OF STILLNESS & LIGHT.PDF-Final draft

OF STILLNESS & LIGHT.PDF-Final draft

OF STILLNESS & LIGHT PHOTOGRAPHS, MYSTERY, & AWAKENING THE SPIRIT

STEVE SOLINSKY

OF STILLNESS & LIGHT

PHOTOGRAPHS, MYSTERY, & THE AWAKENING OF SPIRIT

To the memory of my father, my mother, and my brother, Tom.

Beach Meditation Every now and then I come upon a subject whose clarity and balance cut right through the mind’s thought train to return me back into a refuge of stillness. My nickname for this image is “Zen Rock” as the foreground puddle appears to be a rip in the beach fabric revealing its underlying emptiness. This image along with some of the others may act as lightning rods back into essence.

Images are not things, but Awareness made visible,Life on the cusp of noticing herself. Images can be seen as just the matter in things, or on the other hand, they can be seen as spirit’s unbound delight in seeing herself through Gaia’s mirror. It’s all just a matter of view. I’ve chosen to present these images floating above the tan background of the page. This is to diverge from the usual practice in printed media where photos are placed on the blank white page as a means to illustrate our concrete world.. But an image, if freed from such constraint, may carry the dynamic of the viewers’ own life force, reflecting the joy of what it is to be awake and alive. If the tan background of these pages represents the physical embodied world we inhabit, then the image floats upon its own plane of stillness, above all conceptual association, not presented as cold evidence, but as the uplifting glory of spirit given flight.

Beach Meditation, Cannon Beach, Oregon

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As an artist and photographer my passion becomes clear. Images are less matter, than mirror. I’m not here to document the common world we all can see, but here to do my alchemy, mixing matter with metaphor, substance with spirit until my heart soul sings, and, with grace, may you hear it. -Steve Solinsky, April, 2020

Deadwood Light, Sayulita, Mexico

Self portrait in a window, Havana 2002

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OF STILLNESS & LIGHT

PHOTOGRAPHS, MYSTERY, & THE AWAKENING OF SPIRIT

STEVE SOLINSKY

Fort Kronkhite Bunker, Marin coast, CA

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Content

INTRODUCTORY ESSAYS

NOWHERE IN PARTICULAR

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Artist’s Statement

Art, Heart, & Wisdom Art: Voyage of Wonder Reflecting upon Mystery

THE LYRICAL SPELL OF COLOR

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KINGDOMS OF COLOR

Photography: Creative Path to an Open Heart

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Mexico

Italy

WEAVING TWO WORLDS

Hawaii

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The Weaver & the Woven (poem by author) All I Need to know (The Compost Heap of Wisdom) (poem by author)

British Isles

Asia

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In Permanence, or in Life?

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ICONS OF THE DIVINE

Breaking the Spell of Expectation

Photography as Path to Authentic Ground

IN GRATITUDE FOR IT ALL

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Origins: Of Spirit, and the Ancestors & all other Beings

CREATIVE ACTS & WAKING UP Karma: Welcome to the Garden Photography as Symbol or Myth Of Gratitude, Reverence, & Devotion Creation: An original or Copy? The Most of It (Robt Frost poem) The Art of the Catch (poem by author)

In celebration of the Wild

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Acknowledgements

SHARING THE BLESSINGS

Gifts are to be Shared: A Ritual to Read to Each Other (Wm Stafford poem)

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Buoyed in a Sea called Love

Imagination as Mask

Riding the Wave

Imagination & Matter as Collaboration Cleansing the Doors of Perception Waiting for Turtles (poem by author) The Challenge to see beyond the Subjective Resilience in the Storm (poem by author)

Stepping into the Stream Awakening Spirit with Heart

Awakening the Soul A Turn of the Wheeel

The Bodhisattva’s final walk home

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LIVING AT THE CENTER

PLATES (See link to online version- last page)

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THE INITIATIONS

Foxtails & Ladybugs, Idaho

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The Initiation into the Spirit The Initiation into the Moment

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Book Afterthoughts (See link to online version- last page)

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Of Effort & Release Of Invitation & Risk

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INTRODUCTION:

Sometimes we may head down roads to ‘we know not where’, but it turns out they’re the only ones to ever bring us home.

Artist’s Statement

P HOTOGRAPHY AND BUDDHISM have been my two primary life teachers. Curiously, these two paths often seem to loop and overlap one another. They are like twin trails crossing below mist-shrouded peaks, allowing an excellent view of each other but also the summit. And now after many trips traversing them individually, I realize, “Oh, this has actually been the one great peak I’ve been climbing all along”. I’ve been a servant of this summit of mystery for years and a devoted subject of its power. I’ve peered through its veiled mists and felt its weight. It’s enchanted me through my work with imagery and in meditations deep in settled stillness. The gift I receive through photography is an organic opening of vision which instills vitality and passion in my creative life. It brings clarity in recognizing how my perception of the world is highly conditioned through collective views and assorted rigid imprints of my mind. Having been born and bred into a materialist or conditional view, I was mostly ignorant of the roll spirit plays in my life. This explains the confusion I had in seeking clarity in things outside (both objects and ideas) for what truthfully comes in the flow from within. Years ago when I took up photography, I tended to ignore the subtlety of my instinctive feeling response to my subjects and instead to favor more familiar or default views or ideas which now I understand greatly limit what I’m actually able to feel and see. It is no wonder why the Buddha put Wise View as number one in the Eightfold Path of awakening: as the basecamp in approaching the peak (or is it peek?) of realization. Wise view is simply seeing clearly what is there, without any mental bias or confusion. As photographer I hold great reverence for this enchanting power of imagery to speak so poignantly to my heart though remain so inscrutable to my questioning mind. Her spell brings an integrating ease like an orphan from exile’s sweet return home. These tugs of mystery are hints I’m connected to something not only incomprehensible but something grand. It is a luminous enigma and to it I bow.

