NaPoMo poetry party last call

The last day of April brings us to our final guest at my NaPoMo poetry party. If you’ve been following along each day (if not tomorrow’s wrap up will help you catch up), you’ll know our scope has widened a bit from strictly poets to meeting with a handful of visual storytellers – photographers. This morning we are joined by Malcolm Evans, a photographer and someone very dear to my heart; my son.

Tell us a little about yourself, Malcolm.

Malcolm: My name is Malcolm and I currently work as an Outreach Navigator with the Canadian Mental Health Association. In May I will begin working on my Master of Public Safety with Wilfrid Laurier University.

As all of you are also experiencing, my life is going through some unprecedented changes. Not only has COVID-19 changed where I live, how I work, and what I do in my spare time, it has also shifted my ability to focus on what matters most to me as an individual. As I find myself distanced from family and friends, there is a heightened sense of priority in my life. The things that matter most to me have been solidified by their absence.

I find peace in this.

We often say we wish we had more time for certain things. Are you spending your time differently in view of our current world challenges? If so, how?

Malcolm: I tend to be the kind of person who does as much as possible, whenever possible. Since I am an essential worker, the only thing that has changed for me is the time that I spend outside of work. Luckily, a lot of my daily activities already abide by social distancing requirements! If anything, I’m saving money by spending less time in breweries and restaurants, and more time out in nature. The biggest thing that has changed is my ability to spend time with my family. I do my best to find activities that allow us to be together from a distance but it’s never the same.

Why is art important?

Malcolm: Art has always been a form of therapy for myself. The world tends to melt away when I am outside with my camera. Photography allows me to focus on things that have minimal impact on my life and yet, carry significant beauty. Finding beauty in the world continues to be an important source of happiness in my life. I think it’s important for everyone to discover a way to see beauty. Art is a lens that helps us achieve that.

What is one surprising thing that happened today?

Malcolm: I ran out of peanut butter today. It happened a lot faster than I expected. I love peanut butter!

You have chosen several photographs to share this morning, and they are striking examples to me of how form, texture, light, and shadow can be crafted into a emotive compositions completely devoid of colour, and yet my perception is somehow not limited to shades and tones of black and white. I wonder why? There is metaphor in this for me.

Thank you so much for coming by today, Malcolm. Your work is masterful. I wish you all the best with MELK Photography, the business you are developing that will specialize in black/white photography. Maybe you will share more about that another day. And thank you for the helping work you do on the front lines. It is a good work, and you have a good heart.

 

And thank you, friends, for dropping in today. Come back tomorrow for our wrap up session where all of our amazing guests will be back for one more fond farewell.

“May the road rise to meet you, may the sun be always on your back, and until we meet again, may God hold you in the palm of his hand.” (Irish Blessing)

Peace to each of you,

Lesley-Anne

NaPoMo poetry party.26

Joel Clements is a graphic designer, documentary photographer, and widely involved creative soul who lives in Richmond Hill, Ontario with his fabulous wife Andrea, and two adorable cats. I have witnessed the exceptional work of Joel’s hands in his woodworking, cabinetmaking, and renovating. His vintage canoe is one example of his loving and meticulous process of preserving things of beauty.

To have a creative conversation with Joel is best enjoyed with a cold craft brew in your hand and a good chunk of time to sit and wonder together. For now I’m just going to imagine the day that will happen again, and enjoy our virtual chat.

Joel is my brother, and my friend. Welcome to Buddy Breathing, JC. Your websites HERE and HERE are great resources for folk to dig in and find out more about you, and experience more of your work. Today you’ve brought us a poignant poem, and a photograph, but let’s dig first into the answers to three questions.

Lesley-Anne: We often say we wish we had more time for certain things. Are you spending your time differently in view of our current world challenges? If so, how?

Joel: I’ve been a self-employed creative for almost 14 years, so working from home hasn’t required an adjustment besides adapting to sharing the house 24/7 with my wife. Social distancing and travel restrictions are definitely having an effect on my photography. Last year at this time I was preparing for a month long documentary assignment in Malawi. I have taken the opportunity to play a little – with my Polaroid cameras and some mixed-media art projects. I take a little time out of work each day to do some art for art’s sake.

Lesley-Anne: Why is art important?

Joel: Creativity is central to my being. I love to create, and experience things that other people have created.

Lesley-Anne: What is one surprising thing that happened today?

Joel: I received a request to submit a poem to Buddy Breathing.

Your photo and poem are gifts that seem so well suited to each other. Thank you for taking us here.

Love and hope,
Lesley-Anne

Downtown Toronto under lock down.

Grief Moved In

Blue sweatshirts,
sweat-stained,
darkened,
sled labelled boxes
down the hall
jammed with
box-spring skeletons,
and grunt
a piano up
the stairs

The sofa rests hard
on soft shoulders,
carried away
from an empty
shrunken room.

We sit hard
on hardwood floors,
listen to squeals
of dolly wheels
rolling up plywood
ramps, eat
fried chicken
from the bucket,
sharing memories
with deaf walls
as grief moves in.

 

NaPoMo poetry party.21

We are going to dive into a different genre today with our guest photographer, Chris Hancock Donaldson, from Port Alberni, B.C.. She is a visual story teller. Chris’s work includes street photography, quirky domestic scenes, mystical images of coastal rain forests and clear cuts, shots of pets and people, and more. Today she is sharing a collection of 16 of her photographs taken during the pandemic. For more follow Chris on Instagram.

