A Collection of
Stone Photographs
with Commentary
Stone Photographs
with Commentary
Any place where you turn but might have gone on,
all possibilities need you there.
The centers of stones need your prayers. from a poem by William Stafford
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all possibilities need you there.
The centers of stones need your prayers. from a poem by William Stafford
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Stone
Go inside a stone.
That would be my way.
Let somebody else become a dove
Or gnash with a tiger’s tooth.
I am happy to be a stone.
From the outside the stone is a riddle:
No one knows how to answer it.
Yet within, it must be cool and quiet
Even though a cow steps on it full weight,
Even though a child throws it in a river;
The stone sinks, slow, unperturbed
To the river bottom
Where the fishes come to knock on it
And listen.
I have seen sparks fly out
When two stones are rubbed,
So perhaps it is not dark inside after all;
Perhaps there is a moon shining
From somewhere, as though behind a hill--
Just enough light to make out
The strange writings, the star-charts
On the inner walls.
Charles Simic
1. Intimate Landscape A stone in a puddle
Introduction
I have made photographs of stones forever it seems. Sometimes I prefer to address stones as rocks--if it sounds or feels or looks better--but the two words mean the same ineffable One thing to me. Each of the photographs I am presenting here has its own unknowable potential for meaning. What it "means" to me depends on my silent dialogue with that which cannot be seen, and on how well I seen and listened to each stone. Seeing with the eyes and ears of the Heart would be my way. Having said this, please understand: my commentary on the photographs should not be considered equivalent to my silent, interior dialogues with the stones, and my contemplations of the photographs.
I discovered the last line of the Stafford poem quoted above in an old Aperture quarterly I bought in my Freshman year (1963-64) at the RIT Bookstore. Several issues were being made available there, I would later learn, because the editor of Aperture, Minor White, taught photography at the Rochester Institute of Technology. The words--the centers of stones need your prayers--have haunted my Creative Process to this very day. Indeed I consider each of my stone photographs a prayer, a blessing for both the stone and me. May it be so for you, and for others who contemplate the photographs.
In 1982 I bought a book of poetry edited by Robert Bly entitled News of the Universe, and that entire book became for me another constant companion in my life as a photographer. I found the Simic poem, Stone in the chapter dedicated to The Object Poem. What Bly writes about in the book, and especially in the Object Poem chapter entitled changed my life. I created a Photo II photography project based on that chapter; each time I lectured on the Thing Centered Photographs assignment I read the poem, Stone to my students. I would often tear up when I read it, especially when the words seemed to from deep inside my heart. In those special moments, the classroom would become very quiet, and I could feel the grace of the words (and my feeling) pervade the entire classroom.
Stones are living things for me. I have a vivid memory (from 1970 or 71) of seeing a large stone laying in a vast field of tall sunlit grass in a New Mexico landscape. That stone had such a powerful presence for me--like an animal resting, breathing deeply, and looking back at me as I acknowledged its living presence. I have had similar experiences with just about every stone I have ever photographed. (See my New Mexico Landscapes, 1971-72.)
After I became a student of Siddha Yoga Meditation (in 1987) I would hear and read stories about the great yogic saint named Hari Giri Baba. He wore the cloths that others gave him: a pair of fancy new shoes; a turban with gold trim; often he wore more than one overcoat at a time. He filled his coat pockets with stones which he collected from the nearby river, where he would go to spend the nights. He would give the stones to people; sometimes he would throw stones at people! The stones famously carried the grace (the Creative Power) of his transcendent state, his union with God, the divine Self. The lives of those who were fortunate in being blessed by one of his stones were changed in unfathomable ways. ~ Swami Muktananda, the founder of the Siddha Yoga Path, loved to talk about his experiences with the eccentric saint. Hari Giri Baba had helped him reach the supreme goal of yoga. The saint would just "show up" when Muktananda needed him most. Hari Giri Baba was all knowing, Muktananda would say; he knew the past, the present and the future. And out of love and compassion, he gave people what they needed through his gifts of stones.
Each of the photographs I have selected for this project functions for me as a Symbol. That is to say, the photographs are radiantly alive with the grace of my Creative Process, grace which I believe is directly connected to the power of the Siddha Yoga Lineage. True symbols are the Imaginal embodiment of the Oneness of Being.