My path in photography is not only a material pursuit but an inspired explo- ration of the sacred. It provides me a graphic metaphor for spiritual awakening and uniquely reframes my spiritual practice. Even with Buddhist teachings, which emphasize a discipline of “do the practice and then see for yourself ”, I feel a strong impulse to conceptualize, which is a subtle slide into a spirit-denying, materialist view. The emphasis in my photography is on clarifying percep- tion and to find meaning through my creative work. It eases the distortion of thought and uplifts life by inviting spirit through the discipline of a conscious view. In this book I share both my inspiration in what I see reflected from the world as mystery and beauty, and my own insights revealed by the process. Photography as Helpful Metaphor Photography has sparked many insights that have been revelatory, providing a unique perspective on the nature of awakening, both for me as artist and as spiritual seeker. As views, they weave themselves into a calm equanimity and relief in the understanding the flow of the world is unknowable and mysterious, and not something to be feared, but in fact may bring the water of new life, and simply reflects back to me what is my deepest heartfelt intention.

When it’s reduced, what it all comes to is: Finding refuge in unity, which flows through my love: of the work I do, and in my compassion for all others.

Mythic Light, Tuscany

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INTRODUCTION:

Art, Heart & Wisdom

I MAGES MAY BE MORE than the concrete representations we com- monly see. They become art when they offer an expanded, or awak- ened way to view our world. When they evoke mystery or awe, they sing and invite further personal investigation, speaking more to the heart than the mind. What is so compelling from certain images is their power to intrigue. I sense a movement of some kind within me but have difficulty categorizing it be- yond sensing its subtle moving energy. It’s safest to label it as “mystery” and know it’s just presently greater than I can know or comprehend. Something is nourishing from this exchange and having no greater understanding, I intuitively assign this force to life and gladly bathe in its wonder. The spiritual teachings, from the Buddha and other sages, can be reduced to a simple statement attributed to the Dalai Lama, when asked what Buddhism is really about. He said, “Loving Compassion. This is my simple religion. There is no need for temples, no need for complicated philosophy”.

These essays are derived from personal flashes of insight that engage my passion for imagery and also echo my Buddhist practice. I’m just an inspired disciple in following my own wonder. What arises as wisdom and freedom, it appears, may be accessible to anyone through directly engaging the heart. It applies especially at this time when many consider we’ve entered the age of Maitreya, the next yet-to-appear Buddha, who is to come not in a physical form, but within each of us as our individual Buddha nature. I’ve come to see the real purpose of a daily mindfulness practice is to ultimately connect with the heart, liberating myself from the disturbing storm of confusion caused by over-thinking to which I’m so prone. Through dedicated practice, once the chaotic mind is put at ease, the heart naturally opens, providing wise guidance. A simple discipline like photography engages heartfelt passion directly through natural wonder of the world and allows for the life affirming flow of spirit. Subtle or unconscious judgments of mind muddy the pure stream of this organic loving unity of being. By cultivating stillness and dropping all mental attachments, the turbulence soon subsides with everything coming to rest into clarity again. Images can speak directly to and empower my heart when the mind is so serene.

It is so true in the birth of art. All that’s needed is inspired through my love.

Floral Visqueen The heart and its intelligence become veiled by a film of mind, perhaps as a mis- guided strategy for my own security, but unfortunately wisdom and vitality in life is the cost. The tragedy for many of us (like my father) is we may not come to realize this until the very end. The great spiritual masters have pointed the way to lifting the veil if only we can allow space for life’s inherent creative spirit.

Floral Visqueen, Oregon Coast

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INTRODUCTION:

Art- Voyage of Wonder

“ Philosophy begins in wonder.” – Plato

F ROM THE START, as photographer I’ve been guided intuitively to my subjects. I’ve been drawn through no particular pretense or interest in their material identity, but an interior calling – a sometimes compel- ling fascination within. My mind focuses upon rising and embodied wonder, and soon stills. Everything becomes numinous and vividly sharp. Freed from limitations of the discursive mind, the veil of category falls away and I feel my subjects in their luminous presence, uniquely fresh and alive. Having put sub- ject distinctions aside and focusing more on my curiosity in the light, the sub- ject matter naturally tends to become quite diverse. In opening to that elusive element of mystery, it is always with my wonder and fascination as witness. This is the magic ground, a free expansive view tuned to naked perception; it is pure form and light stripped clean of all association or judgment. I find I can actually see with new eyes in this still and revealing light! Perceived so bare, life force breaks through the veil of our world to enliven my heart. This book is a visual poem to celebrate the source of that field of wonder. Reasoning can only take us so far –to the boundaries of life’s great mystery. To proceed beyond requires altering of consciousness or view. Yet, the land beyond, a world of ineffable greatness lies so close. Images have the power to carry us to this other divine shore, and to the life behind things.

