Serenity

And you have made the world. And it is large
and like a word that yet in silence ripens.
And as your will takes in the sense of it,
tenderly your eyes let it go…
-Rainer Maria Rilke

It seems like such a simple thing, it feels so natural and appropriate, but in fact, it has been my lifelong goal. It is all through my photographs. It is in every corner, every nuance of my work, right to the very edge, it is “the force that drives the green fuse” through my very being. It is a sense of serenity or well-being. It can be expressed as humor, grace, delicacy, order, etc. It is a sense of equilibrium, or buoyancy, where chaos meets order, and on some level, is resolved.

It has almost been like I’ve been following a yellow brick road for most of my life, seeking this peace, but only rarely, on a singular hilltop along the way have I even gotten a glimpse of it. I know what it feels like, and I know how to express it. The problem is, I don’t know how to enjoy it.

Peculiarly, I can remember on two occasions in my 62 years when I was able to sight, or perhaps feel is a better term, what I’ve been seeking feels like.

On both occasions, I was on a beach, the tranition area where land meets sea. Where one unknown confronts the next. It is on this unknown, small strip of land, where people feel the least inhibited, able to shed their clothes and burdens, and feel somewhat liberated. It is here, on these small strips, that my life, on a few occasions, has felt the most at-ease.

The first was when I was a boy, about 17 years old, where I and my family had gone to Barbados for holiday. It was during that transition period I described last week, where instead of anxiety at the diminishing of the day, I felt peace. I could feel it slowly enter my body, and resolve itself to stay for a few moments.

All at once, the struggles, the queries, and anxieties relaxed, and I felt a sense of unity. Of course the night continued its journey, and the normal lack of stasis reemerged.

The second occasion, I was also on a beach, on a glorious early spring day, as today, in a small village in North Wales. It was called Aberdaron, and we had crossed a small bridge to get to the beach. I was with my five-year-old son, and out of the blue, the air, the sea, the smells engulfed me with renewal. I felt once again complete. I was able to stop, and simply enjoy the moment.

I can’t figure out why there, but those small glimpses have led me on. I realized I could enjoy it, and experience the thrill of contentment. I have continued this quest, both in my personal life, and in my pictures.

I see what I am seeking often, in the gentleness of a touch, the grace in a woman’s stance, or even in laughter. I see it in the way people hold a cup, or gaze at their partner, or in the landscape, and some architecture, some furniture, and often in older art. I rarely find it in modern popular culture.

My photographs are part of the journey to The End of that road. They are my attempt to help with the quest, to point the way for me, and for others, that out there we are not abandoned and forsaken. In life, we can find what we are looking for, both in the manmade and the naturally occurring. We can find the peace we seek, if only for a short time, and finally let it go.