After I became a student of Siddha Yoga Meditation (in 1987) I would hear and read stories about the great yogic saint named Hari Giri Baba. He wore the cloths that others gave him: a pair of fancy new shoes; a turban with gold trim; often he wore more than one overcoat at a time. He filled his coat pockets with stones which he collected from the nearby river, where he would go to spend the nights. He would give the stones to people; sometimes he would throw stones at people! The stones famously carried the grace (the Creative Power) of his transcendent state, his union with God, the divine Self. The lives of those who were fortunate in being blessed by one of his stones were changed in unfathomable ways. ~ Swami Muktananda, the founder of the Siddha Yoga Path, loved to talk about his experiences with the eccentric saint. Hari Giri Baba had helped him reach the supreme goal of yoga. The saint would just "show up" when Muktananda needed him most. Hari Giri Baba was all knowing, Muktananda would say; he knew the past, the present and the future. And out of love and compassion, he gave people what they needed through his gifts of stones.
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Each of the photographs I have selected for this project functions for me as a Symbol. That is to say, the photographs are radiantly alive with the grace of my Creative Process, grace which I believe is directly connected to the power of the Siddha Yoga Lineage. True symbols are the Imaginal embodiment of the Oneness of Being.
Under each photograph I have provided the title of the blog project in which it has been published; and below selected photographs I have written some commentary. ~ I encourage you to enlarge each of the photographs by clicking on the image once or twice. The enlarged pictures will appear against a black background, and you will notice that they render the image with much greater sharpness as compared to the way the images initially appear on the blog page before enlargement.
Welcome to the project.
Welcome to the project.
The Photographs
& Commentary
& Commentary
2. The Lake Series, Collage, 1981-82
I like the way a collection of stones will sometimes form a visual constellation that looks auspicious or meaningful--not necessarily like (for example) the stars of the Big Dipper in the night sky, but nonetheless a constellation that simply looks and feels meaningful without needing to appear as a recognizable representation of something already known. The Unknown is so much more interesting to me in the realm of poetry and visual art! True symbols are images of that which is unknown and at the same time have the grace, the Creative power to transform the contemplator.
In the photo collage (above) from my Lake Series we have simultaneously a distant view of a constellation of four large stones in the water, and a closer view of one large stone which has been divided in two pieces with a vast space in between. A string of buoys appear to be hanging from the top left edge of the halved stone. ~ The image as a whole pulsates with different bands of space-time within the gently illuminated mist and clouds of the rising sun.
In the photo collage (above) from my Lake Series we have simultaneously a distant view of a constellation of four large stones in the water, and a closer view of one large stone which has been divided in two pieces with a vast space in between. A string of buoys appear to be hanging from the top left edge of the halved stone. ~ The image as a whole pulsates with different bands of space-time within the gently illuminated mist and clouds of the rising sun.
3. New Mexico Landscape, 1971-72
4. New Mexico Landscape, 1971-2
The two images above from my New Mexico Landscape project were made while I was a graduate student at UNM, Albuquerque in 1971-72. My wife Gloria was pregnant with Shaun at that time. ~ The pregnancy was something of a miracle. Our doctor told us it would be highly unlikely that Gloria could become pregnant because of her medical situation. But one day, while Gloria's sister Florence was visiting us, they decided on a whim to check out a church in Albuquerque that Gloria had heard about from a fellow student. ~ One woman from the church came up to Gloria and welcomed her; then, as they talked the woman mentioned to Gloria that she had become a member of the church after being healed during a ceremony by other church members. She had been able to get pregnant because of a certain medical condition, and after the healing she and her husband became pregnant and then had several more children. ~ Gloria burst into tears when she heard her story. And everyone nearby came round Gloria to find out why she was crying. Gloria had the same condition that had prevented the other woman from becoming pregnant. ~ Everyone present formed a circle around Gloria, placed their hands upon her, and prayed for healing grace. ~ Our son Shaun was born in 1972; three years later Gloria became pregnant with our daughter Jessica.
