6/30/16

Zoo Photographs

Zoo Photographs 




Introduction
On a beautiful, sunny afternoon in late May, 2016 my wife Gloria and I took a leisurely stroll, with our son and his wife and our grand daughter Claire, through the Seneca Park Zoo in Rochester, NY.   I had been looking forward to visiting the zoo after having been away for so many years.  This time I would be visiting as a grandfather.  I thought perhaps I could see the zoo "through the eyes" of our fifteen month old grandchild, perhaps seeing from this perspective might yield some interesting photographs.

It didn't take long, however, until I became uncomfortable with the ever-present bars, fences, glass windows and artificial "natural" looking walls.  Everything I was seeing was through obstacles, and the animals on display I was able to see appeared frustrated, anxious and exhibiting neurotic behavior.

After making a few photographs I noticed that my images were becoming increasingly cynical, ironical or satirical, so I paused before making any more photographs and thought about the challenges the zoo was presented me, not only as an artist but as a student of yoga.

I wanted to stay true to a commitment I had made to myself to devote my creative process in photography to making images that functioned, for me, as sacred art, that is to say images which unveiled the divine presence in all the things of the world.  Clearly, I needed to change my attitude about how I was seeing and feeling all that was around me.  I needed to "pry open" the bars surrounding me--and within my mind--by seeing more deeply, into a truer reality.  The great Sufi poet-saint, Rumi, wrote:

Great lions can find peace in a cage.
~ ~
So those bars I see that restrain your wings,
I guess you won't mind
if I pry them
open. 

The Yoga Masters and poet-saints are very clear in their writings and teachings: there's nothing that's not Shiva, everything is God; there are no forms, no places that are devoid of the divine presence.  I wanted to rise above my irony and cynicism and create photographs that functioned as symbols rather than cynical, critical commentary.  Symbols have the visual-transformative power--the grace--to open the heart and give "wings" to even the most restrained creatures, including myself.

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When I visited the zoo I was still in the process of finishing my project City of Souls, thus the words of Islamic scholar Seyyed H Nasr were still fresh in my mind.  I had quoted a passage from one of his books in which he wrote about the wings of birds: 


wings 
symbolize 
directly the archetypal  
reality of flight, and of ascension in opposition  
to all the debasing and downgrading forces of this world,  
leading finally to escape from the confinement of earthly limitation.


Steven Foster,  Zoo Photograph  Image #1   2016
click on image to enlarge

I subscribe to the idea that perception is essentially projection; that we see or discover in the world what's already exists inside our minds, our attitudes, our beliefs, and most importantly of all, our hearts.  Perhaps the cage that was bothering me was the one I was dwelling in.

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When I was a child I loved going to the zoo.  It provided me with an exciting change of environment, new experiences, lots of unusual and fascinating things to see and do.  Now, as a senior citizen, I found myself empathizing with the animals as they lived their restricted existences inside of cages.

Today my body is feeling more and more like a "cage."  I use to enjoy playing baseball all day on the vacant lots, and later tennis became my love, and running along the Milwaukee shores of Lake Michigan.  But my body aches everywhere now, particularly in my hips and legs, and especially in my right knee; sometimes it is painful for me even to walk, let alone run.  Instead of playing racket ball at the local gym, now I go there to peddle on stationary bikes.

The yogic sages teach that the body is a temple, the abode of God.  I have experienced that.  Indeed, I feel most free when I am doing the yogic practices, such as chanting, meditating, reading the words of the yogic scriptures.  Most recently, I have been enjoying reading sacred words of the poet-saints.  I consider my photography as a form of "meditation."  However, while visiting the zoo I had allowed myself to drop back into old patterns, old modes of thinking and being;  I needed to to get myself back to seeing, photographing from inside the profoundly expansive yogic perspective.   See my project Photography and Yoga.

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When I was a college student in the late 1960's I was fascinated by the zoo photographs of Gary Winorgrand.  He perceptively, playfully, inventively portrayed in his black and white images a visual spectacle being acted out between the zoo visitors and the animals in residence.  For Winogrand, both were "The Animals," the title of his collection of zoo photographs.  Both humans and animals were mirroring participants in a grand drama.  It was not just the animals who were on display in the zoo; the sense of physical and psychological confinement in Winogrands photographs was reflected in his strangely humorous and ironic photographs of the people interacting with the animals.  It seemed that both had little hope of escaping their shared captive existence.   


Gary Winogrand, from his book The Animals   1962-67


Some of my own recent zoo photographs remind me of Winogrand's pictures.  For example in the image below of the yellow bucket suspended in blue-green water, though the bucket is central to the image and dominates the photograph in a rather surprising, surreal and luminous way, one can't help but notice the headless male figure lurking and slowly emerging from the shadowy background.  The figure's body appears to be reacting to the yellow bucket which seems to be "squeeing" him up against a wall and a light toned shape which is just touching and conforming to the figure's right arm.     


