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Anna Cappadoro Bivona 1877 – 1976

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When Anna Cappadoro was born on November 30, 1877, in Sicilia, Italy, her father, Guglielmo, was 45, and her mother, Maria, was 44. She had seven sons and one daughter with Vincenzo (Vincent) Vincente Bivona between 1898 and 1918. She died on 10 July 1976 in Queens, New York, at the age of 98.

Anna is seated on the right side of this photo – date unknown. The magic wand on the caption means that I have made a digital enhancement to this photo.
I asked AI to take the above photo of Anna and restore it completely. I will wait for members of her family to let me know how well this photo edit worked and how realistic it is.This edit certainly helps to see the details of her lovely dress and her gold necklace. The smile is gorgeous!
The birth certificate for Anna. 26 Jul 1877. She was born in Custonaci which is a town and municipality located in the Trapani province of northwestern Sicily, Italy

I asked for AI for a translation of the birth certificate shown above:

Year 1877, on the 26th day of July, at the hour one after noon and minutes twenty,
in the Town Hall. Before me, Emanuele Occorso, Mayor and acting Civil Registrar
of the Municipality of Custonaci, appeared Cappadoro Luigi, 40 years old, stonecutter, domiciled in Custonaci, who declared to me that at the hour one after noon and minutes twenty, of the current day,in the house located on Via Salvo,
to Cappadoro Maria, his wife, housewife, living with him, a female child was born,
whom he presents to me and to whom he gives the name: Anna

The above declaration and presentation were made in the presence of the witnesses
Bascio Giuseppe, aged 40, stonecutter, and Casale Luigi, aged 30, bricklayer,
both residents of this municipality.

After this act was read to the declarant and the witnesses, they signed it with me.

Signed:
Emanuele Occorso, Civil Registrar

Wedding certificate for Anna. 27 Jul 1987 in Custonaci. Anna was 19 when she married. Her husband was 23 years old.

I used AI to translate this wedding document – see below:

Year 1897, on the 27th day of July, at the hour ten in the morning, in the Town Hall of Custonaci, open to the public. Before me, Dott. Luigi Quaranta, Mayor and acting Civil Registrar, vested in official form, there personally appeared:

Bivona Vincenzo Salvatore, unmarried, stonecutter, born in Gibellina,
resident in Gibellina, son of Giuseppe, resident in Gibellina,and of Giuseppa Foderà, resident in Gibellina; and Cappadoro Anna, unmarried, housewife, born in Custonaci,resident in Custonaci, daughter of the late Luigi, resident in Custonaci,
and of Accardi Maria, resident in Custonaci; who requested to be united in marriage.

For this purpose they presented the required documents, and from the examination of these, as well as of those already produced at the time of the marriage banns,
all bearing my approval and inserted in the volume of attachments to this register,
and finding no impediment to the celebration of their marriage, I read to the spouses the articles of the Civil Code concerning the rights and duties of husband and wife.

I then asked the groom whether he intended to take as wife the present Cappadoro Anna, and the bride whether she intended to take as husband the present Bivona Vincenzo Salvatore; each having answered affirmatively and mutually,
in the presence of the witnesses named below, I declared, in the name of the law, that they were united in marriage.

The witnesses present were: Coppola Giuseppe, 40 years old, laborer, and Di Carlo Domenico, 44 years old, farm worker,both residents of this municipality.

The documents presented were: certificates of birth, marriage banns published in this Civil Registry Office and in the Civil Registry Office of the Municipality of Gibellina,
and certificates showing that no impediment existed to the marriage. After this act was read aloud to those present, it was signed as follows.

Signatures:
Cappadoro Anna
Bivona Vincenzo Salvatore
Coppola Giuseppe
Di Carlo Domenico
Luigi Quaranta, Civil Registrar

According to my research, Anna’s two oldest children were born in Italy. They were Giuseppe “Joseph” Bivona 1898-1961 and Gugllielmo “William” Bivona 1900-1981.

Her next 5 children were born in Argentina. They were; Juan “John” Bivona 1902-1975, Francesco “Frank” Bivona 1904-1969 (the direct ancestor to my brother-in-law’s family), Vincent E Bivona Jr 1908-2001, Antonio (Anthony Tony) Bivona 1911-1998,

Her youngest was born in New York. Angelo Bivona 1918-1993.

It is interesting to note that both Anna’s father and her husband were stone cutters.

Anna became a naturalized citizen of the USA in 1945.

I have a previous blog that I have not updated but it should have a great deal of additional information about the life of Anna. https://tellinglifestories.org/2018/08/11/francesco-frank-bivona-1904-1969/

The Canarsie Courier – 15 Jul 1976.

Nicholas Knapp

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Nicholas Knapp was my 8th great grandfather. Here is how my family relates:

When Nicholas Knapp was born on May 16, 1592, in Wells-Next-To-The-Sea, Norfolk, England, his father, John, was 42 and his mother, Martha Blois (or Blosse), was 27. He married Eleanor (or Elinor) Disbrow Lockwood and they had 11 children together. He then married Unity Brown on January 9, 1659, in Stamford, Connecticut. He died on April 16, 1670, in Stamford, Connecticut, having lived a long life of 77 years, and was buried there.

In my other ancestry posts, I’ve shared that I grew up believing my heritage was predominantly German. As my genealogy research has deepened, I’ve discovered that this assumption isn’t quite accurate. In fact, a significant part of my ancestry is English, a realization that has both surprised me and opened up new avenues of learning. The more I explore my family history, the more I see how much there still is to understand.

I had to look up information about Wells-next-the-Sea where Nicholas was born. At the time of his birth, it was a small port town on the North Norfolk coast of England.

Fishing was crucial in 1592, with Wells-next-the-Sea known for crab, lobster, and herring. The port facilitated regional trade, exchanging fish and agricultural products for textiles and manufactured goods.

The town was a close-knit community with most residents involved in fishing or farming. Houses were typically built from local materials like flint and brick. Religion played a significant role, with the Anglican Church at the heart of social life.

On 6 April 1630, Nicholas (my 8th great grandfather) and wife Eleanor (my 8th great grandmother) left for America and traveled to Salem, MA.

Topographical dictionary of 2885 English Emigrants to New England 1620 to 1650

There, they were a part of the Massachusetts Bay Colony. He was one of the very early settlers of Watertown, MA. and Stamford, CT. His life in the colonies was one of living and working under the strict Puritan governance associated with John Winthrop and Richard Saltonstall.

Refugees of 1776 from Long Island to Connecticut

Nicholas appears multiple times in Massachusetts Bay court records. In one record, Nicholas was fined for pretending or claiming to cure scurvy by using a local water source that the court judged to have no medicinal worth. Oops!

His other legal woes included land disputes, fines, and behavioral or regulatory infractions. Specifically he engaged in, an unlicensed medical practice, misuse or promotion of land or water resources and making claims that could cause disorder or deception. As shocking as this may seem, it did not necessarily mean that he was a con man because early settlers experimented with remedies – I would love to see a movie about him!

He had enough of a standing not to be jailed but was fined.

Nicholas passed away on April 16, 1670, in Stamford, Connecticut.

Spring of 2020 – by Linda Claire Hess Groshans

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Spring of 2020 

The Spring of 2020 sprung full of sorrow and fear. In January of 2020, we had heard stories of a terrible virus. The virus was named Covid-19 because it had been discovered in the year 2019. This virus made the news by January, but it had not yet really changed our lives in the state of Michigan. But the clock was ticking, and the virus was ruthless. 

