swimming

This afternoon, a friend and I committed to purchase an Epson Stylus Pro 3880 printer.  'Committed' meaning that Visa is in on the deal.  'Committed' meaning that we are serious about taking photographs.  Meaning also that we believe our photographs are worthy of display and, oh dear, that people will actually buy them!

Growing up in Montreal, I often heard the expression 'sink or swim'—in the context of to fail or to succeed.  I found an earlier and rather unsettling definition from The Free Dictionary by Farlex.     (7,709,897,572 visitors served)

sink or swim

This expression alludes to the former barbaric practice of throwing a suspected

witch into deep water, often weighted down.  In case of sinking, the victim died;

in case of swimming, the victim was considered in league with the devil and

therefore was executed.

But, that's not how I see it. The devil has nothing whatsoever to do with it! The water is exhilarating and I plan on swimming!

When Brian and I moved to Victoria twelve years ago, we built an art studio in a corner of our back yard.  At the time, we didn't debate whether or not we would sell enough artwork to cover the construction costs. We knew that we wanted a place to work and play and create art. Over these twelve years, the studio has been a place of great joy and discovery. A place of settling in and refuge. A place for heart-work.

So, I ask myself, why am I now concerned with the final outcome—with the marketing aspect of my photographs? Why think about 'sink or swim' in this context?

My art work has always expressed who I am, deep down into the core of my being.

I have travelled from early expressionist figurative work to bold paintings of flowers and to simple/complex collages.  I have created Talisman Blocks, multidimensional collages on small wooden cubes, standing alone, or stacked to interact with one another. And, most recently, my Memory Shrines, assemblages in small bamboo 'boxes', which delve into my soul-connection with the horrors of the Holocaust. And chairs, always returning to paint chairs!

                   (to view my earlier work, please go to my website:
                                   jackiesaundersritchie.com)

As I ordered the printer, I felt a sense of elation;  knowing that my life is good, and that my picture-taking is connecting me to everyday beauty.

As a repeat failure at seated meditation, my contemplative photography has allowed me to quiet my head and relax into my body.  There are no thoughts that I need to let go of.

There is only me and my camera.