Image #8


On the other hand, there is a lyrical quality about the image, in the way the light is dancing on the bucket and filtering down through the water.   There is also a gentle rocking, wave-like movement of the horizon line that separates the darker water below from the illuminated surface water above; and there's an interesting pictorial rhythm to the play of shapes under the water across the picture plane from the left edge to the right.  These elements come together in a surprisingly graceful, engaging,  and provocative way.  We are "over our head" in a blue-green and yellow world of water, plastic, and artificial  "natural" walls.  That is to say, the image asks many questions to which there seem to be no answers.  

The figure emerging from the background is a reflection of someone who was standing beside me in the underground-underwater viewing room while I was photographing.  But as pictured he looks confined;  indeed the figure's body language reminds me of the strange, three legged "box animal" in Winogrand's photograph above. 

What kind of animal is that, with a box as a torso?  What kind of animals are those in matching plaid coats?  And those elephants: are they copulating?  The shorter elephant is staring directly at the two plaided figures, perhaps wondering about what they are doing there.  ~  I hate to ask this, but what is that pile of stuff in the background, between the two plaided figures?  Is it elephant poop?  What ever it is appears to have been extruded from the nose of the plaided figure on the left. 

Questions: is my photograph of the yellow bucket with the figure in the background a humorous image, like many of Winogrand's zoo photographs?  Is it a commentary on the social/human condition?  Is it a mirror reflection of my own state of being at the time of exposure?  

The thing that has always attracted me to Winogrand's photographs, even back when I was a college student, is a feeling of surreality or mystery that belies his "social landscape" photographs.   Winogrand was a "street photographer," but also, I think, something of a mystic.  He walked the streets (and parks) of New York City, and the Brooklyn Zoo, and saw--and pictured--strange, wonderful, beautiful and laughable things.  Winogrand's work is at its very best when the images transcend the (social) subject matter he photographed.  His strange-funny images, which are often like fantastic tableaus which portray his characters as if on a Shakespearian stage, and like Shakespeare, Winogrand shows us that "things" are not what they appear to be.  His images point to the mystery that lies below or beyond the surfaces of the performances.  In other words, many of Winogrand's best images function for me as symbols.

There is something magically revelatory in both Winogrand's photograph and my own.  Each represents a suspended moment in which everything in the rectangle, everything in the drama, seems perfectly choreographed.  The moment--held, eternally in the formal relationships of the photographic image--seems pregnant with mystery, with palpable though unknown meaning.  It is this sense of timelessness and mystery, the presence of potential but unknown meaning, which announces to me to the transcendental, symbolic functioning of both images. There are hidden treasures within the images which invite me into an open-ended, silent dialogue with them.  These images want to be unveiled; they insist upon a more deeply considered, engaged heart-opening conversation.

It is clear to me that images which function as true visual symbols are a form of sacred art.  Symbols are empowered with grace, sacred energy which can transform its contemplator.  Symbols unveil the divine presence hidden within the things, spaces and places of the outer world;  and simultaneously, they unveil the divinity within the heart of the contemplator.


*

A Story: The Frustrated Sadhu
A sadhu was wondering all around a dark forest thick with the tangle of the limbs of the banyan tree.   He was seeking the darshan, the vision, of Shiva, the very Lord Himself.  The sadhu had been searching for Shiva everywhere, and for a very long time.  Because the sadhu could not find Him in any of the man-made temples of India, he decided to follow someone's suggestion that surely Shiva could be found in the primeval forest.

Indeed, Shiva was in the forest, and He was watching the sadhu looking everywhere for Him.  But each time the sadhu's eyes turned toward Shiva, Shiva would gracefully turn His back, revealing instead the splendor of the goddess Parvati--the "other face" of Shiva, His creative power.

The sadhu could not notice Parvati because he was so intent on seeing Shiva.  He saw the many created forms of Parvati that made up the forest--the delicate mosses, the white Jasmine, the knotted trees and tangled tree limbs, the creepers, and so on--but each time the sadhu looked for Shiva, the Lord turned round and presented yet another "vision" of Himself as the forest.  The sadhu was oblivious . . .  and finally left the forest, frustrated and disappointed once again.

This traditional yoga teaching story (see the version published in Darshan #135) of course plays upon the idea that Shiva is both visible and invisible, present and yet hidden from plain sight.  I am particularly fascinated by the way Shiva turns round and shows his other face, the face of Parvati--the infinite forms of the apparent world.  From an artist's perspective, this is a metaphor for the very nature of any creative process.  My best photographs will "turn" or transform apparent reality into an image which unveils the hidden treasure within--the overlooked divinity that exists inside all things.  In slightly differently terms, this "unveiling" is a process of "turning" appearances inside-out.  When an image accomplishes this surprising, mysterious transformative revelation within the contemplator, the image is functioning for the contemplator as a true, living symbol.  

The idea of Shiva's turning around implies movement in a circle, and this relates to an essential aspect of my symmetrical photographs.  Shiva's turning corresponds to the circular nature of my four-fold symmetrical "image constructions" which consist of four identical "source" photographs that mirror each other above&below, and left&right.  These four repeated, mirroring images are conjoined at the very center-point of the "circular" image.  Indeed, the center-point of the photograph represents the inner dimension, the "Imaginal world" from which the symbol originates. 