6. Emergence, 1973 A Stone on the edge of shadow and light
When I made this photograph (above) for the Emergence, Atlanta, 1973 project I was spending a lot of time looking down at the ground for something to photograph, some event that visually shouted out to me: "Here, I Am. Make a picture!" ~ The small stone on the edge of the shadow and the light was such an event. ~ It was only after setting up my view camera on a tripod that I became aware of the broken beer bottle on the left edge of the frame, and the black heart shape in the foreground. I seldom feel like "I" am the one who composes the picture; everything just seems to fall into place by itself. It's as if something else takes over; as if the picture wants to "make itself." I give all the credit to the grace of my Creative Process, which in no uncertain terms has a "life" of Its own. I mostly try to pay attention, and listen, stay out of Its way, and support what It wants to do in every way possible.
7. Thing-Centered Photographs 1992-94 Beer Bottle and stone under a bush
This photograph from my Thing-Centered Photographs 1992-94 project also has a beer bottle and a stone in it. The stone--which is nearly hidden in the dark shadows of the bush--appears to have two eyes and an X for a nose. ~ The photograph was made on one of those dark dreary days when winter was turning into spring; when the warming sun of spring would appear for brief moments from behind the moving clouds and illuminate the secret things that had been hidden under the winter's accumulated snow. ~ The stone, which seems to be looking silently at the bottle, has reminded me of an experience I had with my stepfather one Christmas Eve.
(Some backstory: my dad died when I was nearly ten. Just before he passed away I was blessed with an epiphany: upon looking at some snapshots my cousin had excitedly wanted to show me, I knew in no uncertain terms that I would be a photographer. ~ After my mom remarried and we moved from Piqua Ohio to Portland Indiana my family situation became quite difficult for me. Photography became my refuge, my constant companion; it was always there for me, helping me live through those crazy high school years.)
My stepfather--his nickname was "Blackie"--turned out to be a weekend drinker and gambler. When he came home extremely drunk one Christmas Eve, I just looked at him, stunned, saying nothing . . . as he peed his pants while sitting on my mom's plastic-covered swivel rocking chair which was directly across from the shinny aluminum Christmas Tree we had gotten that year.
My mom was very quiet about her relationship to Blackie. Clearly she had idealized her marriage to my dad, and after she re-married, sold the house in Piqua and moved to Portland, she became very noticeably depressed. In letters I received from her when I was a Freshman at RIT she inferred that her relationship with Blackie had improved. Perhaps my absence had made a difference. ~ Three few years later Blackie died from an unusual medical event that involved choking while eating a peanut butter sandwich one night before going to bed. I learned later that after Blackie's death several men had approached my mom, asking if she would settle Blackie's gambling debts with them!
I wish I could have known more about Blackie's background, the demons that had haunted him, and his relationship with my mom. I was too angry and depressed to care in those days he was alive. In retrospect, however, it has occurred to me that perhaps it may have been a courageous act for Blackie to marry a woman with two children when he did.
My mom moved back to Piqua after Blackie's death. I had moved from Rochester, NY to Chicago just before his death to complete my undergraduate degree at The Institute of Design. I believe Blackie's death opened and set free something vital in me, for my involvement with photography as a fine art intensified even more after his passing, and my relationship with Gloria began in Chicago. A few years later Gloria and I married and we went to New Mexico together. ~ Strange are the ways of karma.
The picture below, from the same series, Thing-Centered Photographs 1992-94 is how my stomach felt as the weekends of my high school days approached. Sometimes on a Friday or Saturday night, when Blackie didn't come home from work, rather than waiting for his late and drunken arrival my mom would drive me and my sister (fifty-five miles) from Portland to Piqua to stay the night, and perhaps the entire weekend, with relatives. Photography, and art in general--what little I could learn about it in high school on my own--gave me hope for a better future life. I knew I just needed to get out of Portland and find a way to learning more about photography. (See my blog project: Snapshots : Stories of My Life In Photography and Teaching.)
(Some backstory: my dad died when I was nearly ten. Just before he passed away I was blessed with an epiphany: upon looking at some snapshots my cousin had excitedly wanted to show me, I knew in no uncertain terms that I would be a photographer. ~ After my mom remarried and we moved from Piqua Ohio to Portland Indiana my family situation became quite difficult for me. Photography became my refuge, my constant companion; it was always there for me, helping me live through those crazy high school years.)
