Lost & Found Photography
  • Home
  • Blog
  • L&F Language

Dissolving in Silence

7/15/2015

0 Comments

 
Picture
"She waited by the phone for years. It rang every now and then; she would answer, heart racing with anticipation, only to be met with the occasional random telemarketer or distant relative - always the same....a void voice to remind her of the empty chair and its sentence of silence."  - Shana McDonald


My husband and I visited this historic mansion somewhere in Western Washington during our 22nd anniversary trip this year (because I really don't remember names or places all that well as of late).  We kept things low key, calm, and soothing from the bed and breakfast nestled in the woods with lake views, a drive that took less than 3 hours from home, and planned a "purposeful purposelessness."  It was a sorely needed get-away after a year's worth of heartache, mental illness, and doubt about hope, the divine, and if the creation of humans was ever a good idea....  This was the last weekend we spent together before he returned to work after being on disability for a year due to disabling bipolar depression.  He felt ready.  I felt he was ready.  Neither of us really knew if either of us was ready to face the world again because we knew it would be a long road to becoming whole again for each of us.  The journey continues and the load a bit lighter for both of us this summer; we pray that we can bottle all the sunshine we can possibly hold to keep us warm when the inevitable storms of life once again come to pass.  Our relationship is stronger than it ever has been before....a strength I thought I knew, but am only just now beginning to scratch the surface.  As I was editing pictures from a recent photo shoot with an exceptionally sweet family, I happened to come across the photo above, shot earlier this year.  It struck me as such a sharp contrast to all those beaming smiles and tickling toes and laughter from the shoot.  And it reminded me of how I felt and still do to a certain extent, about the fragility of the human mind, the need for meaningful relationships, and a bit of sadness in that big beautiful mansion.  The owner who gave us a tour of her historic mansion, an older woman who lived alone, filled it with lovely antiques and many family photos of long past with smiling children and grandchildren.  The intricate cornice mouldings, corbels, hand-carved tables and chairs, the sculptures and artwork from other countries, the historic bar on the third level frequented by the city's founder - it was all absolutely lovely, but the house felt so empty and my heart ached for the owner.  She clearly had vivid memories of time spent with family in this house, but it was unclear if she had any recent tender moments with family.  As I was snapping away with my camera, the silence kept filling up the space between antique after antique and became a gnawing question for me.....does she miss herself?  The self that lived before life thrust the word "alone" upon her.  This picture was begging for a narrative....fictional or not, feelings are real, justified or not, feelings are beyond judging as they are the burden of being human.  It is the next step after a feeling that slowly shapes what we are and where we wind up.  And this image felt as if its former inhabitants had been swallowed by silence.  I am reminded to savor the sounds of life within and around us - something as simple as the sound of breath, even the occasional snoring of my husband; it is proof he is still choosing to live rather than succumb to the numbing silence as sentenced by his mental illness.  He refuses to dissolve.  And I refuse right along side of him.
0 Comments

"Summer Snow" - alternative book art

4/14/2015

0 Comments

 
Picture
Picture
Summer Snow
Written by Shana McDonald


Feverishly chasing the sunshine,

I learn to co-exist with the incessant chill in my bones.

Yielding to its embalming paralysis of self and soul,

home is now an ungiving un-sanctuary,

its inhabitants mummified.

Warm sunlight bathes the windows;

its taunting golden tendrils 

stir false hope and spin tales of better days ahead.

We look beyond the bright light and see weeds everywhere…

they grow in her sunbath and smudge the path to relief.

No matter how hard I pluck, pull, and prune

practicing the patience they demand,

 and praying for passage to the next chapter,

my words and actions feel like fertilizer for their covetous roots - 

l e n g t h e n i n g,

threatening,

creating fissures

 in the Mountain once called “Us,” “We,” “One,”

wrapping ever so slowly around all things rosy and sanguine

until its chokehold strikes grey.


And Him…

He has had to learn to breathe 

despite the  l o n g  implacable choke,

the restriction of thought,

the badgering of self,

the interruption of laughter.

He rises with no hope and 

hits the pillow when the tears have run dry,

eyelids so weary, they cannot be willed to lift.

The cocoon of medications stand guard over the night’s watch,  

battling demons no one else can understand,

fighting frantically to find rest.

His practice of belonging to himself is no longer,

his mind no longer his practice.

0 Comments

Harmony

7/16/2014

0 Comments

 
"She is Harmony" - a poem I wrote that was inspired by my daughter who has endured much, laughs much, and brings my husband and I joy beyond measure and is living proof of divinity.
Picture
0 Comments

Perfectionism

1/26/2014

0 Comments

 
Picture
PERFECTIONISM
Perfectionism is a tyrant who will never be satisfied
Who will never make you whole
She will rob you of precious time
She will tease you with false security
She is a LIE
She is v a p o r in your hands
Lead in your feet
Dilution of whimsy
Ache in your bones
Worry in your brow
Tension in your chest
Dry sweat on your neck
Furrowed wrinkles replete with ill-fated exactness
She will narrow your vision with laser-like precision until the only thing you see in the mirror is an impeccably-placed set of
Pretty Bones
Bones that click and clack

The air p a s s i n g through what once was you.
0 Comments

Wonder

10/1/2013

0 Comments

 
If only a bit of undiluted wonder could be resurrected in each of us once a day...I often wonder how we might view things differently both in the present and in hindsight.  Some days I try much harder than others to open my eyes and really "see" something for the first time.  Today, was one of those days.  Feeling blessed.  Created the image below using an awesome iPad app called "Paper by 53" - check it out at https://www.fiftythree.com/paper.
Picture
0 Comments
Forward>>
    Picture

    Author

    Hello there! Welcome to a place where I share thoughts on life's "lost-and-found" moments that we all experience in different seasons. My name is Shana, also know as photographer, mom, wife, and full-time student pursuing a Masters in Cultural Studies.  It is my hope to infuse a bit of whimsy, wit, or compassion during your stay.  Thank you so much for visiting!

    View my profile on LinkedIn
Proudly powered by Weebly