Usually the source image undergoes a surprisingly radical transformation when it is treated with the four-fold symmetrical process.  There is a fascinating tension in most of the symmetrical images between the more literal imagery of the source image and the abstract nature of the four-fold constructed symmetrical image.  When I contemplate a symmetrical photograph, I try to hold both images in my mind simultaneously and witness my experience between the two.  This process of contemplating the images, this "silent dialogue" with the image, has rewarded me with remarkable, unsayable insights.

I have included four symmetrical photographs in this project, all of which were constructed from source images made at the Seneca Park Zoo.  They are presented together below, following the "straight" zoo photographs.     


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I hear the voice
Of every creature and plant,
Every world and sun and galaxy--
Singing the Beloved's Name!
Hafiz
Sufi poet-saint


Prelude to the Zoo Photographs
I am presenting below an excerpt from a talk given by my meditation Master, Gurumayi Chidvilasananda.  She speaks of mirrors, reflections and turning in relation to the Siddha Yoga practice of chanting God's name.  Chanting is a form of praising God, and when one sings the names of God repeatedly, over and over again with heartfelt devotion, this practice can give one the darshan, the vision of the Lord, Shiva, the Beloved . . . "the One who resides in your heart."  Gurumayi says all the yogic practices transform our vision so that we can have the Lord's darhan, the vision of the Lord who is present within every thing, place, thought, feeling, action.  

Gurumayi's words will serve as a prelude to my zoo photographs.  As I have said before, I consider the making of photographs as a form of yogic practice, a means of having the darshan, the vision of Shiva.  The photographs which succeed at transforming appearances into images that function as symbols are, for me, a form of praising, a way of "singing God's name."

Gurumayi said:

When you turn a mirror toward a flame, it reflects the flame.  In the same way, when you turn your mind toward God, it reflects God.  One of the practices of Siddha Yoga is to chant the praises of the Lord.  Many times you cannot really experience the Lord in every action.  However, when you chant the praises of the Lord, you glimpse His greatness; you have the darshan [the vision] of the One who resides in your heart.  

In every thought, every feeling, every action, the Lord exists.  Na sivam vidyate kvacit, "There is nothing in this world that is not Shiva.  There is nowhere that the Lord does not exist."  The true devotee of the Lord sees everything as the Lord.  All his thoughts, all his feelings, all his actions are nothing but the Lord.  There is great sweetness, great rasa, in the practice of this awareness.  When you chant and meditate with this awareness, you recognize that your heart is the dwelling place of the Lord, and everything you do bears great fruit.   Gurumayi Chidvilasandanda, excerpts from a talk published in Darshan magazine #120



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The Zoo Photographs
  Click on the images to enlarge them



Zoo Photographs  Image #1   "Snowy Owl" 






Zoo Photographs  Image #2    "Stone Face"





Zoo Photographs  Image #3   "Wires and screw eyes in earth"





Zoo Photographs  Image #4   "Tree Limbs, Light Post and Lamp"






Zoo Photographs  Image #5   "Architectural Detail, Entrance facade to an Exhibition Building"






Zoo Photographs  Image #6   "Cornered Tree Trunk"






Zoo Photographs  Image #7   "Reflection in Zoo Pond"






Zoo Photographs  Image #7   "Underwater view of zoo pool"







Zoo Photographs  Image #8   "Yellow Bucket, headless reflected figure"







Zoo Photographs  Image #9   "Purple Ball with eye holes floating in zoo poll, underwater view"








Zoo Photographs  Image #9   "Split View of zoo pool :
looking out over the water's surface /
looking down at the dance of light on the pond's bottom surface 




Zoo Photographs  Image #10   "Boy looking at Blue Ball and Yellow Bucket floating in zoo pool"



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Symmetrical Photographs




Image #11     Symmetrical Zoo Photographs  





Image #12     Symmetrical Zoo Photographs





Image #13     Symmetrical Zoo Photographs






Image #14   Symmetrical Zoo Photographs
Click on the image to enlarge


Commentary on the Zoo photographs
For the most part I failed at photographing the animals in a way that praised their natural greatness and liberated them from their cages . . . and my own.  Only two of the images presented above include animals, and I think that's because my feelings about their captivity obstructed my ability to see them and their situation clearly . . . with right understanding.

 Image #1 

I do like the image of the Snowy Owl (#1), though there is clearly some irony in the juxtaposition of the "real bird" (in its fenced-enclosed space) with the image of the bird with its wings spread wide painted on the rock .

Image #14 

The symmetrical image (#14) of two wolves is, you may agree, rather startling when first clicking on it and seeing it enlarged on the screen.  When I took the source picture something aggressive seemed to be happening between the two animals.  Perhaps they were only playing?  Perhaps the one was being territorial, or "top doggish" with the other?  I don't know.  This image certainly succeeded in at least unleashing some of my own feelings of what I perceived to be their frustration.