My stepfather--his nickname was "Blackie"--turned out to be a weekend drinker and gambler. When he came home extremely drunk one Christmas Eve, I just looked at him, stunned, saying nothing . . . as he peed his pants while sitting on my mom's plastic-covered swivel rocking chair which was directly across from the shinny aluminum Christmas Tree we had gotten that year.
My mom was very quiet about her relationship to Blackie. Clearly she had idealized her marriage to my dad, and after she re-married, sold the house in Piqua and moved to Portland, she became very noticeably depressed. In letters I received from her when I was a Freshman at RIT she inferred that her relationship with Blackie had improved. Perhaps my absence had made a difference. ~ Three few years later Blackie died from an unusual medical event that involved choking while eating a peanut butter sandwich one night before going to bed. I learned later that after Blackie's death several men had approached my mom, asking if she would settle Blackie's gambling debts with them!
I wish I could have known more about Blackie's background, the demons that had haunted him, and his relationship with my mom. I was too angry and depressed to care in those days he was alive. In retrospect, however, it has occurred to me that perhaps it may have been a courageous act for Blackie to marry a woman with two children when he did.
My mom moved back to Piqua after Blackie's death. I had moved from Rochester, NY to Chicago just before his death to complete my undergraduate degree at The Institute of Design. I believe Blackie's death opened and set free something vital in me, for my involvement with photography as a fine art intensified even more after his passing, and my relationship with Gloria began in Chicago. A few years later Gloria and I married and we went to New Mexico together. ~ Strange are the ways of karma.
8. Thing-Centered Photographs 1992-94 Burlap Bag of Stones
9. Studies 1994-2000 Sliding Stone (3.5 inches square)
I love this miniature photograph from my 1994-2000 Studies project. The stone is like a baby, radiant with graceful innocence, that has just learned how to scoot around on its own, enjoying its new found freedom. Even its shadow is a playful mystery that extends the line of its movement. ~ I have seen photographs made in Death Valley of large rocks that have somehow managed to travel great distances across the desert floor, leaving its tracks behind it.
10. Studies 1994-2000 Zoo Stone (under water)
12. Studies - Monk's Quirky Music Face. with Tear and a Stone for a nose
I have seen stones that appeared to be sad, and perhaps had even been crying. Robert Bly wrote an essay (it's included in the back of his book News of the Universe) in which he contemplates "the psychic tone of nature," a feeling close to melancholy, or grief, "the tears of things." ~ Is this sadness I sometimes see and feel in things merely my own projection? Do objects have a consciousness? The ancient yogic sages and poet saints say: "Everything is alive with divine consciousness":
Perhaps stones are sad because we humans do not see things closely enough, do not become still enough to listen to what stories they are trying to tell us.
At dawn I was walking along with a monk
on his way to the monastery.
We do the same work, I told him. We suffer the same.
He gave me a bowl, and I saw
The soul has this shape.
Jalaludin Rumi (l207-1273)
Rumi: The Big Red Book
trans. Coleman Barks
Rumi: The Big Red Book
trans. Coleman Barks
Perhaps stones are sad because we humans do not see things closely enough, do not become still enough to listen to what stories they are trying to tell us.
13. Additional Studies, 1994-2000 Pillow & two stones, one on the edge of the shadow
14. Additional Studies, 1994-2000 Fence Shadow Stone
I enjoy seeing a stone (or any thing for that matter) merge with--dissolve into--the space in which it exists. That space between figure and ground is what Henry Corbin would call the Imaginal world, the ineffable, numinous Origin from all thing emerge, and into which all things return. Perception of this merging is a gift of grace; it makes me aware of presence in a heightened way; and it could make one question: "Can I believe what I'm seeing?" "What am I seeing?" (see image #28 below)
We have now entered the realm of color imagery. This red line seems to be functioning like an arrow directing my seeing to a single, isolated stone near the bottom edge of the frame--a stone that has been colored red; a stone that seems to be confronting the arrow.
