portraiture

lens-artists: portraits

Ritva has invited photographers “to capture the essence and personality of your subjects. Whether you choose to ask a stranger, do a self-portrait, take the portrait of a friend, family member, or acquaintance, or photograph animals and birds, the goal is to connect with another person or subject and tell their story through your image.”

This past year has engulfed my family into intense grief with the passing of my husband and son-in-law. Both these two men, the bedrocks of the family, endured intense suffering and left us with a deeper understanding of acceptance, compassion, and suffering. There is also gratitude … gratitude for the grounding companionship of emergency response teams, doctors, nurses, support staff, military personnel.

Over the past year, the beauty of the dawn has been a source of encouragement to begin each day anew. An important part of welcoming each new day … its challenges and unknowns … has been photography.

Thank you Rita for this challenge as it invited me to spend a few minutes to play as I explored new ways to perceive life.

lens-artists photo challenge: special moments

“…each moment gives rise to the next, this is because that is. We do not exist in isolation; there is nothing that exist by itself alone.” (cited: Brother Phap Hai, Nothing to it.

On a pitch-dark

night road

I get lost

watching the moon

set behind the faraway mountain. Ryokan (cited: Trans. K Tanahashi, Sky Above, Great Wind)

Clouds drifting off:

the sight of

moonlit heavens ~Kizan (cited: Trans. Y. Hoffman, Japanese Death Poems)

Even more

because of being alone

the moon is a friend ~Buson (cited: Trans: Y Sawa & E M Shiffert, Haiku Master Buson)

This week’s lens-artists photo challenge is hosted by Tina (Travels and Trifles) who invites us to share some of those special moments that have taken our breath away.

be safe, be well, and be sage.

finding self

Who on earth was she when when no one knew she was Hanna…

“But what made the greatest impression during those early days was the man who employed her at the bakery. ‘What’s your name?’
Hanna hesitated for a while before answering, ‘Hanna, Lovisa, Greta . . . Broman.’
‘Married?’


Sony RX1003 f/2.8 1/250 25.7mm 800 ISO

“‘Yes, but my husband’s dead.”’
“’Now, then,’ said the man, noting it down. ‘Date of birth?’
She was silent. She’d never heard anything so silly. He had to repeat it.
‘”When and where were you born, woman?’
She stated both year and parish, got the job . . . she never forgot the foreman’s questions and repeated themselves to herself every evening for a long time afterwards. Name, married, born? To her it was if she’d fallen into a gigantic hollow on Wolf Mountain. Who on earth was she when no one knew she was Hanna Augustdotter from Braten, granddaughter of the rich Erik of Framgarden, and who become the miller’s wife at Norakvattnet?
Fortunately she wasn’t given to brooding. But many a time over the next few years she had to fend off the feeling of having lost her foothold.”

[Fredriksson, M. (1994). Hanna’s Daughters. The Ballantine Publishing Group: New York]

Ryan Pfluge…