magic sand dollar

Do you have anything that holds magic?

I use the term loosely when I say “magic”. I mean something that inspires you, something that makes you feel better or something that you treasure. The magical items in our lives often come as gifts from someone or are items that we have found. They are things that have been kept for a long time, by ourselves or by others. They are often old, but not always. They can be jewelry, fabric, art or handwritten letters.

Recently, when digging through my boxes of stuff, I came across this sand dollar. I remembered that it had been given to me by a traveling stranger that I met one night at a coffee shop that I frequented while I was in college. I couldn’t remember very much else, so I dug through my drawer of journals until I found an entry from January 1996 in which I had written down the details of the encounter.

The traveling stranger was named Julian and he had picked up the sand dollar on a beach in San Quintin, Baja. He told me that my power was to see the truth and he told me a Lakota story of the Four Directions; the West is black and represents voice, the East is red and represents land, the South is yellow and represents the mind and body and the North is white and represents togetherness.

Now, the younger, naive version of me was enthralled by this story and took it at face value. The older, wiser version of me went straight to the Internet to fact check. I was able to find out that there is a Lakota story of the Four Directions. Many Native Americans tell the story differently, with different colors and attributes ascribed to each direction, but the essence of the story remains the same. It is about balance. I was also able to confirm that you can find sand dollars on the beach in San Quintin, Baja California and they look exactly like this one, small and without the five key holes that are typical of sand dollars. It seems this mysterious stranger was not just giving me lines.

I feel very lucky to have received these gifts, the story and the sand dollar, all those years ago. It was at a time in my life when I was seeking direction and I needed some guidance. I think it is fitting and appropriate that I am now a photographer. I am so glad that I kept the sand dollar and that I wrote down the details of the encounter with Julian, in a way they mean even more to me now.

I keep the sand dollar wrapped in tissue paper and tucked into a glass jar on my shelf. It is delicate and needs protecting. Every time I take it out to look at it, sand falls out of the hole in the back. It sparkles and makes me think of the pixie dust in Peter Pan. The sand dollar is full of lines and the flower-like imprint on the front is amazing. I try to put as much sand as I can back inside when I put it away. A little bit is lost each time though, falling into my lap or stuck on my fingers. It is the price paid for a little inspiration.

When I hold this magical item now, I am inspired to tell stories and to take pictures. I am inspired to share the truth of what I see and experience with others. I remember the unusual person that gave it to me and I wonder where he is now and what he is doing. I imagine he is still telling stories and sharing his wisdom with the world. I think of him as an ancient medicine man, traveling the world, looking for people to heal and inspire. I hope that I can be as wise and generous with others as he was with me.

Today, I would love to see pictures of your magic items, those things in your life that are comforting and special, and to hear the story of how it came into your possession, how long you have had it, and what it means to you.

Image and words courtesy of guest blogger, photographer and artist Leslie Fandrich.

on International Women's Day

Two years ago I visited Haiti for the first time, as a woman. Let me clarify, I have always been a girl, have all the parts and PMS to prove it but something happened to me when I made the decision to visit Haiti. The woman in me emerged.

I spent my toddler years in Haiti, yet when I decided to travel there in 2010, it had been more than 25 years since I had visited. It started with an ambitious list I drafted for myself to accomplish in one years time. My first order of business was to learn more about my culture, "become more Haitian", so to speak. This small task had a sub-goal, instructions if you will, which would make the task easier. Underneath I wrote "reconnect with family" mind you family living in Haiti to whom I had been estranged from since my late teens. I was convinced that it would be that simple: travel to Haiti + connect with estranged family = be more Haitian. As the universe usually does, it responded to my request in a big way. It shook the world, the earth cracked open and so did my heart. The earthquake came and my fate was sealed.

Sometime before I left, I spoke with my aunt who visits the island frequently. I admitted I was afraid of Haiti, of Haitians. I was afraid that I wouldn't know what to say, to do or even how to act. I had no idea what to bring or how I would be received. She, in her stern voice, reminded me that I was going to bring love and I was going to receive love, in this, there was nothing to fear. She was right.