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 Zoo Tiger Pacing In Its Cage

I fell in love with a tiger who was pacing back-and-forth within its fence-enclosed space.  It moved with restless, frustrated intensity against the fence, back-and-forth . . .   There was a second obstruction--a set of bars close to me--through which I was watching and admiring the tiger's natural grace and immense power.  The bars and the fences, and my identification with the tiger's captive discontent, distanced me not only physically but emotionally such that I could not make a satisfactory photograph of the tiger, that is to say, an image that celebrated and praised this majestic being, that unlocked the doors of our cages.  

You are an ocean in my chest,
where everyone changes places,
believer-unbeliever, cynic-lover, dervish-king.
Last night, you came to my sleep asking, "How are you?"
Locked out of life, waiting, weeping.
Rumi
Sufi poet-saint

*

I enjoyed photographing in one of the zoo's under water viewing rooms.  I loved seeing the light reflecting off the water's surfaces, and filtering down through the pool's blue-green colored depths.   


Image #10 

Two of the pool photographs, importantly, include the human figure.  The figures functioned as a point of identification for me while I was photographing; they provided me with a mirror-form which reflected my own projected interior feelings and thoughts.    

I have already written about image #8 in my Introduction.  Regarding the photograph #10 above, the image represents for me a startling moment of recognition in which I was confronted face-to-face with mystery, the unknown, the unfathomable.  It is the kind of "revelatory moment" that often comes to me spontaneously, as a gift of grace, in situations I can neither anticipate nor avoid.  

The image #10 has a most wonderful sense of the moment in which all the energies of the world, including my body and mind, seem to be radiantly shimmering together in silent, auspicious synchronicity.  I like the way the light radiates out of the boy's head and ripples onto the blue ball.  And strangely, the yellow bucket I photographed for image #8 reappears in the background of image #10, as if it is appended to the ball.  The bucket's recurrence links the two images (#8 and #10) and provides some kind of meaningful counterpoint to each other.  It seems to me some ineffable meaning exists in the imaginative space between the two images because of yellow bucket's presence in both.


Image #8

The two images seem to function for me as a kind of "self-portrait."  Though image #8 gives visual form to my own personal feelings of confinement in the zoo spaces, the image #10 seems to transcend that concern; it pictures "myself" surprised by the mystery and the light with which I am being presented, confronted.  The #10 image allows me to see something deeper in myself--and in the moment.  As such the image has an expansive, liberating affect on me. 

*

I hear the voice
Of every creature and plant,
Every world and sun and galaxy--
Singing the Beloved's Name!
Hafiz
Sufi poet-saint

Water is an archetypal symbol of the unconscious; it is the source of all life.  In A Dictionary of Symbols Cirlot writes:  "Limitless and immortal, the waters are the beginning and the end of all things on earth. . . . Immersion in water signifies a return to the pre-formal state, with a sense of death and annihilation on the one hand, but of rebirth and regeneration on the other . . . "  

Clearly, I found refuge, and release at the zoo in the water imagery.  The symmetrical photograph #11 presented below in the Postlude is for me a magical image of transformation and regeneration.  It amplifies the quality of radiant light that spontaneously manifested in image #10.  It is palpably alive with archetypal qualities, particularly the qualities of expansiveness and limitlessness.  It feels to me like an image of re-birth, or similarly, a re-turn to the origins of all life.  The image celebrates and "Sings the Beloved's Name," it opens my heart and releases me from the "cages" of my mind. 



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Postlude

The sky
Is a suspended blue ocean.
The stars are the fish
That swim.
The Planets are the white whales
I sometimes hitch a ride on,
And the sun and all light
Have forever fused themselves
Into my heart and upon
my skin.

Hafiz
Sufi poet-saint



Image #11



I slip in and out of the Sea at night with this
Amazed soul I have.
I am like a magnificent, magic ocean turtle
Who sets aside his vast wings of
Blue effulgence
When I crawl upon your shores
To leave my divine seed of verse.
Let me remain cryptic tonight
All the way till dawn
As I orbit God
In this holy, ecstatic mood.

Hafiz
Sufi poet-saint



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*      *

This project was published and posted 
on my Welcome Page, in the 
"Recently Added" section,
July 1, 2016

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Note: the Hafiz poems are "renderings" 
by Daniel Ladinsky from his book:
The Subject Tonight Is Love
~
The Rumi poems are "rendered" 
by Coleman Barks 
from his book 
Rumi : The Big Red Book 




Related Links & Projects:

Siddha Yoga Path


Welcome Page  to The Departing Landscape website which includes the complete hyperlinked listing of my online photography projects dating back to the 1960's, my resume, contact information, and more.

   

  



















6/1/16

City of Souls


~  City of Souls  ~

Symmetrical Photograph   "City of Souls"  


Introduction
Especially in the springtime I love watching the birds swooping into the River Birch tree behind our house.  After they perch themselves on the branches and become still for a moment . . .  they begin singing their songs to the universe.  The songs of birds open my heart.