This process I’ve intuitively learned by following my own sense of wonderment, or intrigue is that it leads to what is truly enduring in life, which with patience arises in the flow of experience. Confidence builds when confirmation comes to me from outside to support this truth. Such is the case of my recently learning of the ancient Chinese practice of huatou , or the active cultivation of wonderment. The gist in this practice is to never rely on any intellectual understanding, wit, reason, logic, or even any Buddhist teaching. Everything must be put down. The key here is simply to bring forth the sense of not knowing to the critical phase until the sense of wonderment becomes so great that it shatters into awakening. Wonderment and not knowing are essentially devotional or reverential and the product of love.

The Wonder in SEEING this World The trick to truly see this world Is of a wondrous kind. Trusting more in body than in mind, Dump all the beliefs and the Knowns But hold close the rags and the bones. Come celebrate the hidden graces And light the dark of dead certain places. Come board the ship of wonder,

life’s uplifting ark! - Steve Solinsky, April 2020

Longtail Bow, Gulf of Thailand

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INTRODUCTION:

Reflecting Upon Mystery T HE MOST COMPELLING IMAGES I find are the ones whose allure remains a mystery. It’s usually not due to their material identity but more to the extraordinary conditions at play – light, movement, forms, color. One repeated element of fascination is reflection: the dance of light. I might dismiss what I see as an interesting tilework, but it’s really not the tile, it’s the magic of light. I see there’s no difference from my own physical being, as the ultimate source of light and organic life are not separate: it’s all a dance of some underlying universal energy, or force, which casts its mystique on everything I perceive. I could suggest it stands even behind my curiosity and perception itself. The mystery of reflecting light is a metaphor for life. Light is in unity with everything it touches, which is imbued with her spark. In the same way I see spirit reflected in the substance and form of it all. Often, witnessing such display, the weight of my self dissolves a little in the brilliance and what’s left by degree is gratefully unburdened.

To Walk on Light Sometimes the light, like from this Burmese temple, is so outrageous in its layered brilliance, you can’t look away. Most of the subjects of my images are mere foils for my real interest, which is this mysterious element animating it all.

To Walk on Light, Schwedagon pagoda, Burma

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Reflecting Upon Mystery (cont.) I may find myself somewhere which seems unlikely to yield anything of photo- graphic interest. And then everything changes, a gardener hoses off a canopied tennis court, and suddenly angels sing. If I pay attention to the light, there’s a good chance I’ll stumble onto something striking I would never even imagine.

can transform an otherwise ho-hum view into one imbued with life, filling it with uplifting reflected light, a metaphor for spirit’s effect upon life.

Visits to Big Sur are always a joy, given the rugged beauty of this rough sec- tion of the California coastline. This particular day seemed not so promising due to the unfortunate rain. However, a slick veneer of the wet

In the case of reflections, a clay surface tennis court may be transformed into something else entirely. Then it’s just looking for the harmony in the color, form, the light, and any symbolic element that may emerge.

Nepenthe Umbrellas, CA coast

Reflections on a Tennis Court, La Quinta, CA

INTRODUCTION III

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INTRODUCTION

Photography: Creative Path to an Open Heart

P HOTOGRAPHY IS ABOUT CHOICE. Which view-point? Which moment? Which subject? These are all considerations in choosing to perceive the world; however, there is an important factor of embodi- ment I see which colors it all – the interplay of awakened feeling which engaging the world sometimes may stir within. I believe this is the fountain flow of my art, and of all creative forms. The elicited joy. The mystery. The expansive awe. And, sometimes, even the unsettling dark. When art elicits my feeling it’s a catalyst to stimulate me into deeper inves- tigation into what underlies this enchanting call- this is the creative path. I’m no longer travelling in the neighborhood of familiar terrain. It’s all foreign and new. This way is uncertain, but if the process is allowed to unfold it brings great reward: meaning and joy in my life. This is as true in my art and for everyday projects as it is for spiritual connection. If this points to anything, then it points to my own true identity in the goodness that connects all forms, to LOVE as empowering creative expression, inspiring me beyond boundaries, to release into the promise of freedom. Art is a celebration of the receptive mind and liberated heart. This book is a testament to that freedom and to what stirs in its depths. The images here are just pointers from this world, caught in passing, but link me to something essential in my life, something I think we all on occasion sense buried inside. Maybe it needs no definition, and no name, though sometimes I’ve used the word “Spirit” or “Source”, but as an artist, whatever its name, I know it as the spark that enriches and brings value into my life. And intuiting the same need in others, I share this work with the world. While an absorption in any artistic practice is probably a good channel in con- necting spirit with life, photography may be especially profound in linking the substance of the world with the soul. And that is because as artists with a cam- era we’re faced with the familiar world to which we’ve been well conditioned but hope to reframe in some meaningful direct way, and to touch the divine within.

