Monday, June 10, 2013

Eyes of the Heart Photo Projects: Receiving Images

Paintner writes, "Go on a contemplative walk that will also be a photographic journey....Ask for guidance and wisdom to see everyday things with the eyes of the heart....As you walk, be present to what is calling for your attention....Let your camera be a window into a new way of seeing. Receive the images that come." (Eyes of the Heart, p. 38-39)

I chose to walk around my apartment complex--so familiar and yet I don't often walk through it slowly enough to notice things. I am usually on my way somewhere (probably running late) or on my way home (probably exhausted). I discovered so many treasures today!



Finding room to grow in a hard place



It rained last night, so there were puddles everywhere


Doesn't look like anyone uses this door anymore!


Who knew home renovation trash could be beautiful!



This stovepipe extension (a plastic Coke bottle) had me laughing out loud!


Urban gardening



This bird is probably not angry anymore :o(

One of my very favorites of the day!

This stray dog did great posing for my photo shoot! He even took a few steps closer when I asked if I could take his picture!

One of these things is not like the other...

Are VWs really evil?

A flower in an unexpected place!

Butterfly? Fairy? Rabbit? I like it as a fairy.
All set for a rainy day on the run



I love that painted this ladder orange!
Urban gardener


Wasn't that fun?!!

Eyes of the Heart Photo Projects: Everyday Object



I started discovering about two years ago how the process of taking photos affects my soul and heals deep places (I blogged a little about that in “Healing Flowers”). I have even called it “photo therapy” (that was even before knowing that it is an actual, documented psychotherapy technique)! Sometimes, spending an hour or so with my camera in hand is a form of worship for me….. I have also seen how God has spoken to others through my photos—brought deep peace, led them into worship, etc.

At the beginning of May, I attended a spiritual formation conference at my home church. At the end of the three days, they had us create a growth plan. I could only bring myself to write six words on the page, three of which were under the heading “What spiritual disciplines will you press into?” I wrote: “taking photos” and “writing”. It felt a little weird and un-orthodox as I wrote it, but I knew that’s what God was leading me into.

Then, while shopping on Amazon just a few days later, I came across a book entitled, Eyes of the Heart: Photography as a Christian Contemplative Practice, by Christine Valters Paintner. I nearly jumped up and down and definitely did scream in excitement. 

About two weeks ago, I dug in and began reading. Maybe I should say highlighting. So far, I am underlining just about as many passages as I read with my red colored pencil! It is wonderful for someone else to be putting into words what I have only sensed for so long. Even though I am finding the book fascinating, I want to read with both an open heart and discernment. These concepts are quite outside the theological boxes I grew up with...or are they.... 

At the end of each chapter, Paintner guides the reader through a photography exercise that allows hands-on experience to both practice the concepts she writes about and, in so doing, connect with God in a new way. 

So, in this series of posts, I will be sharing a few of the photos I take during these exercises and what I learn as I take them.

The first exercise: Take 50 photos of an object that you see everyday "but often falls under the radar of your real attention." She wants the reader to cultivate the practice of seeing deeply, of beholding. 

I chose a woven coaster from Guatemala. My mom gave it to me. Its home is the top of my dresser, next to my antique "morning meeting with God chair" and its job is to keep my coffee cup that I set upon it every day from scratching the dresser's petina (which is also an antique). I will spare you all 50 photos, especially because the ones that I like best came about fifteen minutes into the process when I started to get bored and think I was done.