Heather Robinson Photography » Blog

Into Something Better – August 2017

Sleeping in the Forest by Mary Oliver

I thought the earth remembered me,

She took me back so tenderly

Arranging her skirts

Her pockets full of lichens and seeds.

I slept as never before

A stone on the riverbed,

Nothing between me and the white fire of the stars,

But my thoughts.

And they floated light as moths

Among the branches of the perfect trees.

All night I heard the small kingdoms

Breathing around me.

The insects and the birds

Who do their work in darkness.

All night I rose and fell,

As if water, grappling with luminous doom.

By morning I had vanished at least a dozen times

Into something better.

We as a group of artist mothers from all over the world are making it our priority to turn off the tv/video games so that we can give our children the sacred experience to connect with the fast disappearing natural world. We will freelens our adventures into the wild and share them through this monthly project.  The goal of this collaborative is to journey “Into Something Better”.

“The Catalyst”

This is where hope sprang.  This hike in the mountains rekindled a flame that had nearly gone out.  We needed this.  We needed to run barefooted through the forest with only a sinuous brook as our guide.

Keep on keeping on around the beautiful blog circle with my insanely talented friend Joni Burtt in Canada.

a normal day

On October 18th, my daughter was born and I became the mother of three children. Hundreds of miles away, on the same day, another baby girl was born and another woman added the third child to her family. We were complete strangers at that time, but our love of photography and family brought us together. We started to have a conversation about motherhood with images, because we tell stories with our cameras. Since some tales are so similar, and some are not, we decided to collaborate and share a photo a week from a normal day as a mother to three.

“Normal day, let me be aware of the treasure you are. Let me learn from you, love you, bless you before you depart. Let me not pass you by in quest of some rare and perfect tomorrow. Let me hold you while I may, for it may not always be so. One day I shall dig my nails into the earth, or bury my face in the pillow, or stretch myself taut, or raise my hands to the sky and want, more than all the world, your return.”         – Mary Jean Irion

Grace has escaped me. It’s beginning to show in the things I do, my daily life. For two years I have felt it slipping, and wasn’t even sure what to call it then. In fact, the closer I came to defining my grace, the more I could see it was growing thinner and what passed as grace was an exhausting act of kindness and patience with no deep roots. I’ve started and stopped so many times now, to get better, to get rooted, to give myself the care that grace needs to grow again. I have the maps. I have the plans, the chants, the songs, the hope, the desire, the fear. I read the books, the cards, the skies. And when it feels the messiest, and usually is the messiest, it is with these girls who first gave me the glimpse of grace that I know I’m going to make it. We ran to the ocean, in less than ten minutes we left the house behind and all our activities paused mid-play, and we ran into the water and it was so cold it was shocking. It was the perfect kick in the ass to get my head on straight and hold onto my grace and get it to grow again.

photo by Olivia Gatti     website Facebook

Into Something Better – July 2017

Sleeping in the Forest by Mary Oliver

I thought the earth remembered me,

She took me back so tenderly

Arranging her skirts

Her pockets full of lichens and seeds.

I slept as never before

A stone on the riverbed,

Nothing between me and the white fire of the stars,

But my thoughts.

And they floated light as moths

Among the branches of the perfect trees.

All night I heard the small kingdoms

Breathing around me.

The insects and the birds

Who do their work in darkness.

All night I rose and fell,

As if water, grappling with luminous doom.

By morning I had vanished at least a dozen times

Into something better.

We as a group of artist mothers from all over the world are making it our priority to turn off the tv/video games so that we can give our children the sacred experience to connect with the fast disappearing natural world. We will freelens our adventures into the wild and share them through this monthly project.  The goal of this collaborative is to journey “Into Something Better”.

Our Summer break is drawing to a close with school starting in just a few days.  This has been an odd Summer.  Normally we spend every weekend in the water.  Either we are splashing and fishing in the cool river or we are swimming and playing on the beach at the warm lake.  But not this year.  Your crazy mama has been dragging you all over the mountains in search of a special place to call our own.  Now that the hunt is over, it is hard for me to sit back and wait until we can finally enjoy our little cabin next to the bold stream.  One month feels like an eternity.  So, we try to return to normal and enjoy the special places that used to define our Summers together.

Please do continue around the blog circle to see the exquisite freelensing work of my friend, Celeste Pavlik.

the effect of her being

“But the effect of her being on those around her was incalculably diffusive:

for the growing good of the world is partly dependent on unhistoric acts;

and that things are not so ill with you and me as they might have been,

is half owing to the number who lived faithfully a hidden life,

and rest in unvisited tombs.”

– George Eliot, Middlemarch

Heather Robinson

blog | Facebook

Amanda Voelker

website | facebook

Into Something Better {Strathmere Beach, NJ, USA – June 2017}

 

Sleeping in the Forest by Mary Oliver

I thought the earth remembered me,

She took me back so tenderly

Arranging her skirts

Her pockets full of lichens and seeds.

I slept as never before

A stone on the riverbed,

Nothing between me and the white fire of the stars,

But my thoughts.

And they floated light as moths

Among the branches of the perfect trees.

All night I heard the small kingdoms

Breathing around me.

The insects and the birds

Who do their work in darkness.

All night I rose and fell,

As if water, grappling with luminous doom.

By morning I had vanished at least a dozen times

Into something better.

We as a group of artist mothers from all over the world are making it our priority to turn off the tv/video games so that we can give our children the sacred experience to connect with the fast disappearing natural world. We will freelens our adventures into the wild and share them through this monthly project.  The goal of this collaborative is to journey “Into Something Better”.

I can still remember quite clearly the first time I ever saw this place. I went with Daddy. We weren’t married yet. I met all of his family here. They had come together from all over the country to meet up on this island in New Jersey. For generations, Daddy’s family has been congregating in this magical place each Summer. I didn’t know then that daddy and I would one day be married and that we would have a family of our own to bring here every year. I hoped we would. But the future was so blurry back then. While it isn’t crystal clear even now, I do imagine it looking like this for many more years to come. And that causes my soul to soar.

 Continue around the blog circle with my talented friend in Maryland, Beth Urban.