15. Studies IX
16. Studies III Color Pebble and fragments on aluminum table
This stone has two dark eyes, but unlike the stone in Image #7, this one has a mouth--a very large mouth! In the foreground of this image there are two white things that seem to me to be counterparts to the stone's dark "eyes." It's "mouth" appears to be shouting angry words. ~ I saw this drama in Death Valley at a "rest" site. The two sets of eyes, the soft reflection of the stone's light on the ribbed surface of the aluminum picnic table, the dark, wiggly curving line which emerges out of that light . . . hold some kind of magical charm for me. ~ The aluminum is a gentle blue color because its surface is reflecting a cloudless sky.
17. The Angles, Part VI Stone in a Tide Pool, Schoodic Point, Acadia
18. Rock Flower Symmetrical photograph
The symmetrical photograph (#18) above is from the Epilogue to my multi-chaptered project The Angels. I invite you to see all five of the "Rock Flower" photographs; simply click on the hyperlinked title. I began making Symmetrical images in 2011 after I returned from a trip to Turkey. They are constructed with what I call "source" images, which are essentially straight photographs, as is the image immediately below (#19). The source images for the five symmetrical Rock Flowers were made on Schoodic Point, in Acadia National Park.
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19. Broad Brook 9-10 & 9-11 2016 Broad Brook Angel's Wing
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20. Death, A Meditation Broad Brook Angel, Symmetrical Photograph
21. Field of Vision : Epilogue symmetrical stone in Broad Brook rapids
22. Death : A Meditation Broad Brook Symmetrical Photograph
The three symmetrical images above (#20, 21 and 22) were constructed with "straight" source photographs made in Vermont where the waters of Broad Brook flow close by my brother and sister-in-law's house. From 2014-2018 I made many blog projects involving the photographs of Broad Brook's water and stones. The brook has become like an old friend to me, though in the beginning I was intimidated by the power of its rushing waters, which in times of flash flooding would literally throw huge stones around and into each other with such force as to make deep rumbling-growling sounds like distant thunder or some wild animal. (see my collection of Broad Brook projects)
I had a similar relationship to Lake Michigan on the shores of Milwaukee when I first tried to photograph the vastness of its water-space, the ever changing spectacle of its light, the force of its growing waves emerging from within its deep dark cold waters. I was in awe of the Lake's unfathomable presence. After many many early morning visits and through the continuum of changes of the seasons, the Lake and I grew to become trusted, respectful friends, even as I remained in awe of its greatness, its unknowable presence.
My photographs, when they function for me as symbols, are about the divine presence--the Oneness of Being that pervades our universe and its infinite number of created things. Through repeated visits to places and particular subject matters--and the willingness to work hard and strive to see beyond the surface appearance of things--photography has made it possible for me to achieve a bond with the things of the world, a bond that transcends the initial tendency toward aversion, fear and separation.
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I had a similar relationship to Lake Michigan on the shores of Milwaukee when I first tried to photograph the vastness of its water-space, the ever changing spectacle of its light, the force of its growing waves emerging from within its deep dark cold waters. I was in awe of the Lake's unfathomable presence. After many many early morning visits and through the continuum of changes of the seasons, the Lake and I grew to become trusted, respectful friends, even as I remained in awe of its greatness, its unknowable presence.
My photographs, when they function for me as symbols, are about the divine presence--the Oneness of Being that pervades our universe and its infinite number of created things. Through repeated visits to places and particular subject matters--and the willingness to work hard and strive to see beyond the surface appearance of things--photography has made it possible for me to achieve a bond with the things of the world, a bond that transcends the initial tendency toward aversion, fear and separation.
23. Falling Water Niagara Falls , a large stone and its miniature falls
24. Studies IX : Lila Two Stones and a still puddle at nightfall
24A. Pandemic Inspired Photographs "Illuminated Stone"
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25. Prayer Stones Symmetrical Photograph (click on image to enlarge)
My Symmetrical photographs are sacred ICON-like images that most literally embody the idea of the True Symbolic photograph. The symmetrical image above (#25) and below (#26) are from my multi-chaptered project "An Imaginary Book." The straight or "source" photographs with which they were constructed were taken in Turkey in 2011.
