whence he came to understand his roots. You are very lucky. So is/was he!
Your words are beautifully spoken here, Marcie. And your image is exquisite. I do love the spontaneity of photography, how I can look outside and see nothing in particular that grabs my attention, but when I "go" outside with my camera, I always come back with magic.
with tears running down my face, I read this morning , my daughter's shared passion with her Father . Photogaraphy happend to both of them at the same time and both took it in different directions, yet their photography have a similar quality of softness and sensitivity. For me the tribute to her Father and my husband after 20 years is so meaningful I need words. Thank you Marcie
With love, your Mother
what a beautiful post and tribute to your father.
this photograph brought back memories for me - i skied in those mountains many years ago with my family.
such a heartwarming tribute to your father and he surely would be puffing his chest out with pride. I can so relate because I have these feelings about my mother.
You have created beauty with your lens and your words.
I have admired your images for quite some time now and this is no exception. A really heartfelt tribute to your father and what you have experienced together. It would be nice to see a picture taken by him. It must have been nice sharing this interest with your father and continuing to take pictures is a tribute to his memory I think. So beautifully written, and visualized.
whoa...the green mountains...are forever settled in my bones and being...you too? magical...
This image is absolutely haunting.
Your father's influence on your life is as beautiful and solid as the mountains in the image. Thank you for honoring him and sharing it so beautifully with us. Farmergal
Beautiful piece Marcie both in vision and verb - thank you for sharing.
Beautiful piece Marcie both in vision and verb - thank you for sharing!
I don't know what I like better, you vision or your verb. I love them both
Beautiful tribute. What a blessed thing to have a father you love so much.
You truly have a gift. You so eloquently express your thoughts and feelings with words. I would love to be able to do that. Thanks for sharing. Your mother's comment on this post was very touching.
My father passed away fifteen years ago, and yet like your essay, I think of him all the time and wish he could see me now. This was beautifully written.
Marcie, this is wonderful. Just wonderful!
Your words and image moved me. But it was your mother's words that moved me to tears.