- Published on
May 2022 usher in glimmering light, vibrant color and well-needed balance.
May we all remain patient and kind with each other, especially to oneself.
May I continue to make images celebrating natures gentle moments — the divine moments that make life worth living and
May you continue to be intrigued by them.
And remember,
Breathe deeper
Look deeper
And smile often (even if it hurts)
Live in color,
Abby
May we all remain patient and kind with each other, especially to oneself.
May I continue to make images celebrating natures gentle moments — the divine moments that make life worth living and
May you continue to be intrigued by them.
And remember,
Breathe deeper
Look deeper
And smile often (even if it hurts)
Live in color,
Abby
- Published on
With a tremble in her voice, Leaf asked, “Whoo are you?
“Greetings, my name is Ice.”
“You look a little scary.” said Leaf
“Oh, sweet Leaf, there is no reason to fear me. Why do you think I look scary?” replied Ice
“Well, continued Leaf, “You come in the dark of night, freeze everything in sight— look at you— you are all sharp and pointy.”
“Oh Leaf, I’m sorry I scare you.”
“So why are you here.” stuttered Leaf.
“I am here, dear Leaf, to teach you the importance of being still. You have worked very hard all season providing shade for the birds, turning light into energy and you even clean the air we breath. You must be exhausted. Now is the time to rest. You job is done.”
With a softened voice Leaf said, “Thank you for recognizing all that I do, and yes, I am a bit tired.”
And so, Ice and Leaf laid quietly together.
Still at last.
“Greetings, my name is Ice.”
“You look a little scary.” said Leaf
“Oh, sweet Leaf, there is no reason to fear me. Why do you think I look scary?” replied Ice
“Well, continued Leaf, “You come in the dark of night, freeze everything in sight— look at you— you are all sharp and pointy.”
“Oh Leaf, I’m sorry I scare you.”
“So why are you here.” stuttered Leaf.
“I am here, dear Leaf, to teach you the importance of being still. You have worked very hard all season providing shade for the birds, turning light into energy and you even clean the air we breath. You must be exhausted. Now is the time to rest. You job is done.”
With a softened voice Leaf said, “Thank you for recognizing all that I do, and yes, I am a bit tired.”
And so, Ice and Leaf laid quietly together.
Still at last.
Live in color,
Abby
Abby
- Published on
What will be my lasting impression?
Beach-combing along the Oregon coastline revealed more than sand and stones. Along the ruggedly lush, often otherworldly shoreline I discovered one striking stone imprint after another.
Beach-combing along the Oregon coastline revealed more than sand and stones. Along the ruggedly lush, often otherworldly shoreline I discovered one striking stone imprint after another.
Igneous sediment from ancient volcanic activity paints a frame of brackish sand around each rock. A seemingly featureless rock is then elevated into a work of art.
For centuries, these rocks have been polished by the tides, then tumbled, washed and jostled to shore. Once the stone is nestled on the beach the volcanic sand sweeps and swirls around the nugget painting a stunning, vividly transient pattern. The occasional strand of seaweed, or lost feather, is then added by Mother Nature for compositional interest.
Which made me think: what will be my lasting impression for being tumbled, washed and jostled through life?
Like the humble beach rock, I can only hope my lasting imprint will also be one of endurance and beauty.
Live in color,
Abby
And Happy Thanksgiving
Abby
And Happy Thanksgiving
- Published on
I fought very hard to acquire the land on which I now live. I had to fight equally as hard to save a tree, my sentry.
She’s a tall maple, over 50 feet, rather scrawny and crooked. She leans into the weather with a defiant, bring it on attitude. She rises from the ground just 25 feet from the front of my house. Going against all recommendations to cut her down, because of her proximity to my dwelling, we both remain, defiant.
For almost 30 years now she has unceremoniously blocked fierce winds, warned me of impending storms with the rattle of her leaves and held her ground. I never regarded her as a potential threat, but as my stalwart sentry.
She’s a tall maple, over 50 feet, rather scrawny and crooked. She leans into the weather with a defiant, bring it on attitude. She rises from the ground just 25 feet from the front of my house. Going against all recommendations to cut her down, because of her proximity to my dwelling, we both remain, defiant.
For almost 30 years now she has unceremoniously blocked fierce winds, warned me of impending storms with the rattle of her leaves and held her ground. I never regarded her as a potential threat, but as my stalwart sentry.
Last night, under a canopy of stars, I thanked her.
Two old gals under the stars, both battered, weathered but, against all odds, still standing. We reminisced about the years of storms we endured and now with hindsight, realized it just made us grow our roots deeper and stronger.
There are days where we are both tired…
Then there are evenings like these, with our heads in the stars. Both conscious of our similarities and our connected presence. Tonight, how can we feel anything but gratitude for this glorious ride we call life? Bumps and all.