I flew alone to Port-au-Prince. My aunts greeted me at the airport. We drove through the broken streets and I inhaled the scents of my country. Immediately, I was comfortable and in love with these women, my people, myself. I was eager to be out of the car so I could sit with these loves, and have my heart reflected back to me. Finally the moment came when we three could gather in the small seating area of the makeshift refuge and sat and shared. In that moment, my everything was everything. The women of Haiti welcomed me to see myself, to understand what it means to be Haitian and to be a woman of delicious brown color. They cooked for me, they shared stories, they laughed at me and with me. They inspired me. I have never been more clear about my core values. I knew right away that I was blessed. Over the weeks of my visit, I met many wonderful people. I spent time with family and made new friends. Always the women would hold my heart in all it's vulnerability and teach the girl in me how to be a woman. These aunts and mothers and sisters and daughters carry the hurt of Haiti and they bestow the joy of Haiti too.  I was and am so proud to be a woman and to have the honor to carry the words, the wealth and the wisdom of whole cultures and generations.

Today is International Women's Day! Let's celebrate ourselves in gratitude of the many women who inspire us to wonder, to try earnestly and to welcome possibilities. Share an image of yourself with women in your life that have taught you to honor yourself.

Images and words by the wonderful Myriam Loeschen.

weekending by cara

   

Cara shoots images like this with her Hasselblad and spends her weekends soaking in each free moment.

Cara can be found online at Cara Rose Photos and Mortal Muses.

 ............

a note from us at Shutter Sisters:

And with this fine image from Cara, we kick off our "weekending" series. This post will be here today and tomorrow and we do hope you share your weekending links with us here and anywhere else you are on the web. If you hashtag your shots #weekending, we can find each other. And if you want to be considered for a future weekending post, email your image to click at shuttersisters dot com.

 We wish you a wonderful weekend filled with all the things you love.

Her Camera

Three years ago I picked up a camera with one goal in mind. We were starting a family and was determined to avoid paying a professional photographer to take photos that I thought I could learn to achieve on on my own. I was quickly bitten by the photography bug and when we fell pregnant on Mother’s Day 2009 everything seemed to be falling into place. I was gifted a brand new Nikon d90 and upon the baby’s arrival I was confident I’d be able to capture beautiful squishy newborn portraits of our bundle of joy.

 I never expected that things would go terribly wrong.

 At our 20 week sonogram a red flags were raised and we were alarmingly referred to a high risk practice to have them investigated. The vivid memories of our trip to that high risk office will haunt me until the day I die. The technician called us back and rushed us through a series of sonogram photos. She was rough on my belly, she pressed a little to intensely, I could feel our baby kick the technician back as if staying “Stop!”. I wanted her to stop too. Finally she left. Minutes dragged on like hours.

Then, the doctor finally walked in and broke the silence with 5 little words that would change our world forever: “Your baby has multiple problems”.

Without stopping for air, he continued to spout out medical jargon about this syndrome and that syndrome. Things we had never even heard of before. He listed off the numerous organs our baby was missing one by one. So cold. So heartless. We left the office numb, dazed, and confused. That evening, as I googled every little snippet of medical jargon our doctor threw around that day I knew what was coming next.

That's when I broke down in a river of tears for the first time.

We sought a 2nd opinion at Children’s Hospital in Washington DC where a fatal diagnosis was confirmed. Our daughter Bella’s defects were 1 in 20,000. No one expects to be the 1 in 20,000, but somehow the devastating baby loss lottery struck us at 20 weeks pregnant.

Our lives were forever changed.

Bella Rose was stillborn on September 11th, 2009. When we arrived home from the hospital empty handed and broken hearted, flowers began to arrive in mass quantities. I was looking to busy my mind and my hands and I sought a way to collect the beauty of Bella’s blooms and preserve them for when I could truly appreciate them. That’s when I remembered I had her camera. The oneI  intended to be used to to take beautiful images of newborn Bella to fill our walls with canvas and framed prints in our home.