By March of 2020 there were the earliest signs of Spring but also the fear of a new life reality. The virus was now proclaimed to be a pandemic. It was here to stay for an unspecified time. I have always spent a lot of my time doing genealogy. I had studied a relative’s life who had died during the 1917/18 pandemic. I also knew that these pandemics appear around every 100 years. The horror of realizing that a pandemic would be a part of my life reality was devastating. I was more worried for my family than myself. But it was all a grave concern. I have several health conditions that put me at more risk for serious disease. One of those health concerns was obesity. I made choices to use the time of the pandemic as a time to rid myself of excess weight. I planned to walk daily. I walked off pound after pound. I walked miles every day either rain or shine.  

My fear level was high. I watched the news stories, and they were not good. Our nation was not prepared for this event. Our nation’s leader denied the science and denied the revered Dr. Fauci. I was in despair. My sense of terror was growing as my understanding of the implications to the future of humanity became more informed thru the science stories that I consumed by watching hours of TV news.  

On March 10, 2020 I went for a preparation shopping trip. I was going to shop like the preppers who plan for the end of the world. I wanted to buy enough to sustain myself for several months. You see at that time I still thought the pandemic would not last more than that. I did something that is hard to do when you live in a tiny house, I hoarded. I packed a grocery cart with over $300.00 worth of food, cleaning supplies, and paper products. I had big jumbo bags of rice, pounds of potatoes and cans of soup. I only have a tiny kitchen, so my closets had to become mini pantries. I had to use my laundry soap bottles as door stops, and a rather odd look began to emerge in my tiny dwelling. As I personally started to shed some weight, my tiny home suffered from an over stocking.  

The Governor of Michigan issued a “Stay Home and Stay Safe” proclamation in the spring of 2020. I decided then that I would wait out the pandemic in the safe bubble of my little house. I live alone, so this was an incredibly significant decision that began to change many of my priorities. I am a social creature, so this was foreign to me. 

One of the first good things that happened was the advent of Zoom meetings. I zoomed. I zoomed and zoomed. I zoomed with my family in Germany and in San Francisco. I zoomed with family in St. Louis Missouri, I zoomed with family in Atlanta Georgia and in Fargo North Dakota. Oddly enough, I was also zooming with family in Ann Arbor Michigan even though we lived just a few miles from each other.  

Still, during all the despair in the world, there was a change in our seasons. Spring finally was arriving by April and May of 2020. On my morning walks, I saw signs of crocus and other spring flowers. I spent a great deal of time engaging in my other hobby of photography and especially macro photography. I posted photos to my friends on social media. I posted photos on google maps and other places. 

I had many phone calls with friends. I also started a writing campaign to our state lawmakers. My social awareness had accelerated and there was clearly action to be taken. 

In May of 2020, I sadly realized that because of Covid and my isolation I would not be making my annual trip to the flower nursery. I adore flower gardens. I sat at my computer and ordered flower seeds on Amazon Prime. So strange. It was all so strange. I ordered zinnia seeds. By the end of summer in 2020, I had a new title in the neighborhood and on social media. I was now called the Zinnia Queen because my yard exploded with these flowers in every inch of soil available to them.  

By May of 2020, I was not sure how much longer I could endure. My weight was still going down. All the walking and gardening was good for me. I also am very called to be socially active. I became very disquieted by stories coming from meat packing plants across our country, especially Iowa. I saw the working conditions for employees of these plants where they worked in horrid conditions during this global pandemic. I made a choice to be fully vegan and then I lost still more weight.  

In the spring of 2020, I took a class on cartography and made a map. I made a map of a fantasy city/state land that showed my Covid-19 experiences. By this time, I also sadly had begun to hear stories of the souls who had perished. People who I had known. Life was fearful. And yet, in my morning walks, I studied and photographed flowers. I zoomed with friends. I stopped hoarding food when I realized how easy it was to order it on-line. I engaged in learning more about the issues of racial injustices. I put my efforts into joining writing campaigns and classes as I made not just a change in my weight but in my understanding of our culture and of white privilege. I yearned for change in politics, racial equality, economics, and a million other concerns. 

Looking back, the biggest thing that was happening was the change that I was undergoing. I was a socially conscious, active liberal, a vegan Zinnia Queen. I was more in love with my loved ones even though I was not able to share time in person with them. I met new people in on-line forums. Life was moving forward. The Spring was causing a metamorphosis.  

It is now approaching the spring of 2021. I just had my Covid 19 vaccine. I have more hope. I will forever be changed. This Spring, the lessons of 2020 will be very present as I prepare to finally step outside my tiny home and into the world. I still hope to keep my Zinnia Queen title. I yearn for healing. I yearn for all people to have the opportunity to be vaccinated. I know that I will leave this experience more aware, and thankfully still alive. I have sprung into a resolve to keep the lessons of the dark year we call 2020. 

520 North Main Street, Ann Arbor, MI

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I want to make sure that the family photos of 520 North Main Street, Ann Arbor, Michigan, are preserved. This family home holds an important place in the history of Ann Arbor, as it served not only as the home of my family line but also as a Main Street tourist home. It was also and always a home where love abounded!

My mother Gretchen Lois Ream with her Grandmother Amelia Grayer standing on the front porch of 520 N. Main Street, Ann Arbor. April 2, 1939. Grandma Grayer went by Amelia just like her daughter. Grandma Grayer’s given name was Emilie Louise Wisthoff Grayer (1861-1965 – immigrated from Germany)
My mother Gretchen Ream standing on the front porch steps of 520 N. Main Street, Ann Arbor, MI. Photo date estimated as 1939 or 1940.
My mother on the front porch of 520 N. Main Street, Ann Arbor, MI c1940
Gretchen Ream standing in front of 520 N. Main Street, Ann Arbor, MI in June of 1943
Gretchen Lois Ream standing on the front lawn of 520 N. Main Street, Ann Arbor, MI. c1943.
In the left photo, my mother is standing in the back yard of 520 N. Main Street, Ann Arbor, MI. The driveway to 520 N. Main was shared with the Klotz’s home next door to the North. It looks like the photo on the right side is of my mother standing in the front walkway to 520 N. Main Street, Ann Arbor, MI. c1943.

520 N. Main Street, Ann Arbor, was the home of my grandparents, Amelia and Grover Ream and their children Gretchen Ream (Hess) and Robert Emerson Ream. Also living there was my great grandmother Grandma Grayer.

The home was built in the mid 1920’s. As I understand it, my grandparents had lived at this address prior to that time in a smaller house. My grandfather, Grover Ream, was a highly skilled carpenter and a member of the Ann Arbor Carpenters’ Union. He played an integral role in the construction of many large buildings in Ann Arbor, including several fraternity houses on the University of Michigan campus.

Photo of Gretchen Lois Ream as an infant. My mother dated the photo as 4 Feb 1926 on the property for 520 N. Main Street, Ann Arbor, MI
My grandmother Amelia Ream with her children on the front porch steps at 520 N. Main Street, Ann Arbor, MI. c1930.
Robert Emerson Ream standing on the front steps of 520 N. Main Street, Ann Arbor, MI c1933
3 generations. Amelia Ream, Gretchen Ream and Amelia Grayer. 1939. On the porch of 520 N. Main Street, Ann Arbor, MI
4 generations of my family! Standing in front of the large garage in back of the house at 520 N. Main Street, Ann Arbor. 1954.

