Coming together and falling apart is what nature does. So why would I expect anything different for myself? 

Nature consists of cycles. It relies on its rhythm for renewal. It’s not shocked when damage occurs, it just continues with its cycle. It doesn’t need reassurances that everything will be okay, it just accepts what is.

The lone journey of a dandelion is a complex one that illustrates this point. With a debut in early spring, its arrival is heralded by its brilliant golden color. Later in the season the yellow blossoms give way to white seeds ultimately meant to take flight. Then taking root, sprouting leaves, making flowers, making seeds, taking flight, taking root, sprouting leaves, making flowers, making seeds and taking flight…

Sometimes I have to fall apart to come together in a better way. Is this my time for renewal? I refuse to get sucked into the chaos. It’s time to loosen my grip on control and trust the cycles. It’s time to dwell in the soft places between quiet and madness.

Live in color,

Abby

This brilliant quote is by Pema Chodron, found in her survival guide titled, When Things Fall Apart.

Have you ever noticed the amount of time you spend waiting?

​We are all guilty. We wait for the perfect partner, the dream job, the next exotic vacation, dinner or even the mail.

Really? Is that how you want to spend your life?

This week, reading more and tuning into the morning and evening news programs with more frequency, I am reminded how many of us reside in life’s waiting room.

You have heard it before, within every tragedy lies important lessons to be learned. After being at home, on Long Island on 911, I learned lessons, lessons which I still carry with me today. Today, my hope is we walk away from this pandemic a little wiser. There is an abundance of lessons to be learned from this moment. I believe one of the most valuable is the renewed appreciation of time.

Many of us have separated ourselves from ourself. When a still moment arises we run to fill it with an activity. Pick your poison, you grab your phone, you turn on the tv, you open the refrigerator. Is the refrigerator really where your fulfillment lies? 

This pandemic offers the opportunity for a little self examination. 

Notice how much time you spend waiting. Now is the time to fill each moment with substance. Infuse those spaces with awareness and gratitude for what you have, not what you lost. 

In the coming weeks we will experience many moments needing to be filled, chose wisely. Don’t look to just fill a moment, look to enrich it.

Live in color,

Abby

The images that accompany this text are from last fall. On one of the first crisp mornings I found a iridescent olive green and gray warbler, lying lifeless on my deck.

For the next several hours I documented the beauty and intricacies of this fragile creature. I expanded her wings to reveal a perfect accordion fold of feathers. I was in awe of her gloriously vaned plumes, each having their own harmonious rhythm, as they slipped through my fingers.

That afternoon I took the time to take in the exquisite patterning of nature. To revel in the well-balanced, almost mathematical order of lines that made up her wingspan, but most of all to celebrate the grace with which she once filled the sky.

There is something you can do now to make yourself and the people around you feel better in these uncertain times.

Smile.

On my once a week outing, I learned a critical lesson. Driving down my mud soaked road I passed a gal walking her dog, our eyes met, and without thinking, smiled at each other. A momentary wave of calm washed over me. Arriving at the health food store a charming girl with a huge smile brought my pre-ordered box of groceries out to my car and I reciprocated with even a bigger smile. Again, a sensation of calm.

I always attributed my smile to my successful worldwide travel. I discovered when language or cultural differences get in the way, a smile can melt away barriers. Well, let’s melt away some of the current fear. Find a reason to smile. 

This simple human gesture can have a profound affect on others, including yourself, offering a connection and a sense of well-being. Smile at your partner, your child, and if you are alone, smile at yourself in the mirror. It’s contagious, the good kind.

Smile though your heart is aching
Smile even though it's breaking
When there are clouds in the sky, you'll get by
If you smile through your fear and sorrow
Smile and maybe tomorrow
You'll see the sun come shining through for you

Light up your face with gladness
Hide every trace of sadness
Although a tear may be ever so near

That's the time you must keep on trying
Smile, what's the use of crying?
You'll find that life is still worthwhile
If you just smile

Music and lyrics by
Charles Chaplin, John Turner and Geoffrey Parsons

​Live in color,

Abby

What do you lust for?

