The Unbearable....

August 3, 2016

lightness of being a woman.

Taken with a 50mm lens, at f/1.8, the focus here is on the bouquet of dried roses, with the body of a woman in the blur. The image speaks of the process of aging, of staying vital and beautiful as the years mount. There is such pressure on women to look a certain way, to conform to a certain standard of beauty. And even though we age, the arbitrary standard never does. It is always young and firm, bouncy and round, supple and sinuous.

Unlike a good wine, with humans, aging is complicated. We continue to get better in certain ways, and yet we decline in others. There is a give and take that occurs. What we gain in wisdom, we lose in elasticity. I had a friend who was in her 90's and she said that when she randomly caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, she wondered for a second who that old woman was, the one looking back at her. When asked how old she felt on the inside, she said, "I feel about 25, maybe 30." And then she smiled, and I could see her as the ten year old girl she had once been. Her eyes still had that twinkle, that spark, even though her face bore the marks of the passing of the years. There was a lightness in her spirit.

My friend was a lot like this bouquet of flowers. When I look at them, they are dried, wrinkled, crispy, and yet I see beauty there in the creases, evidence of having lived. I see perfection in their imperfections. I keep them around because of the memories associated with them. They remind me of one of the happiest occasions of my life. I see beyond the dessication.

There are other photos in this series, which I will be sharing and writing about soon. Please stay tuned for more.

Until next time...

Anne

Black Umbrella

September 4, 2014

Black umbrellas have long been a favorite theme of mine in both paintings and photography. The first time I saw the painting Paris Street; Rainy Day by Gustave Caillebotte I was mesmerized. There is something about the way the light kisses the umbrellas in that painting that captivates me.

I have always had an affinity for umbrellas anyway. They embody the romance of a rainy day and seem to be among the most feminine of utilitarian objects, with their sensuous lines; fabric stretched tightly over sheltering ribs, like a corset; the perfect curve of the wooden handle, the elongated tip at the top pulling it all together.

This series of photographs pays homage to the umbrella, to its flirtation with the morning light, and the mystery created beneath its protective arms.

The lake in which I am standing in these photographs further adds to the mystery, the whimsy, and the painterly quality of these images. And the umbrella brings a new element to my Ladies of the Lake Series. To me, this seems the perfect marriage of light and shadow, of depth and atmosphere, of the practical and the improbable.

Until next time...

Anne

Great-Grandma Esther's Apron

August 11, 2014

In these images, which were taken last week, I am wearing an apron that had belonged to my great-grandmother, Esther. She died in 1972 when I was a small child, and unfortunately, I have no memory of her. My mom has told me over the years that I am similar to her in some key ways. I find it fascinating how some traits that we think are uniquely ours actually are passed down through the genetic code. I look at my grandma, my mom, my daughter, my aunts, my cousins, and I see the physical resemblances. Those are obvious and understandable to me. It is the personality traits that interest me more. Both Grandma Esther and I shared a deep fondness for beauty and have a way bringing that in our homes and our lives. And so, I have always felt this connection with her. These images honor that connection.

These photographs also celebrate morning light, and the rural landscape that surrounds me. Grandma Esther lived in rural areas of both southern Wisconsin and northern Wisconsin, and so we have that in common also. The photos seem to speak of times past, yet I am unable to place them in a specific era.

Until next time...

Anne