Two old gals under the stars, both battered, weathered but, against all odds, still standing. We reminisced about the years of storms we endured and now with hindsight, realized it just made us grow our roots deeper and stronger.
There are days where we are both tired…
Then there are evenings like these, with our heads in the stars. Both conscious of our similarities and our connected presence. Tonight, how can we feel anything but gratitude for this glorious ride we call life? Bumps and all.
Live in color,
Abby
Abby
- Published on
Do you have a photo, after years of making images, that you have never shared? The reasons may be many, too personal, not mainstream enough…the list goes on.
I have such an image. My image was made back in my travel days, while visiting Dharamshala, India. This image keeps talking to me. Why is unclear.
On a crisp March morning I decided to explore the hiking trails of the Tushita Meditation Center, located in the forested hills behind the town where His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama resides.
These hiking trails take a circuitous route through the coniferous hills. I wandered the forest surrounded by towering cedars. It was a place where I could get lost in thought, or better yet free myself from thought completely.
I believe when one clears the mind, one becomes a receiver. Being still allows ones static to subside, making someone more susceptible to receive the waves of energy rolling in all around us. On that hike I became a high frequency receiver.
I took the elevated trail, thinking as a photographer, to catch a view. On reflection, it’s curious how I was looking for a reward for the trek up the hill. Is that where I have come, programmed for a payoff?
Ultimately, I found no view. Instead, I stopped at a bend in the trail to just be. Looking up towards the dappled light, then down to more meandering trails, I simply took in the splendor of the moment. There were no distant views, no dreamy landscapes, nothing but time and space.
Then they appeared.
Two monks, in deliberate step came into view. Click. Then I had a moment. Nothing exciting was going on. However, somehow I knew not to dismiss this moment.
Years later, I still return to this image, wondering why after making thousands of images this particular birds-eye image has never left my consciousness. After much examination, I found a poignancy and simplicity in the photo. This one image conveyed companionship, contemplation and communication with nature — all found at the core of my being.
Another detail arose from this image. Being a gypsy at heart, I find it difficult to stay put. Travel refines me. I need to get lost in order to be found.
Not a bad message from just one image.
So I ask you, do you have a single image with a moment that haunts you? My suggestion, go back and relive that moment. Ask yourself the Why questions. You might be astonished with what you uncover.
Live in color,
Abby
P.S. This post comes out of boredom. Boredom with posting images on social media. In the past few months I seem to be just grinding out images. This post is my attempt to slow down and to re-examine. This re-examination begins by asking those Why questions of myself, by swinging open the doors and windows of what’s left of my creative mind, allowing fresh air to waft through my musty corridors. A sort of spring cleaning for my imagination.
I have such an image. My image was made back in my travel days, while visiting Dharamshala, India. This image keeps talking to me. Why is unclear.
On a crisp March morning I decided to explore the hiking trails of the Tushita Meditation Center, located in the forested hills behind the town where His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama resides.
These hiking trails take a circuitous route through the coniferous hills. I wandered the forest surrounded by towering cedars. It was a place where I could get lost in thought, or better yet free myself from thought completely.
I believe when one clears the mind, one becomes a receiver. Being still allows ones static to subside, making someone more susceptible to receive the waves of energy rolling in all around us. On that hike I became a high frequency receiver.
I took the elevated trail, thinking as a photographer, to catch a view. On reflection, it’s curious how I was looking for a reward for the trek up the hill. Is that where I have come, programmed for a payoff?
Ultimately, I found no view. Instead, I stopped at a bend in the trail to just be. Looking up towards the dappled light, then down to more meandering trails, I simply took in the splendor of the moment. There were no distant views, no dreamy landscapes, nothing but time and space.
Then they appeared.
Two monks, in deliberate step came into view. Click. Then I had a moment. Nothing exciting was going on. However, somehow I knew not to dismiss this moment.
Years later, I still return to this image, wondering why after making thousands of images this particular birds-eye image has never left my consciousness. After much examination, I found a poignancy and simplicity in the photo. This one image conveyed companionship, contemplation and communication with nature — all found at the core of my being.
Another detail arose from this image. Being a gypsy at heart, I find it difficult to stay put. Travel refines me. I need to get lost in order to be found.
Not a bad message from just one image.
So I ask you, do you have a single image with a moment that haunts you? My suggestion, go back and relive that moment. Ask yourself the Why questions. You might be astonished with what you uncover.
Live in color,
Abby
P.S. This post comes out of boredom. Boredom with posting images on social media. In the past few months I seem to be just grinding out images. This post is my attempt to slow down and to re-examine. This re-examination begins by asking those Why questions of myself, by swinging open the doors and windows of what’s left of my creative mind, allowing fresh air to waft through my musty corridors. A sort of spring cleaning for my imagination.
- Published on
There once was a little girl who was simpatico with the sea. At a very young age, she accepted the water’s unpredictability and understood her moods. She found they both, had much in common. One day our young innocent could be calm and the next, filled with unrest and turmoil, not much different from Sea.