Now that I am comfortably settled in my latter years, I find I require less stuff to make me happy. The days of searching for the next great thing to amuse, stimulate or entertain me are pretty much over.

It has taken me 68 years to figure out I am the only one that is responsible for my own happiness. Looking outside myself for some type of gratification is fruitless. The nurturing of my own inner contentment and peace is my only salvation.

I am fortunate to find great joy in a sunset, an ice pattern found on my driveway or a shadow casting a long, late day impression on a glistening snowscape. These are all gifts I recognize, and I am thankful I have the ability to see them.

Today, I lust for engagement with the world around me. I lust for the discovery of both the hidden and apparent natural beauty within eyeshot. I lust for the unexpected awe found in the ripples of a stream. I lust for an appreciation and gratitude for this “one wild and precious life”.

What do you lust for?

Live in color,

Abby

It’s spectacular, isn’t it. I’m talking about the world in which we live.

Every day the moon rises and sets, and tides flow in and out effortlessly with an unflappable rhythm. The natural world knows its place. There’s no moaning or complaining, just an understanding of a job that needs to be done.

Humans muck things up.

We have become the bully in nature’s playground, taunting, challenging and ultimately dominating. Can’t we all just play nice?

It’s time to reacquaint ourselves with the crispness of the morning air, the sparkle of freshly fallen snow and the resilience of a swift stream. It’s time to renew our reverence, respect, and humility for the world in which we live. It’s time to reconnect.

Just for a second, abandon your egocentric view and imagine being part of something grander. Envision being an integral part of our planets very survival — for you are.

Now take a moment and get your head out of your devices, and at the minimum, look out the window, or better yet, go for a walk in the woods. Be prepared to be astonished.

Now is the time.

Live in color,

Abby

​The recognition in his eyes had all but disappeared for his wife of sixty-two years however, her devotion towards him created a new portal of connection.

This is a love story that was a lifetime in the making. Their six decade marriage had taken them through the good times with ease and joy, and the difficult times with patience and resilience. They survived the challenges of a long relationship, showing us what a successful marriage can look like.

Now in the winter of their years, they continue to lean on each other for the essential human connection we all hunger for. The evidence of passing time is apparent for them both, him more so than her. With a diagnosis of multiple degenerative diseases affecting his brain, he now resides in a sporadic state of confusion. He has all but lost his ability to recognize the once familiar, experiencing only moments of clarity.

They both struggle with their current situation, but cope as best they can. He spends his days adrift in his fog and she, at times, is devastated and adrift without him. 

If you have ever experienced anyone with a cognitive dysfunction, the moments, however brief, of recognition are truly gifts.

Most days, his eyes fall blank, void of any memory. Until, she does one thing. 

​She sits next to him, moves in close, lovingly puts her arm around his back, pulling him in even closer, then gently presses her lips to his. In a flash his haze dissipates and his mental clarity returns as their lips touch. He sees his wife once again and has enough time to say, Inesinha, his endearing pet name for her. Moments later his mental fog rolls back in clouding, then suffocating his recall.

This elegant couple is Ines and Waldyr Bastos. They are my daughter-in-laws grandparents, presently residing in an assisted-living facility in São Paulo, Brazil.

​Hold dear to your own moments, for they are fleeting. Days pass, but moments are forever.

Happy Valentines Day.

Live in color,

Abby

Somewhere between,
Land and sea,
Light and dark,
And peace and chaos,
Lies a world we think we know, or do we really?

We quickly label everything and rarely stray from its given designation. Until we look, really look at something does it unveil its complexity and seamless transmutation into something other.​

It is that other I am drawn to. 

Discovering the other is better than walking down the stairs Christmas morning to a roomful of glittering gifts. The other is the ultimate gift, the reward for having persistence to see. 

