We zoom in. We squint. We tilt heads and thrust necks forward.
We walk to the next case, the next frame and hold hands behind our backs so as to notice without touching the strokes of oil, the blended hues creating glen and chin and river and belly.
We look intent at the dark and light contrast revealing the sheen of the family photograph, the sorrow and glory, steadfast.
We count mysterious objects pinned to the wall and examine beadwork and see again the way color becomes new.
After church and Mother’s Day brunch at our table and homemade cards and squeezes around the neck, we visit the art museum, and it’s the first time with all three girls, and I remember my smallness and how I hunger to share beauty and mystery with the ones I love.
The inside of these frames doesn’t tell the whole story, nor does the white curtain in my living room nor the chartreuse leaf in your garden nor the arching brow on the face you know so well, but they are no less true for only being part.
Sometimes the girls and I walk around the backyard or along the path with thumb and index finger squares because life can feel so big and when we bring it in — the blossom, the bark, the stone, they help us see the rest a little more clearly.
When we frame something in, we say yes, this is important, and it is not all that is important, but it still is. The small helps make sense of the big.
I’ve felt overwhelmed by the world’s burdens and life’s largeness lately and have wanted to live hemmed in, something in me crying out for still small peace.
Yesterday my mother-in-law and I stood long before a piece of Japanese art fashioned from winter white plaster, and it did not have beginning or end, folding back on itself over and over. No side representing front or back, left or right.
“I could look at this for days,” I said, walking in circles around the clear case.
“Yes,” she said. “It’s like I could feel the weight of the world on my shoulders and see that and think, ‘It’s not so bad at all.'”
Here, before the curled, rippled, curved gift that we could grasp in hands, time slows and we are reminded of our smallness in light of all that is out there.
It’s a wonder how this art framed by clear walls radiates so luminous that we touch eternity’s hem.
_____________________________
This morning I intended to write about the frame as a part of the Concrete Words series (that I used to do with the community at The Runamuck) that is now being hosted permanently at the lovely Nacole’s place. When I came downstairs this morning to write, this frame greeted me. These simple photos are a little morning view through the frame. Bless you in the big as you slow to see the small.
Linking also with Heather for Just Write and Jennifer for Tell His Story.
Connecting through the power of stories written, spoken and lived
I’m curious what the Japanese art piece looks like! It sounds very zen.
I wish I’d been able to photograph it, Daniel (or at least made note of the artist’s name. I believe the piece was 2011). It was truly exquisite….I’ve never seen anything like it. Utterly restful, but also invigorating. Calming, but causing me to question. Amazing.
Oh friend. I so get this because this has been a living theme of mine..framing. I love this so very much. You tell with such beautiful uniqueness of framing the small to help see all more clearly. Big can be so burdensome. Breaking life down in bite sized pieces of small and beautiful, manageable and do-able, live-able, love-able — it is freeing and lovely. Thank you, sweet one.
Framing….I absolutely see how you do this in your writing, friend, and in the living you relate across the page. I agree that there is such freedom in living small. It seems contradictory, doesn’t it, but what good in releasing all of it to see just this.
Ahhh, so lovely, Ash. Reading these words helps me breathe a little deeper and finally bring into focus those things that have been blurry in their frames. It’s a little clearer now and approachable. Thank you, dear friend. Happy Mother’s Day to a wonderful Mamma!!! Love you!
Oh, friend, I’m so happy to hear that and pray you are able to focus in on some more snatches of beauty today. Thank you for your words, and happy day to you, buddy. xoxo
Dear Ashley
Oh, my friend, I often am overwhelmed when I look at the wonder of creation and realize that it is but just the work of our Pappa’s hands. At times like these, I can only fall to my knees to praise and glorify the God who desires my love so much. How can I who am so tiny and small in the scale of everything I can relate to, be so blessed to be loved so much!!
Keep well, my friend
Mia
It is one of the greatest mysteries, isn’t it, Mia? Thank you for your words here.
Just love this. Framing – viewing something specific. Being aware.
Blessings,
Janis http://www.janiscox.com
Thank you, Janis. Happy to see you here.
Love your writing – and that you are sharing it! I am doing a “photo a day” for this month with a few others and it has give me an opportunity to “frame” visions in my day to day life, while focused on a word. I am surprised by my purposeful “seeking” of what I will photograph each day!
