The ripples of words

Some people have been wondering why I stopped posting to Plop—except for one individual who wondered why I had ever started. So perhaps an explanation is in order.

I should have written this long ago I guess but then again nothing ever arrives late so here it is.

I stopped posting for a couple of reasons. The most clear reason, if I can call it that, is that I didn’t, and still don’t, have the time to write. Not that I was a prolific writer to start with but I knew that time—as much as I believe it to be a fabrication of the mind—was going to be a rare commodity. And on that count I have been correct. For a number of reasons I have found myself with few breaks where I can muster the energy or will (whatever that may be) to sit and write. But here I am, late on a Saturday night, sitting in front of my computer, listening to the rain fall and watching words appear on the screen, wondering where they are coming from, wondering what they will reveal. I think I know but with writing—much like photographing—I can never be totally certain how it will turn out. It is doubtful that I will finish writing this piece tonight as I am already past the point of tired and I wonder if I will finish it at all.

But back to my excuse of time or lack of it. I’ve been told that such an excuse is a poor excuse and it is true that I feel like a fraud for using it. Not because I am lying about how little time I have but because others, who have equally busy lives, still manage to post on their own blogs with amazing regularity and enthusiasm. And I am grateful for that because I do enjoy their blogs and I derive much inspiration, learning and entertainment from them. And so to add to the feeling of being a fraud I add the feeling of being a leech. For not giving anything back (the odd comment left here and there notwithstanding).

This brings me to my second reason for abandoning Plop. But this reason is not as clear-cut as one of time.

I am, on occasions, surprised by the variety of perceptions people have of this blog. Some see it as a being about photography, others see it as being about art and still others see it as being about philosophy. Or a combination of these topics. Some have no idea what I’m on about and at least one person thinks Plop should have remained an idea in my head. I freely accept all of these ideas and I am even humbled that people have bothered to form an opinion on Plop. This blog started off as a kind of self-exploration but interestingly that idea quickly showed itself to be somewhat of an absurd concept. After all, as humans we are ill-equipped to objectively look at ourselves. From my own questionable perspective however, Plop evolved into being about seeing. Not just looking at things in some random manner but actually seeing the world exactly as it is. Whatever that may in fact be. The trouble with this view is that it became apparent to me that seeing, as I have come to understand it, is not enhanced or made clearer with words. If seeing is the clear reflection offered by the still waters of a lake then words are the ripples created when a stone (a metaphorical thought) is thrown in.

But some of the comments and emails I have received since my last post have led me to consider that I may be wrong. Perhaps the ripples are what brings our attention to what eventually becomes a still surface. With enough patience the ripples eventually cease and the universe is reflected back to us in all its simplicity. Because the question may well be: would the reflection go unnoticed without the “plop” of the thought and the ripples of the words? In my experience we are more readily attracted to movement than to stillness. We are more likely to notice silence after noise has first made an appearance.

…

Many days have gone past since that late Saturday night when I started writing this post. It is now weeks later, early on a Sunday morning. The birds are already awake and the sun is not far behind. The traffic in the distance almost sounds like waves breaking onto a beach. There’s already a faint hint of a breeze blowing, hopefully it won’t be too hot today.

So where was I? Ah yes, the idea that words might be a problem while at the same time be a pointer to that which they hide so well. I venture a guess that the irony and the paradox is not lost on readers of this blog. But what to do when faced with such a dilemma? Continue throwing stones in the water creating ripples or let the surface settle and run the risk that it goes unnoticed? Or is it possible that the ripples caused in one lake allows us to notice the reflection in the still waters of another lake? I wouldn’t feel so unsure of what action to follow if I was truly confident in my understanding of the topics I explore but the reality is that the older I get the more I learn, the more I learn the more knowledge I acquire and the more knowledge I have the less certain I am of anything. As such I am reluctant to worsen the already questionable signal-to-noise ratio on the Internet by adding my vague musings about things I am not even sure about. There is a Taoist saying that the empty vessel makes the loudest noise. I suspect I am a good example of this—just look at how many words I need to explain why I stopped blogging. But regardless of the opinion I hold of myself I would be most ungrateful if I was to ignore the many insightful comments and emails provided by the readers of Plop. I cannot overstress how important these shared thoughts have been to me and I am ashamed to say that I only fully realised their positive influence while in the process of writing this post. Every such comment is like a wave suppressant on the lake’s edge quelling the turbulence from the ripples allowing the reflection to become a little clearer.

Seriously, I cannot emphasise enough how much this has meant to me.

Hmm… I started writing this post to explain my reasons for ending Plop and I end up with a reason to continue.

So…

okay…

this is awkward.