Hi, Chris. I can’t help but notice your poetic voice in both prose and photograph. I recall two writing retreats we attended together with fondness; one where we experienced a few close encounters with deer. Thanks for opening this window into your life. When did you start taking photos?

Chris: I think I first started taking photos about 20 years ago when my husband at the time brought back an SLR for me — I don’t recall now what it was — from a pawn shop in St. Louis. I don’t know why he got me a camera. He must’ve had a hunch. Not long after I got my first digital camera, and I’ve stayed with digital since. And unless I’m doing a professional job, these days I primarily use my iPhone 11. Taking photos is mostly about self-expression for me. 

Lesley-Anne: What is this quieter version of life teaching you, if in fact, it is quieter?

Chris: Previously, my life was tipping the scale heavy on partying. Being forced out of the haze showed me how often I was choosing substances to diminish stepping out of my integrity, angst, emotional pain. When covid hit and I was faced with the prospect of being alone with fewer distractions, I knew it was sink or swim for me. So I’m swimming in these quieter times, stronger than before.

Lesley-Anne: We often say we wish we had more time for certain things. Are you spending your time differently in view of our current world challenges? If so, how?

Chris: Mostly I do what I used to, only more of it. We’ve been graced with days of warm sun this spring on Vancouver Island. I hike daily, but have been exploring new areas, wandering for miles through forests, deactivated logging roads, pushing higher up ridges. By mid-afternoon I sometimes find a spot to hole up with a couple cans of Heineken, or my drum, with my dog, by a river, on a bluff, on a stump in a clear cut. It really doesn’t matter where — for the time I’m in nature, I don’t feel trapped.

Lesley-Anne: What is one surprising thing that happened today?

Chris: [I] Hiked down to a spot on the inlet this afternoon and sprawled against a log in the sun. The wind made whitecaps on the water and whooshed through the firs and I remembered what I’ve done since I was a child: felt the heat of the sun bite through my clothes, let the wind’s clamour dull the heaviness of my mind, and shut my eyes to a world that is sometimes too much for all my senses.

I hear you about the too much, and often feel that way myself. I can feel the peacefulness of these photos, and I encourage people to scroll leisurely and take in the simple and honest atmospheres you have encapsulated here.

May your back road journeys continue to take you wherever you most need to go.

Blessings and peace,
Lesley-Anne

Posting photos on WordPress Blogs

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(I will share how to do a slideshow next post… this is just a teaser!)

My Grandfather taught me to see (and introduced me to the rest of my senses as a result)… took me around his two acre patch of paradise garden with him when I was just two years old. And, with hands clasped behind our backs, we toured he taught me Latin names of plants, and the intricate and important task of seeing by paying attention, looking, stopping, staring, considering, discussing, praising, and… wait for it… AWE. So, maybe in hindsight, my Grandfather planted in me the roots that have grown and bloomed into poetry…hmmm…I wonder.

Grandpa’s words were simple enough, “Would you look at that!.”

Anyway, part of looking for me is to capture what I see with words and, after a long time without any equipment, suddenly I have been blessed with a camera (thanks again son) which allows me yet another way to capture moments.

A good friend asked me the other day how to post big and beautiful photos on his blog… so, the primary reason for my blog today is to try to help him with that goal in mind. Posting big and beautiful, drawing attention to, capturing, looking, and yes… seeing… what surrounds us.

Step One:

Take a beautiful photograph. Ansel Adams said, “Sometimes I do get to places just when God’s ready to have somebody click the shutter…” And I believe that to be true. So, take the photo. Divine appointment click!

Step Two:

Download your photos from your camera onto your computer. In my case, I’m Mac gal, so I download/upload (always get the two mixed up!) into iPhoto.

Step Three:

Go to WordPress, prepare to post a blog just as you always do. Just under the title box you will see “Upload/Insert” and there are three icons following … 1 for Media (photos/music/video), 1 for a Poll, and 1 for Custom Form. I’ve never used the last two… but this is about the first. So, click on Media and you will arrive at a page with a little box in the middle that says, “Drop files here or select files.” I always click on select files which then takes me into iPhoto where I select and upload what I want to use.

Step Four:

So, on my computer I have a choice of four options… these are they: (oddly enough, large and full size look identical… who knew???)

Choose thumbnail

Choose medium

Choose large

Choose full size

THEN

WAY DOWN ON THE RIGHT HAND SIDE OF THE PAGE YOU WILL SEE MEDIA GALLERY… that is where you will find images from the internet that are recommended relating to your topic. Here is an Ansel Adams photo because I mention him in this post. I have found these images to be helpful at times, but not very large and look a bit borrowed. You will need in each case to set your icon where you want the picture to fall in your text… and that’s all folks… !!!

English: Ansel Adams The Tetons and the Snake River (1942) Grand Teton National Park, Wyoming. National Archives and Records Administration, Records of the National Park Service. (79-AAG-1) Français : Ansel Adams. Les Grands Tetons et la rivière Snake (1942). Parc National des Grands Tetons, Wyoming. Archives Nationales des USA, Archives du service des parcs nationaux. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)