It is my belief that my grandfather planned and built this larger home on their property so that my grandmother would have a means of livelihood, knowing that his own health was fragile. He died of cancer in 1930, only a few years after the new home was completed.

If “location, location, location” defines a great home, this one was ideal. It is situated just a few blocks from downtown Ann Arbor’s shopping district, the Farmers Market, and the University of Michigan’s main campus.

The house is described as a three-story home with six bedrooms and one-and-a-half baths.

As I understand it, a tourist home was different from a boarding house. It was more akin to a modern-day Airbnb, offering short-term stays. The primary clientele were traveling salesmen (yes—men, as it would have been unheard of to host female guests) and visitors to the University of Michigan.

520 N. Main Street, Ann Arbor, MI
A photo of 520 N. Main Street looking across the street.

The home itself was quite large. Bedrooms on the second floor were rented out, likely for a daily fee and intended only for short-term guests. After my grandfather died, my great-grandmother and grandmother slept on the main floor, while my mother and uncle had their bedrooms on the third floor. (This is to the best of my memory and may be subject to dispute. My grandmother died just one day after my eleventh birthday.)

The house had a large, detached two-car garage with an attic space above it. The driveway was shared with the house next door on the north side, owned by our beloved friends, Madalyn and Edward Klotz.

Things I Remember About the House

The Garage
My grandmother did not own or drive a car, yet there was a very cool, old-fashioned automobile stored in her garage for someone else. Think old gangster cars—Bonnie and Clyde style. On rare occasions, we were allowed to climb onto the running boards and pretend we were headed off on great adventures.

The Living Room (19′ x 13′)
The living room sat just beyond the front hallway on the right as you entered the house. It had windows on two walls. Two large, side-by-side west-facing windows looked out toward the front porch, and two additional windows—one on each side of the fireplace—faced south.

The tiled fireplace was a focal point, though I don’t recall it ever being used. In one corner stood an old-fashioned television on a stand—the kind you turned on and waited for while it warmed up. It was black and white, but my grandmother placed colored film at the top and bottom of the screen so the sky could be blue and the grass green.

We often watched The Lawrence Welk Show together and danced while the Lennon Sisters performed. My grandmother had a soft, tall-backed armchair where she would hold us on her lap. There was also a sofa for guests and a freestanding corner shelf filled with collectible figurines—ones we were actually allowed to play with.

The Kitchen (13′ x 8′)
This is where the real magic happened. Grandma was a wonderful cook, and when we visited, she took our orders like a short-order chef. I loved her French fries, cooked in a deep fryer built right into the stove top. My sisters loved the noodles we called nifflies (otherwise known as spaetzle).

The back door was off the kitchen and opened onto a generously sized porch with steps leading down to the driveway. We were allowed to sit on those steps and eat watermelon slices—and since all watermelons had seeds back then, we were also allowed to spit them into the dirt driveway.

A pantry in the kitchen held the joke jar—a Mason jar filled with riddles Grandma cut out of the newspaper. Two side-by-side windows faced north toward the Klotz’s house.

The Hallway
The front hallway featured a wide wooden staircase with about twelve steps leading to a landing, where the stairs then turned and continued upward for another half flight. Halfway up was a lookout window.

The only telephone in the house sat on a small table in the hallway, paired with a simple straight-back chair. The front door was distinctive, with three small windowpanes arranged diagonally. A radiator stood near the door, as if to greet you with warmth as soon as you entered.

The Dining Room (14′ x 12′)
An arched opening connected the living room and dining room. Two standard-sized doors led from the dining room—one to Grandma’s bedroom and one to the kitchen. Three side-by-side south-facing windows filled the room with light.

A highboy held a candy dish on top. Grandma especially liked Neapolitan coconut candies from the dime store candy counter. Another tall cabinet displayed interesting curios, and a wall shelf held a collection of miniature pitchers.

We could all fit around the dining room table, though at one point I remember a daybed being squeezed into the space as well.

Grandma’s Bedroom (12′ x 10′)
Grandma’s bedroom held what I believe was a double bed and a nightstand. One window faced the garage, with a radiator beneath it, and another window was positioned above the bed.

When we spent the night, we were allowed to sleep beside her. Before falling asleep, we always listened as she recited the 23rd Psalm.

The Main-Floor Bathroom
This was a very small half bath—just a toilet and a pedestal sink. The floor was a distinctive black-and-white tile. A window sat above another radiator.

Despite having only a sink, this bathroom was used for bathing. Grandma went weekly to a hairdresser for shampooing and styling, and at home I learned how to bathe using a sink full of sudsy water and a washcloth. I think we called them “stand-up showers.”

The Basement
Because my grandmother lost much of her mobility due to a very aggressive form of arthritis, we rarely went up or down the stairs. When she did climb stairs, she had to use a crawling motion, placing her hands on the steps above her.

She must have lived with constant pain, yet she was always sweet and full of laughter.

The basement contained a large mangler and a coal storage area.

The Front Porch
These were the best seats in Ann Arbor for parades traveling south down North Main Street toward downtown. The porch was roomy and lined with wooden rocking chairs.

It was also the perfect place for Grandma to serve one of our favorite treats—purple cows: floats made with purple soda and vanilla ice cream. I was warned more than once that if I rocked too wildly, I would tip over.

I did.

Parades on North Main Street, Ann Arbor 1967
parade on North Main Street, Ann Arbor, MI 1968

The Second and Third Floors
The second floor held three bedrooms and one full bath, with bedrooms measuring approximately 14′ x 11′. The third floor had two bedrooms, each about 14′ x 13′. The second floor was for the tourist rooms and the third floor was the location for my mother’s and uncle’s bedrooms.

Family Pets

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I promised my father that I would continue to tell the stories of our family. One way I have tried to keep that promise is by preserving and sharing our family stories and legacy. I also simply enjoy looking back and remembering. In this blog, I reflect on some of the beloved pets who were part of our lives.

By exploring the animals our family has cared for, we are able to share happy and tender memories, funny anecdotes, and heartwarming moments. Each of these pets had a unique personality, and each became a meaningful part of our family’s story.

Whimpy was our first cat. This photo must have been taken at the back door of 1517 Harbrooke. Whimpy was free to roam outside.
Whimpy in an antique buggy at 1517 Harbrooke, Ann Arbor, MI
A beautiful photo of Mary Ann with Whimpy on the sofa at 2629 Danbury Lane.
Mutti was our second family cat. Her name was fitting because she was a mother to a quite a few kittens. Her kittens were either all black or all white.
Mutti with some of her kittens.

The Groshans got a black kitty and named her Valkyrie. This photo looks was taken at our apartment on Bemidji in Ann Arbor.

Check out the fun kitty toy and our old TV set! I’m not even sure what type of beverage Jack in enjoying?!

Amy pets Valkyrie – photo approx. Nov 1981

Amy, Valkyrie and a bottle on the sofa. The stuffed animal dog was a gift from Grandma and Grandpa. Later, this stuffed animal would no longer stand up after he was used as a sort of riding toy. LOL

Ruh-Roh! Valkyrie is on the desk. Photo taken at 609 S. 1st Street.