In flight from myself

I was recently reminded of a quote attributed to Oscar Wilde, “To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist, that is all.” The notion of living life is a subtle one which I have all too often taken for granted and taking life for granted equates to simply existing rather than living. I have taken it for granted not because living life is what I do but because it is what I think I do. Beliefs, opinions, biases, prejudices, labels, judgements, knowledge, it is all of these things and more that define me, it is all of these things that define where I start and where I end. But all of these things I know to be nothing more than thoughts. No matter how I slice and dice it, all of these things are mind-matter and attachment to these beliefs and opinions may well prevent life from being lived fully. Equally, these beliefs and opinions may well short-circuit creative flow.

Just as my beliefs and opinions invariably create filters on all my senses that prevent me from experiencing life fully, they also create interference to the creative flow. Look at a young child full of mindless enthusiasm, using her fingers to spread paint all over a large sheet of butcher’s paper, not caring about rules on aesthetics or design, without any understanding of colour schemes, without a care. Instead she is full of giggles at the feel of soft mushy paint between her fingers, full of surprise at seeing the blue paint turn to green when her fingers run across a yellow blob. This alone makes her clap her hands in delight and then seeing the resulting paint splatter rain across her art work, she erupts in shrieks of laughter. No judgements, no opinions, no beliefs, just moments of mindless fun.

In those moments she is living life.

Years ago during a religious lesson at school the teacher, a Christian Brother, asked the class what was meant by the phrase “God created us in his own image”. The apathy in this class was always palpable but without thinking I shot my hand up and replied, “It means we’re all creators too”. That response promptly got me a trip to the principal’s office and a lunch time detention. I never found out exactly why my response elicited such a punishment and while I hold no beliefs where gods are concerned if some god did indeed create us in its own image then I would maintain that my comment still holds some value; we are all creators.

Technology is allowing us to be creative in ways that were not previously possible. It’s as if technology has opened a flood gate to creativity and everyone is feeling the pulsing flow even when they are not fully conscious of what is happening. Digital photography, digital painting, digital music, it’s all so easy to do now. Is it all good? Does that really matter? When someone snaps a photo with their phone and manipulates it with some so-called app to make it look like some retro Holga image; is it art? Well, maybe, maybe not but again what does it matter? What matters is that it is creative and it came out of nowhere and it need not be judged to be anything in particular. It just happened and in the happening of it there is likely to be joy and bliss, there may even be surprise and giggles and laughter, at the very least there is mindless fun. Such moments of creativity are simple and honest. Sometimes, even if only for a second, there is a sense of selflessness where beliefs and opinions are suspended or disengaged and somehow the self knows itself to be the whole.

In those moments life is being lived.

Of course technology doesn’t only allow us to be creative, it also offers us the opportunity to be distracted. The sheer volume of up-to-the-minute information can be overwhelming but the instant feedback to our ideas and thoughts can also be captivating and addictive. However let me clarify that I am not suggesting that technology is to blame for all this distraction. Distractions have always been around. Over one hundred years ago Nietzsche wrote of his peers, “One thinks with a watch in one’s hand, even as one eats one’s midday meal while reading the latest news of the stock market”. But Nietzsche was careful not to cast the blame on clocks or markets. “We labour at our daily work more ardently and thoughtlessly than is necessary to sustain our life, because it is even more necessary not to have leisure to stop and think. Haste is universal because everyone is in flight from himself.” (From Untimely Meditations 1876). It is the last sentence which for me says it all and I could easily swap the word “haste” with “distraction”. However it has become clear to me that distraction, or haste for that matter, comes at a cost. I may fear that if I don’t read every tweet, every Facebook update, every RSS feed, every email, then I will miss out on something important but the irony is that I do in fact, miss out on something important because I try so hard to keep up with all the input. Within the distractions and the haste of everyday living lies the illusion of escape. When I fleet from one tweet to another then to Facebook or email, checking SMS messages in between and all along reading snippets from articles in my RSS feed I escape from the drudgery of my life, the mundane job, the aches and the pains, the problems, the worries. With every hit from Twitter I manage to keep my troubles away. And that’s a good thing. Or so it seems. As it turns out though, the only thing I am escaping from is Life.

Immersed in distractions I simply exist. Lost in distraction I am in flight from myself.

However, just as I do not blame technology for providing endless distractions,  I do not wish to suggest that all these distractions are somehow bad or evil. Like everything else they are what they are and passing some judgement on them is, well, just compounding the real issue. Instead I have found it useful to simply understand why I seek distractions and gaining such understanding only needs a slight twist of perception, a mere hint of awareness. It is not the distractions per se that prevent me from living, it is my reluctance or maybe even my fear of facing the drudgery of my life, the mundane job, the aches and the pains, the problems, the worries. Or as it is sometimes said, the fear of facing my demons. Deciding to focus more ardently and be less distracted isn’t a solution as the effort needed to focus will only become another distraction. Being aware of what I am trying to escape from on the other hand provides a release which defies logic. Facing my problems and issues, my fears, fully with complete awareness and without judgement, belief or opinion, allows me to see them for what they are namely, thoughts, mind-matter, of no substance other than what I attribute to them and once scrutinized in such a manner the fear associated with them disappears as does the need to escape. This may seem like I am simply deluding myself, after all the problems do not magically go away. The aches and pains are still there, the bills still need to be paid, the mundane 9 to 5 job has not become any more exciting, the desire to escape hasn’t diminished. Nothing has changed other than the realisation that Life is not an experience. Life is the experiencing itself. Life is the light that shines on the experience and the experiencer both of which arise in the presence of awareness.