I love that you are doing that project, Martha! My mom did a similar one several years ago and found such meaning in it. What joy in the seeking, finding and framing…I feel the same way when I slow to write. Bless you as you continue on that journey, friend.
Thank you for sharing a perspective in life that I hadn’t considered. Purposeful “framing” can do so much in making life feel more doable. Frames can help contain all that we want included in our day and keep out the unnecessary things that tend to clutter up what’s important. It was so nice visiting from sixinthesticks.
Grateful for your visit, Karin. I was talking with some people last night about how difficult it can be for me to prioritize, and I realize how helpful this framing is in cutting all that clutters. Thanks again for your words.
That’s very beautiful. I wonder how much we miss because we don’t stop to look – really look. Lord, give us ears to hear and eyes that really see.
Thank you for this.
Amen to these eyes and ears. Thank you, Helen.
Loved this! So well-written and I loved the photos. Very insightful post and so beautiful
Thank you, Ruth. Grateful to see you here.
Ashley, I find such wisdom in this piece! The image that arrests my attention most I think is that of the thumb and forefinger frames we form to focus our attention. (i love picturing the girls and you doing this!) And I so like what you said here – “The inside of these frames doesn’t tell the whole story…but they are no less true for only being part.” Sometimes it may even be that the frame identifies what is more true. i wonder if the impulse to place a frame around life, to move to outside its edges the things that don’t add to the composition (i.e., Life’s clutter) isnt a rightful longing…a hunger to live In life’s Essence.
Another thing I’m struck by here is illustrated in your beautiful photo of the framed garden peonies. The placement of a frame causes everything within its borders to assume more importance, to grow relatively larger. It seems a big Yes to me….yes This, exactly this.
Really wonderful Ashley! Thank you! xo!
As I’ve told you before, you’ve taught me so much about how to see through your photographer’s eye, your poet’s heart. I agree that the framing seems to reveal the hunger for knowing what truly matters, the essence. Yes, this right here. Thank you, Mama.
You frame a beautiful picture with your words, Ashley. The significance of a thing can get subsumed into the whole but “the small helps us make sense of the big” as you so rightly say. It made me think of our tiny yet still significant contribution as part of the body of Christ. Each section easily lost until we focus and zoom in to really see what is happening. Withered weed-like plants suddenly flourishing to become glorious garlands of His grace when watered by Holy Spirit rain. Thank you for this lovely framing of motherhood, art and life. xx
Thank you, Joy. I love the application you make here to the body. Such little contributions as to seem lost and yet partnering with the Life giver, part of something and Someone so much bigger than what lies inside the frame. Grateful for your presence here today.
I so relate with this slowing down and framing in.
The largeness and smallness.
Your post completely sums up how stumbling upon the art {and fining out i actually have a hidden talent for} photography has been such a blessing. God speaks and The Spirit prompts though the lens and pixels. The framing in,
Love that last picture and your quote…wish I thought of it!
Cheers
How thrilling to discover that hidden talent, Leah! I hope you are delighting in the framing in and the walk with the Spirit through your photography!
“I’ve felt overwhelmed by the world’s burdens and life’s largeness lately and have wanted to live hemmed in, something in me crying out for still small peace.” Yes! Me too, friend. I LOVE this post. Concrete words. Beautiful.
Dear Vickie, it does seem we’ve been living in similar spaces lately. Thankful to know I’m not alone. Much love and moments of sweet rest to you, friend.
Ash, you write with the focused, wonder-struck eye of a photographer – and I know that you are both, but I love how you frame such big concepts and bring them in smaller so we can see and appreciate them. You are a deep well, beautiful one.
Amber, I definitely am wonder struck and hope to grow in my ability to photograph some of what renders me struck. :-) But thank you, friend…it’s so good to slow and appreciate with you.
Hey beautiful. This–I don’t know what to say. You took the words right out of me. You leave me breathless, and hopeful and feeling like I might fly and wanting to be like you when I grow up. Also? I’d love for you to do a guest post for concrete words for me on the 10th of June. I’m taking regularly scheduled breaks now, w a guest post. Please email me if you’re interested, hon. xo.
Oh–highlighting this beauty on the blog today and on twitter! :)
Thank you for all your words of love and encouragement, Nacole. Looking forward to continuing writing the concrete with you and the community. xoxo