The idea to make symmetrical photographs and The "Imaginary Book" (two years in the making) was inspired by several mysterious experiences I had in Turkey associated with various forms of Islamic Sacred Art. The image above was published in the "Imaginary Book's" first chapter, entitled Prayer Stones. The chapter's title refers to experiences I had in Turkey when I heard the Islamic Call To Prayer being broadcast from mosques and their minarets throughout the many cities and villages we visited. As a man's voice would sing from the depths of his heart calling the people to prayer, I would imagine how those haunting sounds and their grace were being projected out over the city and beyond, into the landscape; I would imagine how the buildings in the cities, the stones in the earth, and the marble fragments of ancient ruins I had often seen laying in fields or being preserved in historical cites, were absorbing these prayers into their very being; how these physical forms were being transformed into sacred objects, objects palpably alive with grace.
"An Imaginary Book" became the initiating project in what would quickly grow into a large collection of Sacred Art Photography Projects, projects which generally consist of symmetrical photographs, though not exclusively; projects which explored the question of the possibility of Sacred Art production within a contemporary art practice--such as my own.
The symmetrical photograph below is from the second chapter of "An Imaginary Book" entitled Celestial Gardens. The source image was made in a large mineral springs in Turkey. There were warm pools there filled with ancient stones from buildings fallen into ruin long, long ago. The image actually looks, to me, like sound being projected outward from the photograph's center.
The idea to make symmetrical photographs and The "Imaginary Book" (two years in the making) was inspired by several mysterious experiences I had in Turkey associated with various forms of Islamic Sacred Art. The image above was published in the "Imaginary Book's" first chapter, entitled Prayer Stones. The chapter's title refers to experiences I had in Turkey when I heard the Islamic Call To Prayer being broadcast from mosques and their minarets throughout the many cities and villages we visited. As a man's voice would sing from the depths of his heart calling the people to prayer, I would imagine how those haunting sounds and their grace were being projected out over the city and beyond, into the landscape; I would imagine how the buildings in the cities, the stones in the earth, and the marble fragments of ancient ruins I had often seen laying in fields or being preserved in historical cites, were absorbing these prayers into their very being; how these physical forms were being transformed into sacred objects, objects palpably alive with grace.
"An Imaginary Book" became the initiating project in what would quickly grow into a large collection of Sacred Art Photography Projects, projects which generally consist of symmetrical photographs, though not exclusively; projects which explored the question of the possibility of Sacred Art production within a contemporary art practice--such as my own.
The symmetrical photograph below is from the second chapter of "An Imaginary Book" entitled Celestial Gardens. The source image was made in a large mineral springs in Turkey. There were warm pools there filled with ancient stones from buildings fallen into ruin long, long ago. The image actually looks, to me, like sound being projected outward from the photograph's center.
26. Celestial Gardens Fragments of Marble Ruins in a mineral spring, Turkey
Epilogue
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27. The Siva Sutra Rock project : Photograph #1 in the series of twelve
I will conclude this project with two photographs published in my Siva Sutra Rock project. The image above is the first in the series of twelve photographs in the project. This image and the other eleven photographs were made on February 24, 2018, an auspicious spiritual holiday for students of Siddha Yoga Meditation known as MahaShivaratri, the day and night in which Shiva, the Lord of All Creation is reverently honored.
It was a rainy day, and rain in Siddha Yoga is considered very auspicious for it is understood to represent the grace which Lord Shiva is constantly showering upon his devotees. I became charged with determination to go out into my back yard, and out into the rain, and make some photographs that would somehow honor Lord Shiva and His "rain of grace."
When I saw some rocks in one of our small backyard gardens I became pleasantly surprised and attracted to them; they seemed to be glowing with their own internal light. The rain had brought out tones and details in the rocks that I had not noticed before, and probably were not visible when dry. One photograph led to another, and then to another, until pretty soon I realized a project was possibly forming in which the wet rocks would serve as its central thematic motif.