Immersed in this experiencing, life is lived. Lost in the experiencing, creativity flows.

As a photographer I see a reflection, a subject looking at an object but with a slight twist of perception, a mere hint of awareness it becomes clear that the photographer and the reflection are simply arising in this eternal presence of awareness and the reality is that there is only seeing happening. In other words, there is only creativity flowing, life being lived.

Life and creative flow, essentially the same thing and just as Life is the experiencing, Life is the creating.

In the process of creation, rather than take flight from myself I give flight to every idea and belief I have about this story I call my life and take joy in the mindless fun of creating, the freedom of living. Even though outwardly nothing has changed it’s all seen to be just as it should be.

Upon reflection

Preface: It is probably worth reiterating that I use photography as a means to understand the nature of self. When I started writing this post I thought it would be about photographing reflections but as occasionally happens, the train of thought got switched over to another set of tracks. Instead this post explores some thoughts on a related topic that are perhaps less apparent to the senses than technical details such as f-stops and shutter speeds. So if you’re after a photography post you may not want to read further. If you decide to read on, be warned, this may make little sense if any. Either way I offer my apologies in advance.

~ ≡ ~

One of my favourite subjects for photography happens to be reflections whether they be in puddles, windows, ponds or mirrors. They are all around, on brass plaques on sides of buildings, on the fender of a freshly waxed car, on wet bitumen where traffic lights take on an impressionistic feel, on a polished doorknob which distorts your approaching hand, on a shop window, on the closing doors of a subway train, on a lifesaver’s sunglasses, the list goes on. They catch my eye and captivate my thoughts. For some reason though, I rarely photograph them but that doesn’t matter since the image is made in memory and that’s enough for me. However there is something about reflections that offers a pointer to something deeper and it is only recently that I started to see beyond the reflective surface.

When I look at a reflection there are two aspects of it that are immediately apparent. The reflective surface itself and the reflected subject. The order in which these are perceived depends on the situation but in any case the order is unimportant. Nor is the possibility that I sometimes see one without seeing the other. What is more important or more interesting, at least to me, is the nature of the reflections themselves.

The reflected objects are not real and they don’t actually exist anywhere though it is said that they are “in” the reflective surface. But that’s not strictly accurate. Take a mirror for example. Strictly speaking the objects we see in the mirror are not “in” it, they are “of” the mirror. Their existence as reflected objects is due to the existence of the mirror. Take away the mirror and the reflected objects go with it. Turn the mirror around and the old reflected objects make way for new reflected objects. The reflected objects are transient while the mirror remains constant. But the more important point for me is that the reflected objects are “of” the mirror, they don’t exist in it, they are not separate from it. there’s only in effect, the mirror.

“What a crock,” you may say, “even if the reflected objects don’t exist in the reflective surface, they exist outside it. They have to exist in order to be reflected and what’s more, the real objects are separate from the reflective surface or mirror. So what’s the point?“

All true of course but this is only meant as an analogy, a pointer if you will, to something perhaps a little less tangible.

When I make a photograph of a reflection or anything else for that matter, it is fair to say that I am making a photograph of an object which exists in space.

“Well duh… all objects exist in space.” Yes but is there anything outside this space? Even if the Universe was shown to be finite it would still need to exist in something, it would exist in space even if that space is nothingness. All things appear in this space, in nothingness. Everything registers in this space. The photographs we make, the objects we photograph, the thoughts, the thinker, the concepts, the emotions, the stories, the lives we live, the story of “me”, even time, all of it appears as sensations in this space. Nothing, no thing, lies outside it and all of it registers right here right now. That seems important to me. And everything in this space is transient, everything comes and goes except space itself. The space remains unchanged, unaffected, unmoved.

Now this is where I make an illogical and unscientific mental extension. Illogical because it defies the senses and unscientific because… well… I’m not a scientist.

Just as I see the reflected objects being “of” the mirror rather than in the mirror, perhaps all transient things are “of” space or “of” nothingness rather than in it. Everything that our senses tell us is real is in reality… nothingness. Mere reflections. Maybe. I don’t know. It’s just another concept anyway. But when I contemplate this idea an indescribable sense of wholeness occurs. Thoughts cease and a clarity of seeing happens that defies logic in its purity. And the slightest attempt at describing it sends out a ripple that immediately unsettles the perfect balance of it.

So maybe, just maybe, the nature of things, the unification of all phenomenons, the answer to the science of everything is… nothingness. The sheer simplicity of this is appealing. To me.