Instead, I picked up Bella’s camera after she died and used it to capture a glimpse into my fragile heart. And then, a magical thing happened.

I discovered photography to be an incredible tool in my healing and I started to shift my perspective. I uncovered small bits of beauty in my broken world. I celebrated the little accomplishments, even something a simple as getting out of bed in the morning. I made it my daily meditation to visually express gratitude for what I did still have left in my life. I blogged images and words that revealed my most private feelings of loneliness and failure after losing an unborn child. But, I also shared how photography was allowing me to experience emotions more fully, learn about myself, and heal my soul.

Do you have a special image you’ve taken that has helped you on a healing journey? I’d love it if you’d share it here today. Let’s celebrate the magical powers of photography in soothing our souls when they are hurting.

 Guest blogger, Beryl Ayn Young, serves as chief photography muse over on her personal blog and serves as teacher of the Illuminate Photography e-course, designed especially for moms who have lost a baby due to stillbirth, miscarriage, or infant loss. She believes in nourishing the soul with lifelong learning, photographic healing, & a glass half full perspective. Beryl photography classes and mentoring aimed at teaching you how to improve your camera skills and cherish life’s journey.

be the creative director of your work

As photographers we are constantly changing and growing. As we discover more about the world, we instinctively discover more about ourselves. Our tastes, likes, dislikes, wants and needs, all influence who we are as people, and who we are as people ultimately shapes who we are as photographers.

For a time, I was confused about who I was as a photographer. When I first started shooting, I would just photograph things that interested me or the things that I instinctively thought would make a good composition. Yet, if someone asked me what type of photographer I was, I had no idea and couldn’t give him or her an answer. I was stuck. I was stuck in the black hole of comparison. Trapped by other people’s images and ideas and felt as though my own vision was being drowned in a sea of bokeh circles and 50mm macro shots. When I started to become bored by my own images, I realised that something had to change.

I realised that I was paying too much attention to the crowd and not enough to my own vision and voice. Who was I shooting for? What story was I trying to tell? I had started shooting for myself in the beginning, and then somewhere along the way I got caught up in the crowd. It was time for me to go back to what was important to me.

Once I let go, I felt free again. I felt like my whole world opened up and I could start shooting for me. It was liberating. Over time, I started to pay attention to what I truly liked about photography, what gave me goose bumps when viewing other people’s photography and what gave me most satisfaction when shooting for myself. By paying attention to my own likes and dislikes, I started to gather pieces of the puzzle that pulled together my own photography style.

I have been shooting this way for a long time now and it’s what makes me happy. I am particular about what I shoot, when I shoot and how I shoot. Every image is sketched out in my mind before I shoot it and they may not all work or have meaning for others, but to me, they tell my story and share my voice.

Through photographing this way over time, my style has developed. I have a set of adjectives I use to describe my photography and I remind myself of those when I shoot. Style is never finished and can always be improved upon. It takes many years to perfect and I am always working on reaching that objective.

I do know this; to nurture style, one must have a goal. We need to figure out where we are now, where we want to be and how we can close the gap between the two. It’s a work in progress and cannot be achieved overnight. We are the creative directors of our own work and we are the only ones who can speak with our own unique voice.

Do you have a clear vision and voice that you share with others?

Please share images that you think best represent you or your style with us!

--------------

Today Amanda is giving away one spot in her Shoot By Design: Refining Your Photography Style photography e-course where she will teach you all she knows about molding your signature style, finding your own voice, share technical tips to get the best out of your camera and show you how to creates strong, passionate images. Leave a comment here before Tuesday 24th 12pm PST to win a place in the Shoot By Design Spring session, starting on March 5th!

You can find out more about Amanda's work on her portfolio and popular blog Mocking Bird. She is also the co-author of the anticipated Instant Love: How To Make Magic and Memories with Polaroids (with Jen Altman and Susannah Conway) published by Chronicle Books.

The winner of the giveaway is Mary! Congratulations, you will receive an email from Amanda shortly.