On a recent visit to Provincetown I found more than sand and sea. I found the warp and weft of light and texture. It was difficult to see sand for sand, or water for water, for the interplay of the two created the other. 

Life is in constant flux. It is in that flux that labels disappear, and new identities emerge. 

Welcome the flux. 

Live in color,
Abby

​Some mornings are noteworthy. January 1st, 2020 was one of those unforgettable mornings.

With the sun still below the horizon, indirect light slowly illuminates the nearby mountain ridge. This morning’s light comes with a tall order. It needs to herald in not only a new day, a new year, and a new decade, but also a new vision. 

Could the painterly strokes that dress the morning air be a sign of good things yet to come? 

​This is the year of 20/20 vision. A clarity of sight and expression is needed now more than ever. Just seeing is no longer enough, seeing deeply is required. With decades passing me by as quickly as years, I feel an urgency to pay attention.

This morning I did just that. I took a front row seat to the morning’s spectacle, acknowledged the day was a gift, and mumbled to myself, “now don’t blow it.”

Happy New Year

Live in color,

Abby 

One thousand and five hundred days and 60 posts later, I have a new look.

After four years, Perspectives is now retired and a new website with more of a focus on my photography, is now up and running. Welcome to Abby Raeder Contemplative Photographer.

Any serious sojourn into photography, I believe, has less to do with the technical aspect of the camera and more to do with what is rattling around in the head of the photographer. So many questions arise in finding your photographic voice. Why am I making images? What is it that I need to say? Does anyone care?

Reflecting on those exact questions is how I have spent most of the last four years  My pursuit has been about creating more meaningful images as opposed to more pretty pictures. I have had countless reviews, attempting to guide me through this developmental stage, with little constructive advise other than, find your audience. That’s kind of like the old Steve Martin routine. Martin goes on to explain how you can get away with not paying any income taxes. His advise 1. Make a million dollars. 2. Tell the IRS, I forgot.

Life is never that simple, and neither is photography.

What I have uncovered in my process is my apparent connection to nature. I have learned there are innumerable life lessons that are available to one who carefully listens during a walk in the woods or along a windswept seashore. Nature holds more wisdom than a bevy of monks perched atop a Himalayan peak.

In the coming months I hope you will enjoy my new look and continue to read my occasional posts, under the tab Musings. I will be out and about making connections and images which I look forward to sharing with you. In the meantime, I encourage you to take a walk under your own leafy canopy to listen and learn.

Live in color,
Abby

This making art stuff isn’t easy. 

Once you have mastered your tools, all that’s left to focus on is you, the artist. That’s the space that is lonely and filled with doubt.

Making art is like being in therapy three times a week, with your therapist on speed dial. The process is filled with self-examination. Questions arise. What is it I really have to say? Does anyone care? Do I matter?

Anyone making art contributes their own flavor to a creative stew. Some add the spice, some add the stock that holds everything together and some add the garnish. All are essential to a rich and satisfying meal.

Pretty art may be considered the garnish, trite and superficial. But is it? During a 5-star dining experience, the visual is just as important as the taste. Pretty becomes the lure for you to pick up your fork and taste, to dive deeper into the complexity of the dish.

I may be putting my head on the chopping block, but I make pretty art. Not superficial or trite art, but art that uses pretty to draw you in. Ultimately, I want you to be seduced by my images, then astonished by nature’s magical and transformative beauty.

​The challenging part of navigating my artistic journey is to stay true to who I am as an artist and not be swayed by the flavor of the moment. Provocative, edgy art seems to be the current flavor. I’ve seen enough disturbing art that my antacids are always within reach.

Let’s not let pretty get a bad rap. Where would we be without pretty? I don’t want to be in a world that considers a sunset trite, or a rainbow hokey, or the morning light on the ebbing tide, banal.

Self-analysis is crucial in the art making process, but giving yourself permission to be authentically you, is paramount.

Gotta run, there’s a rainbow hovering over my meadow.

Live in color, 
Abby