Collection / Attention
It is important, I think, to take stock of time, and one's use (or non-use) of it. Whatever we make of it, time passes (one way or another; that’s the beauty of it). It occurred to me a while ago, somewhere in the middle of one week after another after another, that I have been doing something very interesting (to me) and important (for me) with this time, week after week. To understand it better, I had to call it something; to put a name to it, if only to make sense of it, for myself. To see the act for what it was and is - and to foster it. I don't mind being aimless sometimes; other times, it is good to take stock.
I have written elsewhere about how I see the world, and how that seeing moves my hand, the labour involved in crafting a sentence. I believe in the power of hands, and the power of the poetic eye. The eye and the hand are connected (this is not something new; I am not saying anything new here). I understand and value these things; they are tools for making. By the grace of my poetic eye, I think I have been (I am), in this time, collecting things. To collect things, to be in the act of collecting these things, is, I think, a creative act (a making, in time).
When this time began, I started from a corner. I explored the space I was in, in time (week after week after week, for a total of nine photos, over the span three weeks – this is the time it took to collect, to complete the first collection); from there, I found a way to cultivate a rhythm. There is a rhythm in this, in collecting, for me - and it is a way to mark the weeks, as they pass by. To collect them, these weeks, in passing. In passing, it is also true that by taking stock, I am making record, a record of all the ways I am looking at the world. It is an exercise in seeing – of stopping, for a moment, in the moment, to take a closer look. I know this because I am (also) stopping, for a moment, to take a closer look at words.
Take the word collect. When I began to think about what I was doing, I thought it was important to look up the word, to see it for what it was. Among its meanings, to collect is to:
I had been, am doing, all these things. What interested me most, though, as I spent time looking at the word, and its meanings, was in looking at the word in Greek – to find a meaning that resonated for me, in my mother tongue, for what it was I was and am doing. I did not know, when I used the word collect, to describe what I was doing, that I was also giving myself a gift. When I looked up the word in Greek, I found the word προσευχή – which is the Greek word for prayer. My mind did not miss a beat; I made a connection – because the Greek word for prayer is one vowel sound off the Greek word for attention. And, I see now, I have been paying attention.
To collect is to stop and take stock of time; it is a creative act, a zeroing in. To collect is to pay attention; it is to bring the eye and hand together, to pray.
I have written elsewhere about how I see the world, and how that seeing moves my hand, the labour involved in crafting a sentence. I believe in the power of hands, and the power of the poetic eye. The eye and the hand are connected (this is not something new; I am not saying anything new here). I understand and value these things; they are tools for making. By the grace of my poetic eye, I think I have been (I am), in this time, collecting things. To collect things, to be in the act of collecting these things, is, I think, a creative act (a making, in time).
When this time began, I started from a corner. I explored the space I was in, in time (week after week after week, for a total of nine photos, over the span three weeks – this is the time it took to collect, to complete the first collection); from there, I found a way to cultivate a rhythm. There is a rhythm in this, in collecting, for me - and it is a way to mark the weeks, as they pass by. To collect them, these weeks, in passing. In passing, it is also true that by taking stock, I am making record, a record of all the ways I am looking at the world. It is an exercise in seeing – of stopping, for a moment, in the moment, to take a closer look. I know this because I am (also) stopping, for a moment, to take a closer look at words.
Take the word collect. When I began to think about what I was doing, I thought it was important to look up the word, to see it for what it was. Among its meanings, to collect is to:
- bring or gather together (a number of things)
- accumulate over a period of time
- concentrate (one's thoughts)
I had been, am doing, all these things. What interested me most, though, as I spent time looking at the word, and its meanings, was in looking at the word in Greek – to find a meaning that resonated for me, in my mother tongue, for what it was I was and am doing. I did not know, when I used the word collect, to describe what I was doing, that I was also giving myself a gift. When I looked up the word in Greek, I found the word προσευχή – which is the Greek word for prayer. My mind did not miss a beat; I made a connection – because the Greek word for prayer is one vowel sound off the Greek word for attention. And, I see now, I have been paying attention.
To collect is to stop and take stock of time; it is a creative act, a zeroing in. To collect is to pay attention; it is to bring the eye and hand together, to pray.
FISH/VASE | SHADOW/LIGHT
SHADOW - LIGHT - MOVEMENT
A FAVOURITE TREE