In the spring I can see their dark forms silhouetted against the sky in ever changing constellations.  This year (early May, 2016) I felt a strong urge to make a symmetrical photograph of the birds in the tree.  I knew I had a limited time to accomplish this task--before the young leaves grow to their full size and hide the birds from my sight.

The tree looks especially beautiful this time of year with its little hints of young green leaves, its golden catkins hanging down from the limbs, and of course the birds who are resting for a while on the branches before whirling off again into space.




Birch Tree Catkins and Young Spring Leaves


For over a week I tried making a satisfactory photograph with which I could construct a symmetrical image, but every time I walked toward the window with my camera the birds would fly away.  Finally, one cloudy morning several birds collected on the tree and became very still . . . as if they were waiting for me to get my camera and take their photograph.  Just as I snapped the shutter, a Crow--which had been perched near the top of the tree next another, much smaller bird--opened its wings and flew off!

Of course that image became the source photograph with which I constructed the symmetrical image at the top of this page.  Synchronistically, just after making the photograph I read a talk by my meditation teacher, Gurumayi Chidvilasananda in which she tells the story from the Upanishads of two birds in a tree; one is sitting still, watching, as the other one is busy doing things.  Gurumayi said the birds represent the individual soul and the supreme soul:


It isn't that those two birds have to live differently forever.   
The supreme soul and the individual soul have to merge.  
The two birds have to become one. . . And as the two  
birds merge into each other, there is just one thing 
left, and that is nothingness, like the space 
 inside the tiny seed that gives rise  
to an enormous tree.  
Darshan magazine, issue #152   


This project is a meditation on the "City of Souls" symmetrical photograph, and Gurumayi's teachings about the two birds in the tree, and the space inside a seed.  (See my Addendum at the bottom of this page for the full text from Gururmayi's teaching about the two birds in the tree.)

When I contemplate the "City of Souls" photograph in the resonance of Gurumayi's grace-filled teachings, my mind becomes quiet; I enter a mode of being that is similar to a meditative state.  The two birds at the top of the tree--the one sitting still in the tree, watching, the other with its wings outstretched, flying away--become suspended together in time, just as the tree itself is suspended in space.  The photograph is a visual symbol for the time-beyond-time, the place beyond space, the realm of the Soul between sense perception and intellect where the Truth of the Oneness of Being is unveiled.


*


Know that . . .  Soul can flame 
like the feather of a bird.
Grow into your own 
plumage, brightly, 
so that any tree 
is a 
marvelous city.
James Applewhite,  excerpts 
from Prayer for My Son


The City of Souls
I looked up the word "Bird" in The Book of Symbols : Reflections On Archetypal Images and found the excerpt from James Applewhite's poem at the beginning of a short essay about the archetypal nature of birds.  For example, the authors write about the bird as a "symbol for the soul," as the "breath of the world" and as the "world soul hidden in matter."  They also mention how the Plains Indians compared the sacred circle of a bird nest to their own tepee where, according to Black Elk, "the Great Spirit meant for us to hatch our children."

But I kept returning to Applewhite's poem.  I found his images of the soul as a flaming feather, of growing into one's own "plumage," quite evocative.  Most fascinating to me was his image of the tree as a "marvelous city" . . .  a "city" of birds, and thus a city of "souls."  His images corresponded to my photograph and they awakened a memory of something I had read recently in the writings of Henry Corbin.

Corbin's book Spiritual Body and Celestial Earth is an exploration--in amazing scholarly detail--of the ancient, traditional, sacred knowledge of Mazdean and Shi'ite Iran.  There is one chapter in which he writes about "mystical cities of light," and in particular one city named Hurqalya which is "located" in the celestial "Earth of the Emerald Cities."  Hurqalya is also a "cosmic mountain," and a "celestial vault" that overhangs our earthly habitat.  The minerals in the soil of the mountain and in the walls of the city "secrete their own light" which, says Corbin, is blue, but to our vision is perceived as green.

Hurqalya is yet another manifestation of what Corbin terms the "Imaginal world," the Interworld of celestial souls endowed with "Active Imagination."  This is the in-between world--the inner realm--of archetype Images; a realm of being suspended between the world of sense perceptions (the world of "fleeting shadows") and the world of the Intellect.  For Corbin and his beloved Sufi mystic-scholar Ibn 'Arabi (b.1240, Spain), the Imaginal world is the creative "Source of Life at the psycho-cosmic center."  It is within this Interworld of "archetypal Images" that corresponding parts of both the sensible world and the Intelligible world are united, merged into each other.

Similarly, it is within the center-point of my symmetrical "City of Souls" photograph that the four mirroring source images conjoin into One.  And it is in this center space, this "psycho-cosmic center," where the sitting bird and the flying bird merge into each other and become One in the archetypal-pictorial form of a photograph that functions for me as a symbol.

When a photograph is functioning for me as a true, living symbol, I do not "know" its meaning in an intellectual sense.  Rather, an intuitive understanding arises spontaneously based in the timeless-spaceless realm of the Unity of Being; in other words, in the realm of the Heart, the source of all "sacred knowledge."  This kind of "knowing" or understanding is beyond intellect, beyond sense perception, beyond what's sayable.


