clarity begs for surrender

“We are what we think.
All that we are arises with our thoughts.
With our thoughts we make the world.
Speak or act with an impure mind,
And trouble will follow you
As the wheel follows the ox that draws the cart.

We are what we think.
All that we are arises with our thoughts.
With our thoughts we make the world.
Speak or act with a pure mind,
And happiness will follow you
As your shadow, unbreakable.”

— Buddha

August 11, 2016 - Daily Notes, From the Editor

I surrender.

I did that thing yesterday where you post your perspective related to politics on your personal Facebook page. Have you ever done that? Holy moly. Why did I do that? Is "ugh" a real word? Did I really need to open my mental and heart spaces up to the sort of rants that can result? I keep letting out these huge sighs.

Social media can be difficult to navigate with clarity.

I love the connection, sharing of ideas and access to new information. It feels sweet to post photographs of my delightful niece as she grows. It feels encouraging to hear feedback when I share my writing. It feels gratifying to watch Lucia's readership grow. It feels rewarding to give "likes" away to others, tiny dopamine gifts I get to scatter like stars in the summer sky.

But it is also a recipe for overwhelm, wasted time, squandered attention and misdirected energy. If I am not careful (and even when I am) it becomes a black hole that drains creativity faster than anything else I've encountered.

This morning I was nervous about logging back on. What new ugly or uncomfortable thing might be sitting there waiting for me? How would I respond? How much does it matter to me? Why? I could feel my precious energy being sucked into the vortex before even turning on the machine.  

One of my dear friends, who I met years ago when I lived in Washington, D.C., is Buddhist and a former journalist. He inspires me regularly by walking the line on social media--sharing his feelings, personal history, and informed perspective on (often difficult) topics and current events. The words he chooses to share are remarkably loving, kind, curious and courteous, even when others' are not. His principles and boundaries are clear.

His post was the first thing I saw this morning. He seemed to be sharing his own struggle with the same thing I am questioning...how on earth to navigate social media during this time of incredible change and maintain self-respect, compassion, kindness, clarity, and grace. He shared these words from a 2,500 year old teacher known as the Buddha:

We are what we think.
All that we are arises with our thoughts.
With our thoughts we make the world.
Speak or act with an impure mind, 
And trouble will follow you
As the wheel follows the ox that draws the cart.

We are what we think.
All that we are arises with our thoughts.
With our thoughts we make the world.
Speak or act with a pure mind, 
And happiness will follow you
As your shadow, unbreakable.

I decided I need a clarity break. My thoughts are engulfed and flooded with what I find on social media as I scroll, scroll, scroll. "Pure mind" sounds like a shining body of water I can see glinting on the horizon, and I am the thirsty nomad who has managed to wander only halfway through August. It's not too late for a social media summer vacation.

The things I want to write, read, create and do for Lucia are here in front of my nose, in living color. I don't need to be in the matrix to do them. August is waiting just out my front door. Creativity is calling, and her voice sounds sweet. 

See you in September, Facebook.

I surrender.

xo
laura

what is expected

“It felt so private before. I didn’t share them with anyone other than the women themselves, not even my husband, until the show went up.”

— Meryl Alcabes, Photographer

By Laura Lowery

Sometimes, if you do your best to remain curious and observant, you stumble on magic. When it happens, you know. The heart beats differently, the breath deepens, and time pauses for a moment--just long enough to tell your husband, "You go on ahead, I'll catch up. I need ten more minutes with these photographs."

This is how Lucia's online editor, Sarah Childers, discovered Meryl Alcabes' series of portraits. What Is Expected is on exhibit now at the Photographic Center Northwest (PCNW). 

Meryl's photographs of the women in her traditionally observant Seattle Seward Park Jewish community are gorgeous and evocative, mysterious and metaphorical. They call on something deep. 

Mesmerized, I met her over coffee on a sunny day near her home and asked what was at the heart of this project for her, personally?

Her story begins with becoming a professional photographer, always busy taking pictures for other people, while longing to exercise her artistry creating something of her own. She enrolled in the certificate program at the PCNW, the culmination of which is a year-long personal photography project and thesis exhibition. 

"I asked myself what is the most influential thing in my life that I really care about?," she recalled. "The answer is my community." Meryl and her husband chose to move into an Orthodox Jewish community about 25 years ago. They were not Orthodox. 

“We really had no idea. We had no idea what was expected. We learned pretty quickly.”

— Meryl Alcabes

"We really had no idea," she says with a laugh. "We had no idea what was expected. We learned pretty quickly. Turns out if you want to be part of the community you really have to keep kosher, not dress in certain ways, and you can't work on Saturday. What interested me the most, though, was the women's role in the community."