Love that slipped away. Email from 28 Mar 2010 to EKB

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dearest ernest,


I know that quite some time ago you slipped away from me.  I know you still love me, but the distance was there and growing.  Lately,  I have had the more disturbing feeling that I am now slipping away too.  I have had a few quiet moments this evening to ponder this.  Moving forward, starting new chapters, all comes with a price.  I am moving forward, but the price is sad.  I seem to have a memory playing through my mind today and it is of two best friends and soul mates who delighted in each other and the world they lived in. We laughed, loved, memorized every detail and held hands till the dark. We played. We laughed. We cried and we held hands. Those were the moments of my life.
I know that is going away and I do not totally understand why. I used to see something spectacular and want to share it with you.  Now, my thoughts travel somewhere else.  Is this what happens?  Does love fade?  Has this already been what you accepted?  Did you find a replacement?  Why could something so wonderful, so spectacular, so divine be going away from me?
I know that I always felt deserving of love and that love does present itself again in the universe.  I am not unhappy with a new love, just finding it so difficult to wonder how a love as great as ours slipped through my fingers. As I move forward, I am fully present in the knowledge of all I learned from you.  Were you in my life to teach me how to accept great love?  Were you there to teach me how to find joy in the journey?   Were you in my life to teach me how to be loved and accept love more fully?   It is so goofy… I always thought so much of myself that I thought I was there for you.  Now, I am humbled and know that you were there for me.  Thank you. I am on the journey…moving forward…

It is like my life journey had a seat next to me on a train.  I guess – the part that surprises me is that I thought we would sit together for the end of the ride.

My dream – 01/25/2019

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Dream:
I had a dream that EKB was standing at my front door. I knew he was supposed to be dead, yet there he was, alive and knocking. The weight of disbelief hit me as I opened the door. I told him how heartbroken I had been, how many hours I spent crying, mourning, and saying my farewells. I admitted that I’d even confided in my lawyer, questioning whether his death had been a lie — or perhaps, orchestrated for reasons I couldn’t understand.

EKB, with a tired and fragile look, explained softly that he “had to do that”—pretend to be dead. The exhaustion was clear on his face as he sank onto a nearby surface, gazing up at me. He spoke in a low voice, revealing that his death had been a ruse, part of a larger, dangerous situation he had no choice but to escape.

I turned to go back into the condo, trying to process the surreal encounter, but when I entered the kitchen, EKB was suddenly there with me. Without warning, he opened a massive barn-sized door—one I had never noticed before, hidden in the back of the kitchen. It led into a cavernous room, one so vast it could have housed four garages. Inside, the room was filled with odds and ends: old furniture, janitor sinks, forgotten relics from neighbors’ condos. And then, I noticed something strange—a square area, completely empty.

I stepped inside, a feeling of awe washing over me as I realized the space was mine. It felt like an undiscovered treasure, a room I had never known existed. As I moved my eyes across the cluttered space, I saw other people, their figures distant and blurry—some were moving things around, others casually strolling with baby carriages. Despite the chaos, I felt a profound sense of joy and amazement. How could I have missed this all this time? It was as if a hidden part of my life had just been revealed.

But EKB, still visibly drained, tried to lay down on a small, uncomfortable piece of furniture. I offered him my bedroom, but he was too weary to stand or even make it up the stairs.

At some point, I glanced out the window. There, in the shared driveway below, a strange scene unfolded. On the opposite side of the drive, children’s riding toys were scattered about, and it looked like a garage sale was set up, a jumble of items waiting to be sold. I told EKB we should go outside. Slowly, he dragged himself up the outside stairs with his hands, each movement a struggle.

When he reached the top, I noticed his legs—swollen, bloated, and painful. His feet looked the same, as though the weight of his suffering had seeped into his very body. I told him, my voice filled with concern, that this wasn’t good. With great effort, I reached out, pulling him upright, my arms straining to lift him. But then, something magical happened.

In an instant, we were dancing, as if the very air had shifted around us. EKB’s strong arms enveloped me, lifting me off the ground, and together we danced among flowers that seemed to bloom from nowhere. The world around us was vibrant with color, flowers cascading in every direction, filling the air with their fragrance. I felt weightless, suspended in his arms, lost in the pure joy of the moment. I pointed out each flower, naming them for him, as if they too were part of this fleeting dream.

There were arbors draped with blossoms, arches overhead that seemed to stretch into infinity. We moved effortlessly, the rhythm of the dance carrying us through a landscape of beauty and peace. In that moment, I was free, surrounded by love and the sheer beauty of the world. But as quickly as it had come, the magic disappeared, and EKB was gone.

The Moon – a short story by Linda Claire

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The summer night sky was sparkled with stars and a bright full moon. The little girl was seated in the backseat of her grandfather’s Chevy station wagon as they traveled the dirt roads towards his home. It was special for her to be out this late and it made her feel almost like an 8-year-old instead of the mere 7-year-old she was. 

“Grandpa, I think the moon is following our car.” She made the declaration with great and serious consideration. 

“Hmm,” he replied and then continued, “What makes you think that the moon is following us?” 

She became more animated. “So, every time you make a turn in the road, I can still see the moon right there. It has to be following us otherwise we wouldn’t be able to see it when we turned those corners.” And when she explained this to her grandfather, she felt even a wee bit older still. 

The old man adjusted the rear-view mirror a bit to glimpse his lovely granddaughter. He felt again the joy of grand parenting. He loved being let into her innocent childish thoughts, so he replied to her comment with a challenge. “Should we take the long way home and make a lot of turns and really check out your theory?” 

“Oh yes Grandpa” she was thrilled. 

The old man veered about and made many turns so his beloved granddaughter could continue to test her moon theory. 

“Grandpa, it’s working. It is still following our car.” She exclaimed and then asked, “Do you think there is a man in the moon, Grandpa?” 

“Well, I don’t know about that. What I can tell you is that the moon has always been a good friend to me. I call this friend Luna. And, I think Luna can be your friend too.” 

“Luna” she said the word with some reverence, and she was delighted to know that the moon could be her friend. “Grandpa, does Luna ever talk to you?” 

He gave a serious reply, “Oh, not in the usual way. But Luna does listen, and she sends a light out for our path. In fact, when I was in the great war, I talked to Luna right above the decks of our Navy cruiser right in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean.” 

“Oh Wow!” she exclaimed and again thought to herself what a super grandfather she had. She had seen the pictures of him in his sailor’s uniform and remembered the impressive photos with the big machine gun ports. She would have to remember to ask him to show her the photos again. 

The Chevy station wagon neared the old man’s home. 

“Grandpa look your house is right here and Luna followed us the whole way. She even got here a little ahead of us.” 

Once they were in the driveway, he waited for her to get out of the car and then he took her small hand in his. The moon was indeed bright this evening. The breezes were warm. 

“Grandpa, can we just look at Luna for a while?” she implored. 

“Pumpkin let us do something else. OK?” he replied. 

“What, what else should we do Grandpa? Should we talk to Luna?” she wanted to know. 

“Nope, turn around and let Luna be at your back.” He answered. 

“Grandpa, that is funny. You are the one who told me we don’t have eyes in the back of our heads.” And again, she felt quite mature. 

“Look.” he said. “Look at the tops of the pines. Do you see it? The moon beams fall right along the tops of each pine. Look all around you and carefully. Can you see Luna shining on any other objects that we usually do not pay much attention to in the light of day? This is what it means to see things in a different light. It really is one of the best lessons Luna taught me.” 

“I do see it, I do!” she replied. She had noticed the roof of his home and the brick chimney lit by the moonlight. She noticed some gray clouds and different shadows. And then she told her grandfather the words he loved the most. “I love you so big.” When she said it, she held out her little arms wide to each side. 

“I love you to the Moon and back” he told her. 