The Flight of Birds
As this project unfolded I could not help but remember another story of birds: Mantiq-ut-Tayr is considered a masterpiece of Sufi literature written in 1177 by the Persian Farid al-din 'Attar.  It's a poem of longing that tells in 4,458 verses of a journey taken by a group of 30 birds, let by a colorful bird with a majestic crown of feathers known as a hoope.  The Poem is an allegory about a Sufi master leading his pupils to the knowledge of the Divine Truth.  

Below I am presenting a photograph, some text, and a poem by the Sufi poet-saint Rumi that were first published in the second chapter of my 2011-13 project "An Imaginary Book."  The title of the chapter is Celestial Gardens : Symmetrical Reflections of Paradisal Unity.  click here    


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              We came whirling
               out of nothingness
               like dust


               the stars made a circle
               and in the middle
               we dance


               the wheel of heaven
               circles God
               like a mill . . .


               and it is only God
               circling Himself 


                                                                                                 Rumi






 Celestial Gardens #2  ("The Flight of Birds to Union")  double-page illumination 



The great Islamic scholar Seyyed H Nasr writes about Mantiq-ut-Tayr in his book Islamic Art and Spirituality.  The title Mantiq-ut-Tayr can be literally translated variously as "the language" or "the speech" or "the song" of birds.  Nasr's essay entitled "The Flight of Birds to Union" begins with the following statement:

"All those who are not completely at home in this world of fleeting shadows and who yearn for their origin in the Paradisal Abode belong to the family of birds, for their soul possesses wings no matter how inexperienced they might be in actually flying toward the space of Divine Presence."

Shortly after this introductory passage he then writes about the symbolic-archetypal nature of the wings of birds:  "they symbolize directly the archetypal reality of flight, and of ascension in opposition to all the debasing and downgrading forces of this world, leading finally to escape from the confinement of earthly limitation." 


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Epilogue 

~  Merging With the Song of Birds  ~  

What happens when you hear a bird sing?
What happens when you hear the sound of the wind?
What happens when you watch the flames in a fire?
What do they teach? What do they say?
There are no words that explain
what they say, that explains what they sing.
But deep within we feel that connection, deep within we know something.
The reason we feel that connection, the reason we have the experience
of knowing, is that we merge into the song, we merge into the 
sound of the wind, we merge into the flames in the fire.
We don't need anybody's explanation.  We
just know; that connection is just there.
How does this merging take place?
It takes place through love, the
absolute love that exists
within all of us.

Gurumayi Chidvilasananda
from a talk published
in Darshan #105



Singing "Requiem for the Living"
It's mid May, and I have just recently sung--with 90 other members of the Finger Lakes Chorale--a wonderful new composition entitled Requiem for the Living by Dan Forrest.  It was for me, and I know for many others in the Chorale, a deeply moving, heart opening experience.  Surprisingly the music, and my experience of singing it, has become part of my meditation on the "City of Souls" symmetrical photograph.

The Chorale, directed by Dennis Maxfield, consists of all kinds of people: students and grandparents, amateurs and professionals, housewives and businessmen, etc.   I am not a trained musician, and I am certainly not an accomplished singer, but I love music and love the experience of being inside the creative process of making music, a process that inevitably takes me into the very center of the composition we are singing.  This center-space of the music is the place where I merge with the sounds of all the voices around me; it's the place where singers, musicians, conductor and audience become united in One Voice.  We transcend our differences and separateness and become--as it were--a "flock of soaring birds" on a musical journey together into the Unity of Being.  Counter-intuitively, this state of being is pervaded by a stillness and a peace that is a kind of meditative state . . . in which the mind comes to rest.  Indeed, Dan Forest wrote in an introductory statement for his Requiem for the Living:

Overall, the work is a prayer for rest ("Requiem"), for the living as much as for the deceased.  It's a "grant US rest", even more that a "grant THEM rest." ~  The final movement, Lux Aeterna, is simply an arrival at rest and peace, not just in the "eternal light" . . .  but even here and now, for us, the living, on earth.

A deep feeling of love, longing and devotion is at the heart of the Requiem for the Living, and when I fully embraced this graceful music, my heart opened to it and I experienced a kind of "death" myself as I was singing it.  That is to say, my individual voice, and my sense of being an individual person dissolved into the music and all the other voices surrounding me.  When this merging occurred I could sense a presence in the center of my being emerge into a much more palpable awareness. Gurumayi teaches that this is the experience of the Heart, the abode of love, the abode of the supreme Soul.  It's as if a door has been opened, revealing the most secret of hidden treasures within.


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The Trickster 
Our back yard is visited by many kinds of birds, including Golden Finches, Blue Birds, Cardinals, Sparrows, Robins, Blue Jays, Red winged Black Birds and Crows.  They make for quite an amazing "concert" of bird song.  They come to feast on the seeds we place in feeders on the borderline that conjoins our back yard with the beautiful meadow beyond.  After eating some seeds many of the birds fly up into the birch tree to congregate, to rest, and to sing their songs.  But, clearly they are also watching for an opening, the right moment when they can descend once again to the feeders.