Her portraits explore Jewish women's cultural identity, and each image is tied to a ritual, a verse in Hebrew, a behavior, a lesson, or some other significant aspect of the tradition.

For example, the photograph she titled Mikveh is about the traditional bath Jewish women go to once a month. As a private ritual, mikveh is not talked about very much and certainly never photographed, she explains. The water must be natural, the purpose is to purify.

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Mikveh by Meryl Alcabes

"I wanted all of my images to be metaphorical and represent what this tradition is about," says Meryl. "Not to photograph it literally."

For Mikveh she dressed her model (all of her models for this project are women in her community) in a modest, vintage white linen and lace dress to represent purity. The woman's feet are bare to represent the way one enters the mikveh bath, naked. She is wading into a lake because bathing in natural water is essential to the ritual.

“These images form a visual document of my introduction to this way of life, and my initial reactions to some of the customs I encountered when I chose to join this community—behaviors that are crucial to fitting in.”

— Meryl Alcabes

Meryl printed each photograph in the series on Japanese Kozo, a handmade mulberry paper, and then used beeswax to make them translucent. The effect is stunning. Light moves through each image like a subtle whisper, drawing you in without drowning you out.

I often use the word magic to describe the experience of feeling unexpectedly connected to and touched by a powerful truth, something larger than words alone can illustrate. Meryl's photographs evoke this. They are quietly masterful, softly powerful, and deeply moving.

What Is Expected is hanging at PCNW in Seattle until August 14th. This weekend (August 4-7) is the Seattle Art Fair and Meryl's photograph Mikveh will be on display.

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Meryl Alcabes is a Seattle-based photographer who is known for her inspired event photography and her colorful, expressive portraits. Meryl's creativity and enthusiasm are unmistakable hallmarks of her images. Her rapport with people is evident in her work. Find her online at www.merylalcabes.com, and connect with her on Facebook at /merylalcabesphotography.

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Laura Lowery is the founder, editor and publisher of Lucia. She does her best to lead a creative life. Whether triumphant or stumbling, Laura shares daily notes (that are often weekly) here on luciajournal, including stories, behind-the-scenes happenings, little doses of inspiration, and large quantities of curiosity and heart. She is pleased to meet you.

only what is ripe

August 4, 2016 - Daily Notes, From the Editor

August always arrives with a chest-twinge. Summer is waning and the urge is strong to grab everything I can. I want to do all of the things before it ends.

What is this urge? I feel it in my work to grow Lucia. It feel it in my love relationship, too. I want to have all of the answers and make all of the memories, preferably before September. 

"What do you need right now?," he asked. It was late Friday night and we were stealing a found hour together at the end of a work week, the way real couples do. A candle glowed between us and our necks were tilted back to gaze at the small handful of stars visible through Seattle's city lights.

"Two days away from town," I replied. "With you, in nature. I want to sleep under cedars and stars." 

He arrived Sunday morning with a broad smile and a Subaru filled with gear, food, air mattresses and music. This relationship is still tender, unfinished, uncertain, unknown. It is also adventurous, comedic, patient and brave.

Marrowstone Island is off the beaten path. We rolled in without a reservation, like outlaws, asking every ranger we met to help settle our wager over whether a particular variety of tree is named "madrone" or "madrona."

A high-cliff campsite was available and from it we could see the sea. Fresh saltwater air and the cluster of old growth cedars around the fire pit sealed the deal. Our tent went up beneath a massive "madrone" (ahem) and I exhaled completely. 

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The next day I point-shouted out the window as we drove the long country road, "Blackberries!" He braked, threw it in reverse, and parked in the hot sun. We barely said another word and climbed out of the car. I went left, he went right. We got straight to work.

Some of the fruit was deep black and bursting, but most of the berries within reach were not quite ripe. You know the kind, mostly black but with one or two small spots of red. Still firm to the touch, they needed more time in the sun. In my eagerness to grab everything this summer has to offer before it ends, I picked all of them. Completely, with abandon. 

We met back at the car, my gray hat filled with sweet and sour berries. I looked into his strong, patient palms and saw he had only picked the fattest, softest, ripest ones. He shared them all with me.

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The next day, my sister texted some photos of my two-year-old niece directing the blackberry-picking behind their house. "Da bwack ones!" she exclaims, pointing them out for her mother to reach. As in, "Don't pick the ones that aren't ripe yet, Mama."

Leave them be. It is August. Savor what is sweet. Let the rest stay on the vine. 

xo
laura

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Laura Lowery is the founder, editor and publisher of Lucia. She does her best to lead a creative life. Whether triumphant or stumbling, Laura shares daily notes (that are often weekly) here on luciajournal, including stories, behind-the-scenes happenings, little doses of inspiration, and large quantities of curiosity and heart. She is pleased to meet you.