“Grandpa, did you mean you love me to the Luna and back?” Then she smiled broadly, and the old man could barely hold all the love he had in his heart. 

A story that tells why I am here… 

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A story that tells why I am here… 

My brilliant father told stories. He was a scientist who founded a large research facility for the University, and he was a scientific advisor at the Pentagon. Yet, he was also a man who told me that an elf might be apt to carry a briefcase while walking in his woodland home. 

Because I had such a magical introduction to the world of stories, I became fascinated with telling my own tales. My stories have frequently been about such important topics as squirrel detectives or pirates feeling ill at ease in proper society. 

I bring that joy of stories told to me in early childhood to my adult life. I write new stories in my mind. I usually practice telling a story many times before I tell it. I do not always write the story down. I use my voice to help become different characters in the story. I like stories with mishaps and several fumbles by the well-meaning characters. 

My fan club includes my grandson in Germany. He frequently likes the same story told to him repeatedly. He corrects me if I forget mention of a certain event in the story and helps me write the story as it is being told. I have also done story telling circles for adult crowds while trying to engage them in telling me something too. 

I am a genealogist. I have my own website and blog written stories on the lives of my ancestors or other folks that I have researched for my friends. Even in my historical blogs, I like to find out something beyond a list of dates. A blog might start like this: “She was 10 years old when she arrived in America…” 

I am always excited to receive comments, a new idea, or any feedback that makes the story breathe itself into one that can be told and retold. 

MY LECTURE ON PHOTOGRAPHY

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PHOTOGRAPHY 

Is it just a snapshot or could it be a path to a deeper vision? Do photographs tell stories? Have you ever been inspired by a photograph? Is there really something called contemplative photography? Can photographs help us meditate on mysteries? 

Join Claire, on Sunday, October 2nd, as she speaks about how photography helped her reframe her perspective and showed her a path of discovery. Time permitting…you may tell us about a special photograph that has offered you inspiration and made you pause in thanks. 

Claire is an amateur photographer  

I would like to invite all of you to come on an imaginary journey with me.  

Oh, you might wonder, where will we be going?  

The short answer we are going to go on a trip that is not made up not of miles, but of photographs. 

Huh? 

Say what? 

Yes, you heard me right. I said we are going on a journey of and into photography.  

My path into photography all started because I was sooo bored. 

And worse than that, I didn’t have money to spend on expensive answers to boredom.   

We don’t often think of boredom as a gift but let me tell you that it might not be fun, but sometimes boredom can be a big motivator. For instance, when my students would complain that they were bored in class, I would tell them “That is a wonderful thing.” and I would clap my hands in delight. I would explain that was when we might begin to think of ways to engage in something new. 

So, as I was saying, I was bored. I was so bored that I looked through the Ann Arbor Observer’s calendar of upcoming events for the summer of 1997. I mentioned before that I did not have much money as a single mom…well, that meant I was looking for free events.  I found one that would fit into my schedule. It was a lecture on macro photography at Big George’s appliance store in Ann Arbor.  

Ok. I liked photography. I marked the event on my calendar. Oh…did I know what macro photography was? No. Not at all, but it was a free event, it would be interesting, and I might meet some new folks. 

There are moments that you do not realize -at the time you are in them- that they will be pivotal. You might not connect dots to that thought until a few years down the road.  

The speaker explained that Macro Photography is taking a photo of something small and making it the subject of your photo. Think ladybug, dew drops, a blade of grass…you get the gist. Think about viewing the world by just one square foot or inch at a time. The world just got bigger…right? 

No surprise, the speaker then told us what we could buy at the store -a macro photo lens. They were expensive. I wasn’t about to use all of my savings until…until…until…the speaker said that if you started taking macro photos your own backyard would in a sense be as big as the entire Detroit Zoo in terms of how many sights you would be able to see through your lens.  

I didn’t have the money just then to buy the macro lens, but I saved and saved and finally I did buy it and no regrets. I did find that my back yard was huge now and the botanical gardens were like a whole big universe for discovery. I got good…maybe not excellent…but very good at taking macro nature photos. 

Over the years, I put away the macro lens and just started taking photos with my cell phone or a point and shoot digital camera. 

I had figured out by now that all of the photos were offering me unique perspectives on myself and the world. When I looked over the photos I had taken, I started to meditate on the mysteries and beauty of my surroundings. 

#19  

#1 – The smile and take a photo with your hands/ mind 

  Good morning. Well, this is a talk on photography and photos, so I encourage anyone who is so inclined to SMILE.  

This talk is not going to be about the details of photography, even though that does sound interesting to me.  

A generous portion of the talk this morning will be about using photography as a way of seeing gifts along the way of life.  

To help us, let’s play a game now. I would ask those who would like to participate to either hold up an imaginary camera or simply take a photo using your mind and power of memory.  

In a minute, we will all take a photo at the same time as each other. When you are finished taking your imaginary photo, pause for a moment in gratitude. You might even bow to your subject, outwardly or inwardly. Bless it –bless the thing that captured your attention and gave you pause.  

Let’s hold up our mind cameras whether you are here in person or on Zoom or Facebook. Find something in your surroundings to frame in your pretend lens for a pretend photo.  

Your new shoes, the art on the wall, your friends or family, your view from the window. I promise playing make believe can be quite entertaining.  

We only have a minute for this experiment, I will start by taking a photo my photo first. Smile, I am pointing my camera at all of you to help me remember in my mind this day. So smile, and let’s go! Now, your turn. Go ahead take a photo NOW and have fun. 

What did you take a photograph of? You can all say it out loud at the same time if you feel inclined. Let’s go… 

Wonderful. And now is a good time to ask you for a favor. At the end of today’s talk, I would like to make a change in format. Instead of giving me feedback on my talk, I would like to ask anyone who is inclined to tell us about any photo from their life that is extremely memorable. Just a few brief words about a photo you own or that you have taken. A photo of a loved one, the family portrait, a nature photograph, a cityscape photo, a photo of your car, your kitten, or your hobby. Just start thinking about a photo that your mind has archived and saved as being meaningful. 

Before I get too much further along in this morning’s talk, I am going to tell you about how I became interested in photography.  

                     Boredom/ No money/ My Big George’s story 

Part 2: 

So many people are taking photos every day. We see photos every day.  

So, why would something this common be important to me?  

Why might it be important to you? 

Maybe the answer is that for some people, that this common practice of taking photos actually has helped them connect with others, with the flora and fauna on the path they take, of a divine presence when they pause to take a photo of the heron lifting to flight, or when they study the love seen on the faces of their loved ones.  

Maybe there is something that is spiritual in this practice? 

Part 3:  

In our Friday zoom social hour, I asked everyone what they thought about me giving you some pop quiz during my talk. The incredibly fun and witty Al told me he thought that would be fine. I liked that answer.  

The quiz is only for your benefit.  Your answers will not be graded, spoken aloud, or even shared.  

I am simply going to ask you guided questions so that as a team we will lay the groundwork together for coming to the point of this morning’s talk. My hope is that each question will help you access your photo memories and how they have guided you. 

My idea is that we each have different answers and that is part of what I hope to express this morning.  

We have different answers.  

I have personally asked myself all these questions while doing my junk journaling so it was easy for me to write them down. 

I will go through the thought provoking questions quickly because I have so many questions to ask. Let your mind just drift where it may as you try to think about answers that work for you. 

#1) Can you think of a photograph that you have viewed with utter amazement?  