The Crow is a most fascinating bird.  It's a black, numinous, and tricky bird.  In The Book of Symbols : Reflections On Archetypal Images, the authors refer to the Crow as a "dark angel" and "a minister of mysteries."  They write: "The crow or raven daemon, perched in our psyches, open doors, steal treasures for us from hidden places . . . "

And they write: "We never grasp the full measure of the birds.  They subvert our attempts to do so, just as the tricksters, shamans, magicians and culture heroes they embody in folklore and myth subvert our fondest notions of human superiority, put in question what constitutes the reality of sacred and profane, and rearrange our moral landscape."





In my "City of Souls" photograph, it is the Crow that is held suspended in flight as if it were caught frozen in the act of trying to escape its limited world for another far away.  When I see this image of the bird with its wings spread wide, I am reminded of a story I once read somewhere long ago--perhaps it was a folktale--that continues to haunt me to this very day.  It goes something like this:  A flock of crows descended upon the roof of a house.  Inside the house someone was deathly sick.  The birds rested on the rooftop throughout the day and throughout the night.  Mysteriously, in the morning, after the person inside the house died, the birds flew away.



The Catkins 
After I made the "City of Souls" photograph and began working on this project, I decided to make some close-up photographs of the golden, hanging catkins--those long, tightly clustered, cylindrical flower forms which contain the tiny seeds which give rise to any number of large birch trees.  I used one of those catkin photographs as a source image with which I created the symmetrical photograph below:



Symmetrical Photograph   "One Enormous Bird"


When I am in the process of contemplating an important photograph I often make other, new photographs that are in some way associated with that image.  This is, I believe, a visual form of meditation on the initiating image, a spontaneous, intuitive way of extending or deepening my understanding of--in this case--the "City of Souls" photograph.  Regarding the numinous symmetrical image of the catkins, above:  when I first let my imagination have free reign with it, the image appeared to me to be two large crows frozen in flight, with their wings spread wide.  The two birds seemed to be confronting each other, or perhaps communicating with each other in some non-verbal, perhaps telepathic way.

More recently, however, my perception of the image has shifted, and I see it in a surprisingly different way.  Now, there is only one enormous "bird," its gigantic dark wings flapping as it flies through the air.  The bird's "body" is nothing but vast, luminous, round space.  ~~  The two birds have become One.


And as the two birds merge into each other, 
there is just one thing left, and that is nothingness, 
like the space inside the tiny seed that gives rise to an enormous tree.

Gurumayi Chivilasanda

see below
"Two Birds In A Tree"


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~  Addendum  ~
Stories, Teachings and Background Information    
about the Upanishads
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Two Birds In A Tree

The Upanishads
The Hidden Place
The Heart
Inside a Seed
The Seed of the Universe

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Two Birds In A Tree   
Gurumayi often gives talks in which she comments on selected teachings from the Upanishads.  For example, in one such talk she tells the story, from the Svetasvatara Upanisad, of two birds in a tree:

One bird enjoys the fruit of the tree, and the other bird watches the first bird eating the fruit.  Who are these birds?  They are the supreme soul and the individual soul.  As individual souls, we live in this world through our senses.  Through our eyes, we watch.  Through our ears, we hear; through our mouth, we speak; through our nose, we smell; through our hands, we touch; through our legs, we walk, and so on. 

All the while the supreme soul just witnesses, just watches, just observes.  It is to attain this state of becoming a witness that we meditate.  Then we can live in this world, not through our senses but through the dristi of Shiva; through the real eye, through the real vision, through the real attitude.

In meditation the senses go to sleep, and that is when you experience the Witness, the observer.  When you experience the Witness, how do you know that you are experiencing it? If you say that you are, then you are not the Witness.  They say, nihsabdam brahma: the Absolute is without sound; the Absolute is completely still. . . There is an inner quietness.  When that takes place, know that Brahman is within you, God is within you; you have acquired Witness-consciousness.  

Lets go back to those two birds in the tree.  One bird is eating the fruit and the other one is watching.  It isn't that those two birds have to live differently forever.  The supreme soul and the individual soul have to merge.  It is for this merging that we meditate, it is for this merging that we chant, it is for this merging that we follow the spiritual path.  

The supreme soul must merge into the individual soul, and the individual soul into the supreme soul.  The two birds have to become one.  The Witness stays as it is, and the enjoyer of the fruit stays as it is, and yet in the inner realm they merge.  And as the two birds merge into each other, there is just one thing left, and that is nothingness, like the space inside the tiny seed that gives rise to an enormous tree.  This nothingness in the seed is beyond the beyond the beyond.  And this beyond the beyond is the ultimate devotion, the ultimate love.