Photography as a creative practice places one at the intersection of heart (the joy of perception) and mind (the fabricated world based upon limited preconditioning and past experience). When joy blossoms, a balance between heart and mind has resolved. It’s a dual wonder to witness what appears outside but also find resonance within. As my practice has deepened, the distinction between these two has narrowed, and sometimes eases into a peaceful calm of equanimity and joy. Obviously, this all doesn’t arise from just picking up a camera, but from great intention, devotion and training, and a keen attention to my own inner process. By having the intension, and the perseverance to invite spirit into life, a shift for me has occurred as the world not only presents illusion, but inspires curiosity, joy, insight, and wonder, which has ignited in the heart a deep and abiding love for myself, and for all life.

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Through Wild Garlic, Lynmouth, England

WEAVING TWO WORLDS T HE GIFT I HAVE RECEIVED through photography liberates my creative life, but it also teaches me there are two distinct worlds: the one I think is there (like from reading a history book), and one of my actual unfolding bare perception. One is predictably secure, and the other is constantly evolving. One is familiar and unremarkable, and the other, a source of wonder and mystery. One is based in materiality, and the other a pure gift through flowing spirit which nourishes life and enlivens the soul. It has become clear to me that I’m the bridge between these two and to deny one or the other is to deny my full conscious human power to create wholeness, which I see as my universal purpose. These two realms can be simply expressed as mind and heart, matter and soul, Logos and Eros, word and image, or Form and Emptiness. It is my purpose to celebrate the underlying harmony and unity between the two, and to share it with others.

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The Weaver and the Woven (On the Warp and Weft of Awakening)

I am a weaver. I work my lonely loom- this body/mind on loan for life, burdened with common view, spun and strung by men In mental warps of mind, these fiber thoughts in thread conditioned, tense, and taut, pulled tight with certainty and determination,

Now, I choose to bind this vibrant hem, stringing fabric line of heart with mind in just the right proportion, in wide spiral arcs of weaving in, and weaving out, binding into ONE both Earth and Heaven. And with my every thought and act the weft is woven wider. ‘Til emptiness and form are bound, I choose my palette wisely – threads of beauty, compassion and light, (being careful not to pull too tight.) If this weaving’s woven loose and lean, so Source has space to intervene through cracks where light slips in, then pain and strife may see release, and my Soul at last can find her peace. I am a weaver, and with grace - the Woven. - Steve Solinsky June 2010

await the harmonizing weft, from spools of my imagination.

Are we just of dust, or are we made of something greater? And might this spirit-path be the way of my true nature? This precious thread, left unseen through eyes of my knowing?

Tapestry Images sometimes are just a weaving of matter and light like this scene from a sidewalk in Palm Springs.

Tapestry, window reflection from Palm Springs

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All I Need to know (The Compost Heap of Wisdom)

In zazen, leave your front door and your back door open. Let thoughts come and go. Just don’t serve them tea.” - Shunryu Suzuki

My spiritual practice is a life education in What to do, and What Not to do. The Buddha after offering his Eightfold Path, cautioned his students about following any conceptual doctrine, but to allow one’s presence and experience to guide. The compost pile poem below is Nature working her magic to mix random rejects into vibrant life, and all without our judgment or mentation. It is nature’s formless organic wisdom, but often I have to remind myself, that I am nature, too.

Now our world’s in confusion and friends disagree. Families fall to discord, and countries do battle, with so much strife, truth’s hard to see. Calls come for action, to march, or make a stand, But does it bring us together? And impacts - do we understand? Perhaps I’m not ready, ‘til mind and heart are clear to move into action or find proper faction to cheer. Time to calm this mental storm and return to the core. To release all I clutch, and of all I may be sure, and leave myself empty, but open to receive, clearing space for waking wisdom, and my wholeness to retrieve. II Time for composting my perception, to enrich the soul. From an old artist, here’s the trick: Discard preconceptions … but welcome the perceptions…every last visitor to the door. Build faith through welcoming all. For life, and culture mold our lot as stingy host,

Look to Nature’s moldering charm, composting the random, moist genius without goal. Are we to credit microbes in crafting this life-sown art? Who’s the Chef in Alchemy’s Kitchen, mixing form with my soul, yet, in silence, working away in the dark? She sings a sweet song in my chest, a transformative tune, binding rays of the sunlight and the glow of the moon. Some call this force Nature; I call her The Light!

Face still unseen, she empowers my life. Offering wisdom, in blessings she moves, Seeding my wholeness, as joy in life proves.

Using no blueprint, with no outcomes in mind, each perception rising, she enriches the flow. Bringing bounties of grace, she braids beauty to life, and for us - the gift of knowing … what we need to know. And for me, the gift of knowing

rejecting all that’s foreign, and more, through preference, and judgment, to leave us dull, disillusioned, and poor.