Most of her summer days were spent gliding across Sea’s surface in search of adventure. Sea never disappointed. Sea introduced our heroine to sandbars, unruly currents and the gloom of fog. Each challenging her not to compete, but to comply to Sea’s whims.
For all her formidable years their relationship flourished. Sea taught her resilience, bravery and, the most important lesson of all, the importance of being buoyant. Fighting against the currents can lead to exhaustion, but floating allowed her to glide through most riptides.
For all her formidable years their relationship flourished. Sea taught her resilience, bravery and, the most important lesson of all, the importance of being buoyant. Fighting against the currents can lead to exhaustion, but floating allowed her to glide through most riptides.
Our little girl is now a seasoned captain of her own ship. She is forever thankful for what Sea has taught her. She visits Sea just a few times a year now, but when she does she returns to being that little girl adrift with her best friend.
Live in color,
Abby
Abby
- Published on
“I surrender,” said Birch. “Winter, you are the most powerful and formidable force. I bow before you.”
The day was April 16th. The firewood was stored away. The wicker furniture was cleaned and brought into the screened-in porch and the buds on the trees began to swell with life. The morning air had turned warm and sweet, as the forest grew noisy with the flutter of activity, with its residents re-emerging. Then, in the darkness of night, the clouds rolled in.
Just when I thought I figured it all out and was so sure what comes next, Mother Nature laughed.
The day was April 16th. The firewood was stored away. The wicker furniture was cleaned and brought into the screened-in porch and the buds on the trees began to swell with life. The morning air had turned warm and sweet, as the forest grew noisy with the flutter of activity, with its residents re-emerging. Then, in the darkness of night, the clouds rolled in.
Just when I thought I figured it all out and was so sure what comes next, Mother Nature laughed.
The following morning I woke to pure beauty. Overnight, six inches of heavy, gleaming snow blanketed the landscape. Spring succumbed to Winter, which caused every creature large and small to pause.
Winter reappeared for one final grand display. The meadow was transformed into a pristine, dreamlike setting where the world, in a wink, was silenced by Grace.
If I am to surrender to anyone or anything, let me surrender to Beauty.
If I am to surrender to anyone or anything, let me surrender to Beauty.
Live in color,
Abby
- Published on
Why do I crave the sea?
Is it the raw, untamed elements shifting before my eyes? Or is it the fresh, intoxicating air filling my lungs? For me it’s really about the lack of human mishegas, a special kind of madness only people can manufacture.
Is it the raw, untamed elements shifting before my eyes? Or is it the fresh, intoxicating air filling my lungs? For me it’s really about the lack of human mishegas, a special kind of madness only people can manufacture.
There is a simplicity and order to a seascape. Sure, it has its moments of turmoil and unrest, but somehow I have a built-in assurance that balance will return, and it always does.
Our world has severely lost its balance. I am deeply concerned.
Our world has severely lost its balance. I am deeply concerned.
In the hopes of keeping some semblance of sanity, while overwhelmed by the incessant madness, I keep returning to the sea. There I will luxuriate in her pristine beauty while yearning for our world to find its equilibrium. Then I will listen, but more importantly, learn from her unhurried wisdom.
Let there be balance.
Live in color,
Abby
Live in color,
Abby
- Published on
Its light is undeniable. Its intensity has been known to turn a non-believer into a born again mystic. What holds such radiant power?
The moon.
There are 12 (sometimes 13) full moons in a year. Out of those 12, probably half are clearly visible. Six times in a year, if I am very lucky, I am washed in celestial energy.
The moon.
There are 12 (sometimes 13) full moons in a year. Out of those 12, probably half are clearly visible. Six times in a year, if I am very lucky, I am washed in celestial energy.
Now that we are all in a, make the best of a bad situation scenario, the moon has become my lifeline. This silver, shimmering orb shakes me from my dull, monotonous funk, replacing it with the wonder of being alive. It’s a slap across my face from Mother Nature saying, “Snap out of it”, said with a thick Brooklyn accent.
Under the super-charged glow of January’s Wolf moon, I entered an alternate dimension. It was a space where the mundane, analytical mind shuts off. Logic was momentarily suspended and replaced with sheer amazement.
Under the super-charged glow of January’s Wolf moon, I entered an alternate dimension. It was a space where the mundane, analytical mind shuts off. Logic was momentarily suspended and replaced with sheer amazement.
Finally, I awoke from my dreary slumber.
Live in color,
Abby
Live in color,
Abby
- Published on
“Ice contains no future, just the past, sealed away.
As if alive, everything in the world is sealed up inside, clear and distinct.
Ice can preserve all kinds of things that way - cleanly, clearly.
That's the essence of ice, the role it plays.”
― Haruki Murakami, Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman
Live in color,
Abby
Abby