Have you felt elated when you find a bird’s nest or a wildflower that you can photograph?  

Have you marveled at a photo in National Geographic or a photo taken by a family member or friend? 

#2) In life, we sometimes must reframe our thinking. As a photographer, you must choose the subject of our photo and frame it for the lens.  

Have you ever taken the time before pushing the shutter button to think about what the photo will look like? About what story you want the photo to tell? 

#3) Have you ever slowed down to take a photo?  

Have you ever fallen behind the rest of the group because you wanted to capture a particular photo?  

Is there a lesson in slowing down- pausing- and truly focusing in on the moment?  

Also, have you ever knelt down in order to better take a photo of your subject?  

#4) Did you ever see a photograph that you wanted to share with someone else because it was so inspiring or uplifting?  

The sunrise over the river, the railroad tracks at dawn, the newborn baby, the goofy look on your dog’s face?  

Have you sent or posted a photo because you wanted to share with others that joy and feeling of being uplifted?  

Have you ever longed for a way to say thank you?  

Did you photo document a vacation so you could share your experiences with others. Have you photographed your plate with a sumptuous dinner? 

#5) Did you ever use a photo to help you contemplate or meditate? What comes to mind? A lotus blossom, a rainbow, a waterfall, a snowflake, your cup of hot tea? The cover of a good book you are reading? 

#6) When you study a meaningful photo, can you view the world through the eyes of the divine and see the extra-ordinary in the ordinary?  

Has viewing photography helped you fall more in love with creation?  

Have you ever made a simple walk into your big adventure because you have a camera?  

Have you ever thought that what you are doing right now is enough?  

Do you believe that with no photographic training but just by taking photos you can be a mystic? 

#7) Do you want to be a seeker? Do you want to learn and discover? 

 Has photography helped you do that and how?  

How has looking at photographs that were shared with you by others helped you catch a glimpse into what inspires and drives the person who took the photo? Like, why am did Tom post 17 photos with views of his kayak trip up north? 

#8) Has a photograph ever called you to action?  

How did seeing a photo of an injustice help you move to visioning yourself trying to be a part of the solution? 

Have you experienced tremendous compassion when looking at a photograph? Have you ever cried for mercy or help because of a photograph? 

#9) Have you ever stopped to caption one of your photos?  

Did it make you feel clever or humorous?  

Did you think your words added to your photos?  

Would words alone really express the entire story of the photo?   

If I captioned a picture of a solitary tree in a field using the words “Standing sentry” would that be a new way for you to see that tree? 

What if a photo of tree was captioned: Artist: God. 

#10) Do you think it possible that a photo can stretch your imagination?  

What do you think about as you stare lovingly into photographs of your dear ones? 

#11) Do you think that you would only feel spiritual inspiration by looking at or taking purely religious photos? Stained glass windows? Monks praying? A sanctuary or temple? Or…do you think you could find spiritual inspiration just as easily in the photo of an unusual cloud or a photo of the trail you are hiking? 

#12) Can taking a photo help the photographer see things in a new way? Do the lines on the leaf look like a tiny aerial map of streets?  

#13) Do you think that a photographer is only trying to get noticed by other people? Or could you believe that a photographer is trying to help tell the story of others?  

#14) Do you think you can almost feel the energy flowing from certain photographs?  

Does the world entertain you? 

#15) Can photography be a way to express our artistic natures? 

#16) Could a photographer potentially see something mysterious in the tiny world of macro photography? And could a photograph like that touch someone deeply in amazement? 

#17 Are you an outliner or a detailer? Are you both? Outliners might look at the general focus whereas detailers look at the details. 

#18) Did you ever want to make your garden last through the summer and decided the best way to do that was to photograph it? Before you recycled your children’s artwork have you ever photographed it? Are photographs some of the most precious keepsakes we can own? 

Part 4- My top 14 conclusions 

That was quite a list of questions and I hope that they helped you start to think about all the ways that photography and the visual arts can build a strong connection between you and the world and bolster your spiritual nature. 

I hope your unspoken answers have begun to form the basis of this very talk. In my teaser about what today’s talk would be about, I wrote that photographs could help us meditate on mysteries. Probably your own answers to my questions would affirm that. 

When writing my description of what this talk that was to be used on our website as a description, I wrote and I quote: Is it just a snapshot or could it be a path to a deeper vision? Do photographs tell stories? Have you ever been inspired by a photograph? Is there really something called contemplative photography? 

I think that we might be arriving at the answer being YES to those questions. And, I think there are many who will, upon reflection, state that indeed photography can be contemplative or meditative. 

Now, I am going to share some of my observations about this topic so that you can see why there is so much that photography has offered me and can offer to all of us.  

#1) People often say that beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Guess what? We are the beholders! Knowing that I am the beholder empowers me to find beauty in many places and ways.  

Also, I understand that nature is perfect at being sometimes imperfect and I let that message speak to me as I allow myself to accept my perceived flaws and imperfections more gracefully. 

#2) I am a planner. I plan everything and I always make daily assignments for myself. Photography is helping me learn that I do not always need to plan. I can let there be surprises. 

 I am learning that each moment is unrepeatable. I have learned that the world is full of magical things. I have learned to stop and just say out loud, “oh” when I see the sun rise over the river. 

#3) I honor that the vision is mine when I decide to take a photo. It is not my sister’s, my friend’s, but my vision and other people can see that.  

How very humbling and beautiful. This most humbling of all thoughts came to me one day…that in all things of nature there is also something of me. 

#4) I have learned to see things with fresh eyes. I pretend sometimes that the rose I am looking at is the 1st one I have ever seen. This practice takes me to a great calm and a memory of my curious self. 

#5) One of the ways photography is meditative is because I am pausing to let quiet thoughts and reflections flow through me. It is a gift of love to anyone who wishes to receive it. 

#6) It is a way for us to practice the art of paying attention to our now. 

#7) I believe that sharing our photos is a way to be generous. I think that photography has helped me understand that the little things are not little. 

#8) We ask folks to smile for their photo. I believe that is because we all profit from those smiles! They are a type of peace offering. 

#9) Sometimes my photo is pretty bad…if you are a perfectionist, this can be very troubling until you think about another gift that taking a lot of photos teaches you. That you can laugh. You can belly laugh at the selfie with the double chin on view or the photo of your dog that looks like just a blurred smear of motion or their nose pressed against the camera lens. You can laugh!  

Trust me, my worst photos crack me up! I took a photo at Matthei Botanical Gardens while on a walk with my friend Heidi. The photo ended up being just a motion blurred picture of the path. I love this poorly captured photo because what I was getting close to that my friend Heidi saved me from was bending down to better photograph what turned out to be a rattlesnake. 

#10) Photography can be healing or help us with our tender egos. Story of Oprah. 

#11) Connect with your younger self’s limitless imagination – ask a million questions. 

#12) Own your own paths to creativity – Creativity is not the lottery that someone else one. We all can use our powers of creativity. 

#13) Ann Patchett: “Never be so focused on you’re looking for that you overlook the thing you actually find.” 

#14) I have learned that the past cannot be different, but we can learn how to find acceptance and move on. That wherever we are is our entry point to today, now and tomorrow. 

#15) My photographs also collect moments of dreams and discovery. They give me a chance to give a great big embrace to all that I see. 

Part 5- The end of my talk 

Every picture tells a story. I hope that some of the questions I asked you today and some of my conclusions about photography have helped you want to tell more stories. I hope it makes you want to breathe in life with reverence. 