This love is free from the senses, free from our actions.  This love is unconditional.  This love is what we yearn for, what we long for.  When it takes up permanent residence within us, then we live a life of truth.    note: this text was published in Darshan magazine, issue #152


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The Upanishads
The Upanishads are collections of holy texts, spiritual teachings from ancient India which reveal and preserve the eternal, sacred truths of Vedic Hinduism.  According to Dr. William Mahony, a professor of religion, and a student of the Siddha Yoga Path, there are well over one hundred Upanishads which were composed by 200 B.C., and some were composed as early as 500 B.C. or earlier.  He says the Upanishads are the earliest texts in which we learn of the single, divine Self that is the source and sustainer of the whole universe, the divine presence which dwells deep within each and every created thing.

In an interview with Dr. Mahony, published in a monthly Siddha Yoga publication, Darshan, #152, he explains the four foundational teachings of the Upanishads: 


1.  The whole world is Brahman.  Everything that exists finds its origin, essence, and fulfillment in the single, ultimate reality that is Brahman.

2.  Truly the Brahman is this Atman.  The eternal Self dwelling deep within the heart is identical to the Absolute that is present in all things.

3.  I am Brahman.  The divine power and Truth that give rise to and support the whole universe are identical to one's very deepest self, the Atman.  The "I" here refers to the Atman, which is identical to Brahman.

4.  Tat Tvam Asi: "Thou Art That"  The sublime essence of our deepest Self is identical to the sublime essence of the universe as a whole.


The Hidden Place
Dr. Mahony then reads to the interviewer the following passage from the Subala Upanisad on the mystery of the single divine presence that dwells, hidden, within all things:

In this hidden place within the body
there lies the eternal one.  The earth is
his body; he moves in the earth, but 
the earth knows him not.  The waters
are his body; he moves in the waters,
but the waters know know him not.  Light
is his body; he moves in light, but the
light knows him not.  He alone is the
indwelling spirit within all beings, free
from all stain, the One, the divine, the 
wise Self, the incomprehensible form,
radiant, autonomous, pure, residing in
this hidden place, immortal, shining 
with bliss.


The Heart

The Upanishads generally locate this "hidden place" within the heart, says Dr. Mahony.  The heart is therefore the abode of the divine Self; the heart contains all Truths and embraces all things:

. . . the space of this universe, 
both heaven and earth, 
fire and air, sun and moon, 
lightning and stars . . .

In general the Upanishads teach that the best way to reveal all that is hidden in the heart, to know the divine Self, is through turning within, that is to say,  through the practice of meditation, and sitting at the feet of a true teacheror sadhguru.



Inside a Seed 
In the Chandogya Upanisad there is the story of a student named Shvetaketu who is having a hard time understanding the nature of the single, essential Self that is his own true nature and which dwells, hidden, within all the things of the universe.  He asks his teacher, the enlightened sage Uddalka, for a lesson that might help him understand this greatest of mysteries.

The sage has his student crack open a tiny seed from a huge banyan tree.  ~  The student says he sees nothing.

The teacher tells his student:
Believe me, my dear, that subtle essence that you do not see: truly, from that very essence this great banyan tree exists!  ~  This whole world has a subtle essence for its self.  That is what is really real. That is the Self.  [And then he tells Shvetaketu] You are that! 

Upon hearing this, Shvetaketu has an "Aha" epiphany.   He has received the compassionate gift of his enlightened teacher's grace, and his heart "cracks open" releasing deeply felt intuitive understanding of the invisible secret, the hidden place within.    Darshan, issue #152 



The Seed of the Universe    

Gurumayi comments on the story above from the Upanisad with the following words:
What is the seed of the universe?  . . .  It's not something that is located in one place or another.  The seed of the universe is the soul.  It is the Self.  The sages have experienced it as a tiny Blue Pearl, a tiny dot.  Sometimes it looks like a star and sometimes like a pinpoint.  It's very very small.    Sometimes you don't even notice it even though it flashes before your eyes.  ~  The blue dot is very tiny yet very very powerful.  It has the power to create the universe. . . Sometimes people experience it as a light, either a soothing light or a burning light.  ~  Not just the earth made of clay, but the entire universe, all the galaxies, all the planets, and all the stars. . . have manifested from one tiny seed.   from a talk by Gurumayi Chidvilasananda, published in Darshan #102   




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This project was published and posted 
on my Welcome Page in the 
"Recently Added" section
June 1, 2016

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Related Links & Projects:

Siddha Yoga Path

The Sacred Art Projects List    
Here is the list of the projects that belong together under the sacred art category.  The projects are listed from the most recent at the top to the initiating project "An Imaginary Book" of 2011-13 at the bottom: 

There Is No Thing to Know   2016  
The Blue Pearl   2016
The Center of Being   2016   
Field of Vision   2015  
As Above, So Below ~ Mirror in the Temple   2015  
Photography and Yoga   2015  
Snow : Photographs from the Silver World   2015  
The Photograph as ICON   2015  
The Angels   2014 
The Space Between Color and Black&White   2014  
The Creative Process   2014  
"An Imaginary Book"   2011-13



Welcome Page  to The Departing Landscape website which includes the complete hyperlinked listing of my online photography projects dating back to the 1960's, my resume, contact information, and more.


















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