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As I was preparing the images and the text for the project--a project which at that time had remained unnamed--I recalled a story I had read in an excellent book entitled The Splendor of Recognition by Swami Shantananda, a Siddha Yoga teaching swami. In the book's Epilogue he tells the traditional story of the origin of the Siva Sutras, the seminal text of Kashmir Shivism, the philosophy of nondualism so beloved by the founder of the Siddha Yoga Path, Swami Muktananda.
An extremely large boulder is said to have existed in the Mahadeva Mountain region of Kashmir (in the northernmost part of India) in the ninth century, and the great yogic sage, Vasugupta (born 860 AD - died 925 AD) was said to have been directed, in a dream, to seek it out. When Vasugupta at last came to the huge rock next to a stream at the base of the Mahadeva Mountain, it overturned before him--as if by divine will--and revealed, inscribed on its underside, the 77 aphorisms that came to be known as the Siva Sutras.
The aphorisms are so concentrated that many many great yogic scholars, sages and saints have devoted much of their lives to writing commentaries on the sutras. Swami Muktananda published a book of commentaries on a selection of the aphorisms entitled Nothing Exists That Is Not Shiva. I have included excerpts from his commentaries with my twelve photographs in the Siva Sutra Rock project.
An extremely large boulder is said to have existed in the Mahadeva Mountain region of Kashmir (in the northernmost part of India) in the ninth century, and the great yogic sage, Vasugupta (born 860 AD - died 925 AD) was said to have been directed, in a dream, to seek it out. When Vasugupta at last came to the huge rock next to a stream at the base of the Mahadeva Mountain, it overturned before him--as if by divine will--and revealed, inscribed on its underside, the 77 aphorisms that came to be known as the Siva Sutras.
The aphorisms are so concentrated that many many great yogic scholars, sages and saints have devoted much of their lives to writing commentaries on the sutras. Swami Muktananda published a book of commentaries on a selection of the aphorisms entitled Nothing Exists That Is Not Shiva. I have included excerpts from his commentaries with my twelve photographs in the Siva Sutra Rock project.
The ancient yogic teachings say that Shiva dwells hidden, as if behind a veil, within each and every One of His infinite Creations, including the hearts of every human being. And it is through Shiva's grace--known as Chiti Shakti, Shiva's feminine aspect--the "Creative Power of the Universe," that the "veil" is lifted and the Lord makes Himself known to us.
This image was made ten days after MahaShivaratri, on the morning of March 14 in the initial hours of what would become a major two-day snow storm in New York State. As I contemplated the image, it dawned on me that the rock--barely visible beneath the snow--was the same rock I had photographed and published as the first image in the Siva Sutra Rock project (image #27, above). I decided to add the image to the project as an Epilogue, with a very brief text, the last sentence of which states:
Gratitude
I am grateful to all the stones that have blessed my life with their presence, their grace, and the many silent dialogues we have shared--dialogues which have taken visual form as photographs such as those I have presented in this project, photographs which through their power as symbols acknowledge and celebrate Shiva's Oneness of Being that pervades the entire universe, including each and every stone, and each and every human heart.
RELATED Links:
Visit the Welcome Page to my Departing Landscape photography blog which includes the complete listing of my online photography projects dating back to the 1960's, my resume, contact information, and much much more.
.
Though the stone
itself is not visible because
itself is not visible because
of the veil of snow that covers it,
nonetheless the living Presence of Siva is there, for
me, in the soft emerging form that resembles the human heart.
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Gratitude
I am grateful to all the stones that have blessed my life with their presence, their grace, and the many silent dialogues we have shared--dialogues which have taken visual form as photographs such as those I have presented in this project, photographs which through their power as symbols acknowledge and celebrate Shiva's Oneness of Being that pervades the entire universe, including each and every stone, and each and every human heart.
29. Symmetrical Photograph from Death : A Meditation
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ADDITIONAL PHOTOGRAPHS
30. from the project THAT
31. from the project THAT
32. from the project: The Great Wonder in Simple Things
33. from the project: Snow Photographs In Praise of the Christmas Spirits
34. from the project: Musica Collada
This project was announced on my blog's
Welcome Page February 1, 2020
RELATED Links:
Visit the Welcome Page to my Departing Landscape photography blog which includes the complete listing of my online photography projects dating back to the 1960's, my resume, contact information, and much much more.
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