Some people tell me they are not creative and so photography isn’t an interest to them. I hope that someday we stop looking at creativity as a lottery that someone else won. I hope everyone can see by nature we are creative. (My humble opinion) 

I honor that so much joy in my life has come from the visual arts. From studying paintings, illustrations, and yes…photographs. In fact, I have experienced so much joy from art that I feel like it is worthy of a grand party! A joy party! And, the thing about joy is that it often comes as a complete surprise. So, in closing, let me just say…. I am glad we are planning a big anniversary party at the Interfaith Center. What a lovely thing to do! 

I believe that looking at photos, sharing photos and taking photos can help us along a path to love. They are a way to say stop and rest here in this beauty that surrounds me. They are a reminder to be curious enough to notice that the divine is here…or for those who are atheists a time to just see goodness. 

When I am actively looking and noticing things along my life path, I become more receptive to each moment. I become more still inside. I notice. I take my time. Then I take a photo.  

Some things in life are so mundane…think chopping carrots here. By opening our senses, we can see the sacred beauty of the mundane. Just an old leaf, the petunia growing up in the crack of the sidewalk. Any simple thing becomes something to stop and savor. 

When you look at a photo or take a photo. I encourage you to do this practice in gratitude. Perhaps you might want to talk to your subject and bow to the tree with the gnarled bark while you mouth the words thank you. Bless the things of our photos and then continue our day while noticing all the while. 

I encourage you to feel inspired and to find a way that your photo can tell why something or someone captured your attention. 

They say a picture is worth a thousand words – I think it is many more words than that. 

And so it is! 

PHOTOGRAPHY 

Is it just a snapshot or could it be a path to a deeper vision? Do photographs tell stories? Have you ever been inspired by a photograph? Is there really something called contemplative photography? Can photographs help us meditate on mysteries? 

Join Claire, on Sunday, October 2nd, as she speaks about how photography helped her reframe her perspective and showed her a path of discovery. Time permitting…you may tell us about a special photograph that has offered you inspiration and made you pause in thanks. 

Claire is an amateur photographer  

I would like to invite all of you to come on an imaginary journey with me.  

Oh, you might wonder, where will we be going?  

The short answer we are going to go on a trip that is not made up not of miles, but of photographs. 

Huh? 

Say what? 

Yes, you heard me right. I said we are going on a journey of and into photography.  

My path into photography all started because I was sooo bored. 

And worse than that, I didn’t have money to spend on expensive answers to boredom.   

We don’t often think of boredom as a gift but let me tell you that it might not be fun, but sometimes boredom can be a big motivator. For instance, when my students would complain that they were bored in class, I would tell them “That is a wonderful thing.” and I would clap my hands in delight. I would explain that was when we might begin to think of ways to engage in something new. 

So, as I was saying, I was bored. I was so bored that I looked through the Ann Arbor Observer’s calendar of upcoming events for the summer of 1997. I mentioned before that I did not have much money as a single mom…well, that meant I was looking for free events.  I found one that would fit into my schedule. It was a lecture on macro photography at Big George’s appliance store in Ann Arbor.  

Ok. I liked photography. I marked the event on my calendar. Oh…did I know what macro photography was? No. Not at all, but it was a free event, it would be interesting, and I might meet some new folks. 

There are moments that you do not realize -at the time you are in them- that they will be pivotal. You might not connect dots to that thought until a few years down the road.  

The speaker explained that Macro Photography is taking a photo of something small and making it the subject of your photo. Think ladybug, dew drops, a blade of grass…you get the gist. Think about viewing the world by just one square foot or inch at a time. The world just got bigger…right? 

No surprise, the speaker then told us what we could buy at the store -a macro photo lens. They were expensive. I wasn’t about to use all of my savings until…until…until…the speaker said that if you started taking macro photos your own backyard would in a sense be as big as the entire Detroit Zoo in terms of how many sights you would be able to see through your lens.  

I didn’t have the money just then to buy the macro lens, but I saved and saved and finally I did buy it and no regrets. I did find that my back yard was huge now and the botanical gardens were like a whole big universe for discovery. I got good…maybe not excellent…but very good at taking macro nature photos. 

Over the years, I put away the macro lens and just started taking photos with my cell phone or a point and shoot digital camera. 

I had figured out by now that all of the photos were offering me unique perspectives on myself and the world. When I looked over the photos I had taken, I started to meditate on the mysteries and beauty of my surroundings. 

#19  

#1 – The smile and take a photo with your hands/ mind 

  Good morning. Well, this is a talk on photography and photos, so I encourage anyone who is so inclined to SMILE.  

This talk is not going to be about the details of photography, even though that does sound interesting to me.  

A generous portion of the talk this morning will be about using photography as a way of seeing gifts along the way of life.  

To help us, let’s play a game now. Even though most of us have real cameras with us right now on our cell phones, I would ask those who would like to participate to either hold up an imaginary camera or simply take a photo using your mind.  

I am asking us all to take a photo at the same time as each other. When you are finished, pause again in gratitude. You might bow to your subject, outwardly or inwardly. Bless it –bless the thing that captured your attention and gave you pause. How? 

Let’s hold up our mind cameras whether you are here in person or on Zoom or Facebook. Find something in your surroundings to frame for a pretend photo. Your new shoes, the art on the wall, your friends or family, your view from the window. Go ahead and have fun. I promise playing make believe can be quite entertaining.  

We only have a minute for this experiment, I will start by taking a photo of something I want to remember about today. I am going to take a photo with my pretend camera of you! So smile, and let’s go! Now, your turn. 

What did you take a photograph of? You can all say it out loud at the same time if you feel inclined. Let’s go… 

Wonderful. And now is a good time to ask you for a favor. At the end of today’s talk, instead of giving me feedback on my talk, I would like to ask anyone who is inclined to tell us about any photo from their life that is extremely memorable. Just a few brief words about a photo you own or that you have taken. A photo of a loved one, the family portrait, a nature photograph, a cityscape photo, a photo of your car or your hobby. Just start thinking about a photo that your mind has archived and saved as being meaningful. 

Before I get too much further along in this morning’s talk, I am going to tell you about how I became interested in photography.  

                     Boredom/ No money/ My Big George’s story 

Part 2: 

So many people are taking photos every day. We see photos every day. So, why would something this common be important to me? Why might it be important to you? 

Maybe the answer is that for some people, that this common practice of taking photos actually has helped them connect with others, with the flora and fauna on the path they take, of a divine presence when they pause to take a photo of the heron lifting to flight, or when they study the love seen on the faces of their loved ones. Maybe there is something that is spiritual in this practice? 

Part 3:  

In our Friday zoom social hour, I asked everyone what they thought about me giving you some pop quiz during my talk. The incredibly fun and witty Al told me he thought it would be fine. I liked that answer. The quiz is only for your benefit.  Your answers will not be graded, spoken aloud, or even shared. I am simply going to ask you questions so we can do team work to help come to the point of this morning’s talk. I have personally asked myself all these questions so it was easy for me to write them down. 

I will go through the thought provoking questions quickly because I have so many questions to ask. Let your mind just drift where it may as you try to think about answers that work for you. 

#1) Can you think of a photograph that you have viewed with utter amazement? Have you felt elated when you find a bird’s nest or a wildflower to photograph? Have you marveled at a photo in National Geographic? 

#2) In life, we sometimes must reframe our thinking. Taking a photo helps us to learn what we want the to be the subject of our photo. Have you ever taken the time before pushing the shutter button to think about what the photo will look like? 