All I need to know. -Steve Solinsky Aug 2016

Stone Basin Fixation, Golden Gate Park, SF

WEAVING TWO WORLDS

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I ’M ATTRACTED LIKE MANY OTHERS to nature as a subject of in- terest. One of nature’s attractions for me, aside from the solace I feel in her serenity, is her diversity in form and capacity to surprise. I might think I know her bag of tricks but often I underestimate her dynamic power to hum- ble me in awe. I set out to explore the autumn color in my hometown of Nevada City. In ap- proaching the natural world as a subject, you never know for sure what you’ll find. You may have an idea like I did in this case, but life is a moving target so I’m never sure what may arise. I knew I’d see the trees flaming in yellow and orange, which is the draw that brings many visitors seasonally to this town. Strangers are a common sight toting their cameras and tripods to capture this cyclic fury, where life through image somehow may be magically prolonged. As an artist at home in this scene, though, I’m not so drawn to this seasonal display just to capture color for intensity’s sake. I hope to discover subtler mysteries to behold. As I walked the leaf strewn streets lined in a flutter of color, a shiny gleam from the side caught my eye. Nosing out of a nearby garage glowed a real object of intrigue, maybe just the right odd mix of contrasts I hoped for. An old Ford sedan, the glory of a half century past, offered its brow as an immutable coun- terpoint to nature’s unfolding and brief dance. Here was a subject to engage on many levels. Aside from the fascinating play of light, color, and texture of leaf and steel, there is the story of time and how it’s measured. The car rings a chime of nostalgia, for treasured years past. Rigid and slightly tarnished, it belies its own inevitable autumn cycle. While unconscious to me in the moment, this image holds the balance of what it is to be human: I try to maintain an identity like the car’s sturdy shell which appears will endure, but nostalgically we’re reminded has its own timeline, though perhaps on a grander than human scale; and lining its lap is a trail of autumn leaves, nature’s notice that nothing is exempt from this, life’s cyclic, timeless and fleeting road show. In Permanence, or in Life?

There may be a sense of loss as season’s change, but in holding both, the yearning for what might remain, and the promise of what comes, arises an unexpected kind of beauty.

Impermanence is a principle of harmony. When we don’t struggle against it, we are in harmony with reality. - Pema Chodrin

Ford Hood I was drawn out to explore my hometown in autumn. Located as we are in the foothills, fall is always a welcome spectacle. The allure for photographers of fall leaves in a vibrant display of color cannot be ignored. For me to make photographs, though, it becomes a mixed blessing. This brilliant display of nature’s color is like a loud siren call. Shifting from the norm, it’s a jolt from life that awakens sleeping senses. Everyone notices and if there’s a camera nearby, photos are made. But how many pictures of fall leaves do I need to see before I become numb? This was the state of mind I fell into as I explored the leaf strewn streets of my town. For hours I wandered until I happened upon this proud classic vehicle. Here, through a sprinkling , the leaves took only an elegant supporting role, honoring in nostalgia the spectacle of time.

Ford Hood, Nevada City, CA

WEAVING TWO WORLDS

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Breaking the Spell of Expectation

A WAKENING TO PHOTOGRAPHY’S full inspiring potential has been for me a metaphor for waking up to the fullness of my life. The subtle challenge in learning how to truly see taught me graphically about the origins of the mind’s delusion and perceptive distortions. It taught me to pay closer attention to embodied wisdom than anything coming from my dualistic mind. This means focusing on immediate perception, the feelings, and allowing the conceptual haze of thought to subside. Out of this, I invari- ably come into a vivid stillness that unveils mystery and then wonder. I made one image that illustrates this idea of how expectation can be a blinder to what nature has extraordinarily produced for our delight. The image was made at Cannon Beach, Oregon, a seaside town noted for its picturesque and gently sloping beaches. With view camera in hand I ventured out late onto the beach on this overcast day and noticed three people down the way setting their 35mm to tripod in expectation for what they thought would be a glorious sunset. They relaxed and waited, beer bottle on the sand.

My interest, though, was the extraordinary 360 degree light which presently enveloped us all. The wet sand had become a mirror reflecting the glowing overcast sky subtly colored by the fading sun. We floated in a delicate sea of lu- minosity. It was an awe-inspiring condition I hadn’t anticipated, and just rested in the buoyancy of the light holding us all. But the party down the beach was unmoved, distracted with their own waiting agenda. I continued exposing images for a while until the light finally faded completely, and the party had retreated from the beach, with the no-show sunset now, I imagine just a disappointment in mind.

Waiting for the Light, Cannon Beach, OR

WEAVING TWO WORLDS

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Photography as Path to Authentic Ground

P HOTOGRAPHY HAS BEEN a near lifelong teacher for me. Many of my images are like old friends. And many of them I’m still pleased to see regularly, so they hang on my studio walls as inspiration and re- minder of what it is that really nourishes me. There are many more images absent, or I rarely see, like old friends who’ve drifted apart. The primary difference between the revered and the forgotten is the presence or not of a vibrant living exchange. Images have the spell-binding capacity to be endowed with life or mystery. This happens when as an artist, I’m able to stand in my own life and experience and invite imagination to play in the world. Of course, this can happen only when visions, like other-worldly guests, are welcomed and received in curious delight. The benefits they bring are numerous and have built confidence for me in this trusted open channel for authentic exchange with spirit. It’s become the fountain of a host of creative gifts: joy, wonder, awe, patience, equanimity, simplicity, ease, gratitude, and along with these, a great reverence for all life. Sustaining and crowning it all, has come a deep abiding faith in my own noble self-authority. Neither I, nor anybody else may force themselves to be authentic. What is authentic lets me know when it springs from my bones. So, this is how it goes with some images which resonate with life and beckon to my conditioned mind that “you are so much more”.

When my attention moves “out of mind” and into heartfelt awe, any sense of self thins and for a moment I am free. I’ve spent much time in this “out of my mind” state, either deep in meditation, or when absorbed in the beauty and wonder I find in my lens (Thank you, World!). I look at it this way: When I slip out of mind, I’ve alluded capture into illusion and find myself again in my own natural unity and living authority, here to see through clear eyes, almost as nature seeing herself. What is truly authentic does not have its primary origins in anything I know or carry in mind. It arrives out of nowhere as a wondrous gift to the receptive mind and heart, as an unexpected hatch of new life.

