Welcome back to another post of Negative Space.
It’s officially been one full year of publishing this monthly letter and I can say that it has become something I look forward to posting every month. This publication almost acts as a monthly reset; a kind of refocus on why I do what I do. Hopefully it’s helped you in some ways too.
Negative Space was born out of a time of uncertainty and waiting in my life. A time of doubt.
A time of rediscovery.
It was a time that I needed and an important time for me to really sit with my passion of photography and evaluate. Negative Space was instrumental in working those things out by writing about them. I had to sit with them, examine them, find beauty in them. There was a stillness that only a void like that could bring. And in it was space to pursue a deeper knowledge of something that I love so much.
For a few months a co-worker and friend of mine, Madaline Hall, who also writes her own Substack called You’re Here, have talked about collaborating on a post here on Substack. Madaline pairs her poetry with her photography in a way that fills the gaps. What the photograph doesn’t say, the poem takes over. And where the poem leaves space, the photo compliments. On any given day this time of year you’ll probably find Madaline outside with her husband Caleb with a fly fishing rod in hand and near a creek somewhere. Themes of nature, spirituality, and common beauty seep into her poems and are also reflected in her photographs. I encourage you to go subscribe to her Substack and to benefit from her creative space.
Coming up on a year of Negative Space, I thought this would be the perfect time to collaborate. Madaline showed me the image and the poem that she was working on thought the theme fit perfect with what I was talking about above.
If you’re reading this, you are probably someone who pursues a creative practice in some way. I believe there are times for all of us where we go through times of waiting, seasons of transitions that feel like a void, or times where we need to sit with our work for a while. Whatever it may be, those seasons may resemble that of a desert land. The desert is vast, dry, and barren. Yet there is still life. We just have to look a little closer. I think Madaline does a great job communicating this in her poem, A Meeting in the Dried Land.
A Meeting in the Dried Land
The moment has passed,
and it still lingers
somewhere.
A stillness
only felt
in a place left barren,
and somehow green
governs still to live,
the wind still moves,
and creatures still hide.
Life must be pursued here,
otherwise wait to be walked all over.
Yet she sits
waiting to be noticed,
a scene ready to be held,
and with space to return home to.
Waiting for just one
is all it takes.
She’s the forgotten one,
not for lack of anything,
but for her depth on all ends.
Requiring solitary stillness,
breaths of slow guiding in and out,
closed eyes lead
then her layers fall
and she begins to speak.
Meeting in the dried land
requires nothing but
your entirety.
You’ll receive it back anew.
Stillness, Pursuit, Receiving
“A stillness only felt in a place left barren”
There is something different about a stillness in a barren place. It wont fold to your plans or timing. Rather it will gracefully and patiently push you to embrace the stillness that it offers. Sometimes that’s what we need. And just because we aren’t moving or busying ourselves with something doesn’t mean that there aren’t things happening or that there isn’t life.
Sometimes in order to feel the wind we need to stop moving.
The stillness allows us to sit with what has been given to us, to process things and figure out what we need to pursue.
“Life must be pursued here, otherwise wait to be walked all over.”
I’ve found that after acknowledging the stillness, I often find myself pursuing. That’s how this publication started. Often times there’s a choice we have to make. We acknowledge the stillness and then we come to a cross roads. How will we respond? Will we continue to sit in the barren place and to acknowledge only the barren? Or will we search for life?
Searching for life looks different for each of us. It could be pursuing a new art form, revisiting old work, or experimenting by pushing the boundaries of a familiar art form. For me, it was expanding to writing about my creative process. This was like turning a diamond ever so slightly to see another aspect of how the light hit it. This helped not only in the aspect of photography but also in the broader sense of being a creative being. Sometimes we don’t know what we’re pursuing, and that’s ok. Leaving space open for what comes can be valuable and refreshing. Sometimes we will be surprised at what we receive.
“You’ll receive it back anew.”
The last stanza of this poem is an encouragement. A refreshing reminder that during those times of meeting in the dry land all we need bring is our entirety. At first glance, these meetings might have a negative context. But that’s not always the case. When I look back at these times in my own creative life, I am reminded mostly of what I received out of it rather than the actual experience of going through it. Madaline writes, “She’s the forgotten one, not for lack of anything, but for her depth on all ends.”
These “meetings” that I have experienced have been the times in my life where I have grown the most as a creative and a human. And I’m sure you have too. They are the times that hold the most depth, yet as time passes we forget how much depth they truly held. Which is not a bad thing, but its good to be reminded of the beauty that the dried land can hold.
Even if that beauty can only be seen in hindsight.
Sometimes that’s how we can really appreciate what we’ve received from those moments.
Bring your entirety
These “meetings” are not always a bad thing or in a negative context. Sometimes these can be seasons of rest and renewal to start back on things again. Other times they are times of experiencing creative burnout, a rough life transition, or a season of uncertainty.
Whatever the case my be, I encourage you to bring your entirety.
Think about what can be pursued.
Look back on what you’ve received in the past.
Look forward to what you will receive anew.
Cheers,
Andrew