#3) Have you ever slowed down to take a photo? Have you ever fallen behind the rest of the group because you wanted to capture a particular photo? Is there a lesson in slowing down- pausing- and truly focusing in on the moment? Also, have you ever knelt down in order to better take a photo of your subject?  

#4) Did you ever see a photograph that you wanted to share with someone else because it was so inspiring or uplifting? The sunrise over the river, the railroad tracks at dawn, the newborn baby, the goofy look on your dog’s face? Have you sent or posted a photo because you wanted to share with others that joy and feeling of being uplifted? Have you ever longed for a way to say thank you? Did you photo document a vacation so you could share your experiences with others. Have you photographed your plate with a sumptuous dinner? 

#5) Did you ever use a photo to help you contemplate or meditate? What comes to mind? A lotus blossom, a rainbow, a waterfall, a snowflake, your cup of hot tea? The good book you are reading? 

#6) When you study a meaningful photo, can you view the world through the eyes of the divine and see the extra-ordinary in the ordinary? Have you fallen more in love with creation? Have you ever made a simple walk into your big adventure? Have you ever thought that what you are doing right now is enough? Do you believe that with no photographic training but just by taking photos you can be a mystic? 

#7) Do you want to be a seeker? Do you want to learn and discover? Has photography helped you do that and how? Has looking at photographs that were shared with you by others have you caught a glimpse into what inspires and drives them? 

#8) Has a photograph ever called you to action? How did seeing a photo of an injustice help you move to visioning yourself trying to be a part of the solution? 

#9) Have you ever stopped to caption one of your photos? Did it make you feel clever or humorous? Did you think your words added to your photos? Would your words alone really express the entire story of the photo?  If I captioned a solitary tree in a field using the words “Standing sentry” would that be a new way for you to actually see that tree? 

#10) Do you think it possible that a photo can stretch your imagination? What do you think about as you stare lovingly into photographs of your dear ones? 

#11) Do you think that you would only feel spiritual inspiration by purely religious photos? Stained glass windows? Monks praying? A sanctuary or temple? Or…do you think you could find inspiration in the photo of an unusual cloud or a photo of the trail you are hiking? 

#12) Can taking a photo help the photographer see things in a new way? Do the lines on the leaf look like a tiny aerial map of streets?  

#13) Do you think that a photographer is only trying to get noticed by other people? Or could you believe that a photographer is trying to help tell the story of others?  

#14) Do you think you can almost feel the energy flowing from certain photographs? Does the world entertain you? 

#15) Can photography be a way to express our artistic natures? 

#16) Could a photographer potentially see something mysterious in the tiny world of macro photography? And could a photograph like that touch someone deeply in amazement? 

#17 Are you an outliner or a detailer? Are you both? Outliners might look at the general focus whereas detailers look at the details. 

#18) Did you ever want to make your garden last through the summer and decided the best way to do that was to photograph it? Before you recycled your children’s artwork have you ever photographed it? Are photographs some of the most precious keepsakes we can own? 

#19)  

Part 4- My top 14 conclusions 

That was quite a list of questions and I hope that they helped you start to think about all the ways that photography and the visual arts can build a strong connection between you and the world and bolster your spiritual nature.  

Now, I am going to share some of my observations about this topic so that you can see why there is so much that photography has offered me and can offer to all of us.  

#1) People often say that beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Guess what? We are the beholders! Knowing that I am the beholder empowers me to find beauty in many places and ways. Also, I understand that nature is perfect at being sometimes imperfect and I let that message speak to me as I allow myself to accept my perceived flaws and imperfections more gracefully. 

#2) I am a planner. I plan everything and I always make daily assignments for myself. Photography is helping me learn that I do not always need to plan. I can let there be surprises. I am learning that each moment is unrepeatable. I have learned that the world is full of magical things. I have learned to stop and just say, “oh” when I see the sun rise over the river. 

#3) I honor that the vision is mine when I decide to take a photo. It is not my sister’s, my friend’s, but my vision and other people can see that. How very humbling and beautiful. This most humbling of all thoughts came to me one day…that in all things of nature there is also something of me. 

#4) I have learned to see things with fresh eyes. I pretend sometimes that the rose I am looking at is the 1st one I have ever seen. This practice takes me to a great calm and a memory of my curious self. 

#5) One of the ways photography is meditative is because I am pausing to let quiet thoughts and reflections flow through me. It is a gift of love to anyone who wishes to receive it. 

#6) It is a way for us to practice the art of paying attention to our now. 

#7) I believe that sharing our photos is a way to be generous. I think the waves that we give the other people on our path or sidewalk offers peace. I think that photography has helped me understand that the little things are not little. 

#8) We ask folks to smile for the photo. I believe that is because we all profit from those smiles! They are a type of peace offering. 

#9) Sometimes my photo is actually pretty bad…if you are a perfectionist, this can be very troubling until you think about another gift that taking a lot of photos teaches you. That you can laugh. You can belly laugh at the selfie with the double chin on view or the photo of your dog that looks like just a blurred smear of motion or their nose pressed against the camera lens. You can laugh! Trust me, my worst photos crack me up! I took a photo at Matthei Botanical Gardens while on a walk with my friend Heidi. I have a picture of dirt that is all blurry. I love this poorly captured photo because what I was getting close to that my friend Heidi saved me from was bending down to better photograph what turned out to be a rattlesnake. 

#10) Photography can be healing or help us with our tender egos. Story of Oprah. 

#11) Connect with your younger self’s limitless imagination – ask a million questions. 

#12) Own your own paths to creativity – Creativity is not the lottery that someone else one. We all can use our powers of creativity. 

#13) Ann Patchett: “Never be so focused on you’re looking for that you overlook the thing you actually find.” 

#14) My photographs also collect moments of dreams and discovery. They give me a chance to give a great big embrace to all that I see. 

Part 5- The end of my talk 

Every picture tells a story. I hope that some of the questions I asked you today and some of my conclusions about photography have helped you want to tell more stories. I hope it makes you want to breathe in life with reverence. 

I honor that so much joy in my life has come from the visual arts. From studying paintings, illustrations, and yes…photographs. In fact, I have experienced so much joy from art that I feel like it is worthy of a grand party! A joy party! And, the thing about joy is that it often comes as a complete surprise. So, in closing, let me just say…. I am glad we are planning a big anniversary party at the Interfaith Center. What a lovely thing to do! 

I believe that looking at photos, sharing photos and taking photos can help us along a path to love. They are a way to say stop and rest here in this beauty that surrounds me. They are a reminder to be curious enough to notice that the divine is here…or for those who are atheists a time to just see goodness. 

When I am actively looking and noticing things along my life path, I become more receptive to each moment. I become more still inside. I notice. I take my time. Then I take a photo.  

Some things in life are so mundane…think chopping carrots here. By opening our senses, we can see the sacred beauty of the mundane. Just an old leaf, the petunia growing up in the crack of the sidewalk. Any simple thing becomes something to stop and savor. 

When you look at a photo or take a photo. I encourage you to do this practice in gratitude. Perhaps you might want to talk to your subject and bow to the tree with the gnarled bark while you mouth the words thank you. Bless the things of our photos and then continue our day while noticing all the while. 

I encourage you to feel inspired and to find a way that your photo can tell why something or someone captured your attention. 

They say a picture is worth a thousand words – I think it is many more words than that. 

And so it is!