A Basket of Blessings I was part of a photography tour in Cambodia, and this day we visited the ruins of Ankor Wat. I had separated myself from the rest of the group and was headed into the bowels of one of the temples through a dark passageway when I came into a roofless chamber and into the presence of a most unforgettable being... She exuded an air of complete calm and happiness, and looked up to my most alien presence with a disarming smile. We had no language in common - other than the most human one of gesture and countenance. She was obviously here to greet me, and I am glad to be so blessed. Afterward I gathered the story from others who had engaged her that she had been a nun associated with this temple complex many years before, and was acting as a greeter, or ambassador to visitors of this jungle temple world. It was simply my good fortune to have encountered her, and recorded her radiant being in this setting of stone and light. Her bright spirit left as big an impression on my being that day as her image in my camera.

WEAVING TWO WORLDS

A Basket of Blessings, Ankor Thom, Cambodia

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CREATIVE ACTS & WAKING UP A S THE YEARS OF MY JOURNEY INTO ART & SPIRIT roll by, my view on their relationship and importance becomes more simplified. It is obvious to me now that the key to my happiness is an active creative life. This is not to say I must be an artist or make beautiful things to be creative. Everything we do, or think, can be creative as long as it is from our own imagination and authentic response, and not borrowed or copied. Robert Frost’s poem, “The Most of It” beautifully points this out (page 42). His image pres- ents the sublime stillness of nature, which I interpret to be the source of all creativity, though it may not come literally from the mountains or woods, but from the human equivalent - from the calm and still of unbiased organic being. The view I take is that my own conscious awareness is provided by Universe as standard equipment which I may employ temporarily “on loan” as a collaboration with the All. What novelty comes out of universal mind is for the pure shared joy of creation. This joy has no weight of ownership or responsibility. Seen as such, and in building an ongoing sense of partnership with the Cosmos through my acts and thoughts, what develops for me is an enduring trust in the flow of events, which has spawned an increasing sense of ease in my life.

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Karma: Welcome to the Garden

I S IT POSSIBLE I live in a creative garden, yet not had a clue to what this in- volves? As an artist confronted daily with documenting the material world, I find myself caught in a spiritual paradox between my experience, and the cautions about indulging materiality. My actual experience, documented in this book, is of continually finding myself in absolute delight and awe from what I see in matter. In this case, might the perceived physical world conceal within itself the dual potential to appear either concretely banal, or as a divine gift? The evidence seems to suggest it’s entirely up to how I view things. Some clarity about this grows as I consider the often misinterpretted Buddhist concept of karma, which states simply that thoughts and acts are like seeds which will sprout and eventu- ally come to fruition when the time is right. Kind, compassionate intentions bring a harvest of harmony and beauty, but if they are self-serving or cause harm, they will bring only unhappiness, ugliness, or suffering. It calls for great care in one’s approach to the world. As part of its maintenance a garden needs devoted watering and continued weeding to remove whatever’s introduced that may challenge its vibrant growth. Karmic weeds are all the subtle unskilled, unexamined careless thoughts and acts lacking any reverence for spirit or heart : the gifts essential to well-being and happiness. Without wakeful attention they may eventually grow into the choking vines of a life-numbing mindset. Am I both a gardener and engineer, without knowing it? It appears to me the karmic seeds I have cultivated ripen into the experience of my concrete material reality. Metaphorically then, I could view myself as a cosmic gardener, sowing the seeds of waiting potential for what constellates as the manifest world. It’s essentially reality-engineering and should be of special interest to all artists whose inspiration is the physical world as perceived. But it turns out that world may not be so immutably fixed as I may have naively thought, but apparently is molded primarily by the quality of my gaze. If this sounds all too esoteric, consider that modern quantum physicists have come to a similar conclu- sion in their experiments with particle physics. The outlook of the observer was proved to concretely influence what they perceive as being solid and real. Might it be that one’s intent, as the Buddhists say, affects one’s world?

The cool dense granite is present and undeniable. The fragrance carried in the breeze pays it no attention, as if they are of separate minds.

“A physicist is just an atom’s way of looking at itself”.

- Niels Bohr, Nobel prize winning physicist

The Wind One Brilliant Day The wind, one brilliant day, called to my soul with an odor of jasmine. ‘In return for the odor of my jasmine, I’d like all the odor of your roses.’ ‘I have no roses; all the flowers in my garden are dead.’ ‘Well then, I’ll take the withered petals

and the yellow leaves and the waters of the fountain.’ The wind left. And I wept. And I said to myself: ‘What have you done with the garden that was entrusted to you?’

- Antonio Machado (translation by Robert Bly)

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Iris & Granite, Golden Gate Park, SF, CA

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Photography as Symbol or Myth

P HOTOGRAPHY HOLDS THE MYSTERY of our material/ spiritual balance. A symbol or myth is like an ordinary experience, but so rich and so vast in possible interpretation it is beyond simplification. In that respect, to the mind it’s almost alive . It is the same with images. What they may elicit is very personal and dependent upon view, reflected in the fa- miliar adage, “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder”. But my intuition tells me it’s much more mysterious than that, and more akin to: Beauty is an unconscious projection, in that the same enchanting harmony perceived outside is actually within the heart waiting to be claimed. And with that the distinction between inner and outer nicely dissolves. Now here is a beautiful and deeply felt thing. Lost in reflections and echoes I recognize that what I actually see and photograph is not the substance of the world, but a reflection on many levels- light bounced from whatever makes up the underlying matrix (some physicists suggest it’s nothing solid like we perceive, but mostly a flux of energy waves). From where does this energy and light come? Ultimately the Sun, our local radiant star and source of life. I, too, have the capacity to be a source of light, though the energy I emit is in a sometimes less visible spectrum of creativity, or insight, feeling, or love - entirely novel forms inspired out of wholeness but through my creativity reintroduced into the universal vibratory soup. It is through my creative work, I allow the animating force behind such inspiration the exquisite joy of dancing with her own reflection.

The process of liberation is in dissolving the separation between myself and world. The repeated message I hear in Buddhist dharma is for release and to re- lax, to just chill out and receive what is experienced whether it’s an idyllic green meadow or rush hour traffic. The mind, when still as water, reflects the world with brilliance to reveal its truth and beauty. Metaphor I use a lot of metaphors in this book, like the garden, the flow (ocean and stream) and even light, which is so central to my art. Metaphor, like myth is a useful tool for hold- ing in mind what cannot be held – the infinite, or formless potential. It’s the same as I learned in dream work, the value of image or story is not in the understanding , but just through engagement, like a healing balm which sooths my being. Occasionally, images or ideas may be like this, sometimes enigmatic and obscure, but beneficial and attractive in some mysterious way. My editor for this book asked if I might overuse metaphor. And maybe I do. But if there’s any gift I can offer others it’s in seeing the freedom metaphor offers me as an approach to experience, which to use the metaphor, is a flow. A metaphor is like a glove that allows me to hold what otherwise may be come quite sticky, but in this case, with- out any danger of getting stuck.

Study me as much as you like, You will never know me, For I differ in a hundred ways From what you see me to be.

Put yourself behind my eyes, and see me as I see myself, For I have chosen to dwell in a place you cannot see. -Divan-i Shams-i Tabrizi

Eric’s World, Oroville, CA

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... every feeling of true devotion harbored in the soul develops a power which may, sooner or later, lead further on the path of knowledge.…The student, unless he undertakes, by rigorous self-education, to create within himself this inner life of devotion … will encounter difficulties at the very first step”. -Rudolph Steiner, How is Knowledge of the Higher Worlds Attained? 1914

Of Gratitude, Reverence & Devotion

A LONG THE WAY on my spiritual journey I discovered the works of Rudolph Steiner and have found the living truth of his views at play within the unfolding experience of my daily life. He points to devotion as the critical element on the path of spiritual knowl- edge or awakening. In an indirect way it conforms well with the Buddhist view of “no-self ” which, when embodied, is experienced more through one’s joy in generosity and serving others rather than any conceptual self-identity. Ennobled from such goodness, and in service with the natural intelligence of the heart, discursive mind is reformed into a powerful, helpful, and creative tool of inves- tigation that yields insights and builds wisdom. The monkey mind finds its true purpose in serving the heart. In these essays I mention the importance of gratitude which arises naturally from devotion. The liberated heart feels blessings so sublime the great desire is to give them in return. And in so doing they expand… becoming the blessings that are both given and received . Here are some insights I’ve honored and find through reminding myself, bring great benefit: Live where you love: direct the attention there Focus upon no other ground. What I focus upon notices, turns and warmly says, “I’m attracted to you. I’m flattered that you’ve noticed me”. Anchor atten- tion in what nourishes, and not anyone else’s blame or despair. Don’t Believe every thought. Let go. My imagination is the screen I’ve been gifted for picturing this world. We’re in a marketplace of dizzying potential. Shop and compare but take nothing home. Celebrate the abundance, and then give it away. There is more here than can ever fill my pockets. Beauty cannot be possessed, only shared; I know this to be its unifying and rewarding power.

And as suggested in his poem, Yeats has confirmed for me a tremendous insight about the power of felt blessings, and their contagious nature in bringing a tide of goodness both to myself and the world:

“I sat, a solitary man, In a crowded London shop, An open book and empty cup On the marble table-top. While on the shop and street I gazed My body of a sudden blazed; And twenty minutes more or less It seemed, so great my happiness, That I was blessed and could bless”. -W.B. Yeats (from “Vacillation”

Spirit in the Light, Trinidad, CA

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Creation: An original or Copy? I was smitten with this Frost poem the first time I read it. It opens in still- ness and ends so powerfully in stillness, with the whole majesty of life and its creative challenge waiting between:

The Most of it

He thought he kept the universe alone; For all the voice in answer he could wake Was but the mocking echo of his own From some tree-hidden cliff across the lake. Some morning from the boulder-broken beach He would cry out on life, that what it wants Is not its own love back in copy speech, But counter-love, original response. And nothing ever came of what he cried Unless it was the embodiment that crashed In the cliff’s talus on the other side, And then in the far distant water splashed, But after a time allowed for it to swim, Instead of proving human when it neared And someone else additional to him, As a great buck it powerfully appeared, Pushing the crumpled water up ahead, And landed pouring like a waterfall, And stumbled through the rocks with horny tread, And forced the underbrush-- and that was all.

- Robert Frost

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Baboon Lakes Reflection, CA

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Creation: An original, or Copy? F ROST’S POEM IS A MASTERPIECE of the creative moment poetically captured. The creative process involves the artist moving from the conventional conditioned ground of his knowing into the weld of the imagination much like an encounter with the wilderness. He enters as separate and alone with only his own chattering mind as a companion. He cries out, sensing the gift of life requests some offering in return- not the usu- al token exchange, but an original and authentic response. I see this within the creative process, how the artist seeking inspiration of something grand and orig- inal will cry out in the hope some aspect of soul deep in his being will hear and respond in a flowering of genius. In this case what responds in the depths of the imagination is something not human, or domestic, but wild and great. It takes some time to fully appear to him as it progresses through the formative waters (like a process of birth). We plant the seeds through our emotional longing or prayers, and the imagination is primed. After a period of emergence, creation arrives in a birth shower of awe and grace, as embodied within . And like any brush with the ecstatic, in a moment it’s gone, and then we’re back again in the stone-hard everyday world of our lives.

A simple turn of mind Resting in the still grace of awe I ‘ve received gifts deep from the imagina- tion, love poems from life, blessings of transformative joy upon touching freedom’s edge. But most valuable has been the resulting deep abiding faith that can now bolster life - born in knowing such release into abundance is only a breath away, in a gentle expanse of heart and in a simple turn of mind.

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Sea Grass in tidal pool, Ucluelet, British Columbia

My journey into stillness deepened through meditation retreats. The following poem was inspired during one such ten-day retreat Susan and I attended in Ha- waii. It captures the stillness and tranquility of the place. My insight then was about the fleeting gift of clear perception - its majesty and brilliance, and, of course, its elusiveness, which I’ve endeavored to capture through photography, my soul-embracing craft. Those who are familiar know the fish I refer to is con- sidered one of the most beautiful in the sea. But, brought into the air and the light, soon looses its brilliance and fades into an inert dullness.

The Art of the Catch

A light breeze from the ocean caresses the palms, In an open breezeway, 20 souls peacefully perched on cushions and chairs, have faded into the luminous depths. A syncopated rift of harmonic chirps in a palm breaks the early morning stillness. A tropical feathered calliope plays. Deep in the depths, a swish of the tail, and I’m gliding through the cold languid dark, a flash of brilliance, from the corner of awareness, and I bite, take the hook. Then hauled to the surface and into light, I stoop, to pull this majestic catch to my craft. Life pulsing into light.

“It’s the jewel of the sea, a mahi mahi”, my boatman whispers. Out of the fathom deep, into the light and clutch of this world, now, bright from the sun, “It’s a pity, but Soon you’ ll see its iridescent glimmer fade and die”. We sit in the depths, with sharpened hooks, a line, waiting in grace, we look to haul this elusive brilliance into view.

-Steve Solinsky 2014

Lace, Leaves & Light, Hawaii (same retreat as the poem)

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Imagination as Mask T HE BUDDHA NEVER ASKED that his students believe what he taught. He knew that would not help them past suffering. Instead he encouraged them to follow the Eghtfold Path with diligence and they would come to see for themselves what he himself had discovered: Awakening through the experience. The surest way to know what the Buddha taught i s to become almost Buddha-like. Trying on Freedom for size It’s the same with buying shoes - you try them on first before you purchase. If they fit, you feel it, and know. Masks can afford the wearer a similar experience, where in the case of identity, imagination uses the mask to allow the wearer a “try it first” kind of test. As long as the imagination is free to play and not hin- dered by doubt, judgment, or discouraging thought, potential realities can be tried on for a while. This is the miraculous power of human imagination, to create realities and feel and know them from inside. A mask, whether physical or imagined, can be a helpful prop to spur the imagination.

I experimented with mask-donning when I decided to try the adoption of Bodhisattva * vows. A visiting teacher to our sangha invited us to give this some serious consideration. At first, I declined, thinking “I’m not a candidate worthy enough.” Eventually though, I decided to at least try it and started a regular daily practice of loving kindness prayers. While my mind may not have found the immediate value, my heart certainly did, and it wasn’t long before I felt a saint’s sweet flowing compassion. From the standpoint of freeing my limited self-identity, it was a game-changer. This openness to try things I’ve found to be key to growth. If it’s wrong I’ ll know it and can stop. But if it’s right, I’m at the evolutionary doorway to the soul. Experiences are like masks and should be worn like trying on shoes. If they fit, great. You’ve had a unifying experience. This is much the attitude I’ve taken in capturing the world through pointing my camera, to give my heart a chance to try on the view for size. The fidgety mind would reject many potentials without a second look just for being unfamiliar. But the heart knows the value in what it sees instantly. Click! In this play of life my heart shares this view, “There may be billions of masks in the world, but reject all conceit, in coming into presence there is only the ONE authentic actor.” * (in Mahayana Buddhism) a person who is able to reach nirvana but delays doing so out of compassion in order to save suffering beings.

We are all slaves to our own self image. - CG Jung

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House of the Spirits, Puerta Vallarta

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