Through the Camera's Lens

I woke up in a new place the other day. I moved slowly and quietly as the sleep withered away from my body. The knotted pine door to my bedroom was closed and I noticed the pine knots were glowing red. Just beyond the door were massive windows that overlooked Middle Cullen Lake near Pequot Lakes in Minnesota. I held my breath in that momentary pause filled with wonder, curiosity, excitement, and anticipation. We arrived to the lake the night before and I had no idea what it looked like outside as it was dark upon our arrival. Whatever I was about to see for the first time, I had no doubt, would be stunning.

The sunrise on that early very crisp fall morning on the lake was stunning. I immediately threw on some warm clothes, grabbed my camera, and away I went. Each second was critical as the light changed so fast. I stepped out on to the deck of the lake house, snapped a few photos, and proceeded onward through the dew covered grass. In the tranquility of this morning, you could hear the day waking up. It was tender, gentle, and serene, yet definitely knew how to make an entrance!

I headed down to the dock where a few boats were lazily and patiently waiting, tied to the dock. They slowly moved back and forth as the water beneath them stretched and yawned. I looked out over the lake as the steam rose from the water's surface - rising to meet the sun, embracing the rays as if to say good morning. The water sheepishly lapped against the metal poles of the dock not wanting to be intrusive in its movements, yet uncontrolled in its need to move about. The tall reeds swayed and bowed scooping up the slightest of sweet autumn breezes. The sun dodged in and out of some overstretched clouds across the morning sky causing the sun sparkles on the water to dance with the lily pads speckled throughout the shallow part of the lake. And in the distant, the haunting call of the loon quietly echoed over the lake.

I think I viewed that entire morning through my camera's lens. I stretched out on the dock trying to compose that perfect angle for my shot. The sun warmed my face and cast a stunning brightness through my lens. I couldnt even read the meter through my viewfinder so I did my best to guess the appropriate shutter speed and aperture. I let go of my concentration on the technicalities of my camera and welcomed the image that revealed itself, letting the moment guide me rather than my equipment.

The morning was peaceful and grand. The nipping cold air was refreshing and comforting. This was a perfect autumn morning. As the day continued to wake up and unravel itself, I found myself lost in a cumulative set of meditative moments. I've tried to meditate - sitting quietly, concentrating on my breathing, or sometimes I use music, clear my head and just let go. This has never proven to be successful for me. When I have camera in hand and am able to be in nature and let go of everything else but what I am seeing, hearing , smelling, feeling, tasting through the lens of my camera, it is like no other peace I have ever felt in my life. Each photo is my meditative moment. It's a representation of my most present existence in that exact moment - a visual documentation of the texture of my life, the scent of my life, the scene of my life. Just as I had those sensory experiences while I was there in that moment - living, breathing, feeling, touching, smelling, tasting, and being - I hope for my viewer a sensory experience as well - completely personalized to each individual person of course. My art is alive and while I may no longer be physically there or physically present in that moment, emotionally, I always will be and that permanent presence will continue to live on through my photography.

Lately, life has thrown a few rough patches at me. I rumble over them doing the best I can, but my shocks are worn and the cushion that was once fully intact and strong has been well beaten and worn throughout the years. Some weeks I am clawing and scraping my way to the weekend. My clothes are ripped, the souls of my shoes are shredded, and I feel like my life is literally bleeding out of me. Other weeks, I feel fine and seem to coast through without a care in the world. Or, perhaps I am only living on the surface, refusing to let things in - to let things get too close. While last week proved very well to be one of those weeks that kicked my ass, this weekend getaway was just what I needed. Much of my energy is spent trying to figure out just who I am in this life. Having come from a life-changing experience traveling back to my birth country and navigating daily, hourly, minutely challenges in my professional life, especially around my various social and cultural identities, many times, I feel as if I am reaching out into the universe trying to grasp on to anything that seems sound and stable. If this even works, that object carries so little meaning to me. It's more of a secure foundation for me to rest on just for a moment.

There are places throughout the world where I feel whole and complete. There are people in my life who I know I can count on and are stable fixtures in my life even when I feel chameleon-ish, changing colors and shedding layer after layer after layer. And finally, there are moments, many moments and scenes in my life, that represent all of who I am - the good, the bad, and the ugly at times - caught in the click of a shutter and captured and presented in the most beautiful, honest, and truest way that I could ever reveal myself to anyone. Every part of my life becomes the best part of my life. And my story, my life, is stunningly revealed through the camera's lens.

I'm a Grown Up. I Need to Make Grown Up Decisions

Remember riding bikes with the neighbor kids all over the place - races down the street, skid out contests in the cul-du-sac, wheelie contests and giving our friends bucks on our bikes either on the handle bars or on pegs?

Remember tearing up the neighbor's yard while they were away at work playing tackle football and how we'd always time it just right to vacate the premises just before their car appeared coming over the hill? We thought we'd be safe if we weren't there ripping up the grass pretending to be Joe Montana, Herschel Walker, and The Fridge.

Remember the late night ditch games and the bonfires? Remember when we were running through the neighbor's yard that one night and you didnt see the clothes line because it was dark and the bon fire was too far away for the light to provide any assistance?

Remember just sitting on the front steps with a couple of friends drinking sodas or eating icees and just listening to the distant lawn mower, the birds chirping, and the occasional planes flying overhead? Remember the sweet breezes that used to blow and the warm spots in the sun and cool refuge in the shade?

Remember day long, even on into the night, pond hockey games with the neighborhood? Remember snowboarding contests and icy jumps on the sledding hill between the two houses up on the pond?

Remember when it was a big deal to ride our bikes to Texaco and load up on candy and Texaco Tankers full of some awful mixture of Mountain Dew, Orange Soda, Coke, and Mellow Yellow? How we still have teeth is a miracle of nature I suppose. And remember when $3 would buy you more candy than you knew what to do with?

Remember go-cart races and bumper boat derbies? Trips to the A & W Root Beer stand and Dairy Queen. Remember all weekend long softball tournaments, dusty gloves and cleats, sweaty jerseys and the best cheers ever from the bench? Remember every time you robbed me of my famous home run hits? I may or may not still hold a tiny grudge!

As I sit here typing out these words, reminiscing on these memories, I can still feel the wind in my face as I raced down the street on my bike. I can still see the huge plastic Texaco Tanker cups. I can still hear the voices and laughter of all my friends and neighbors at the bon fire or just sitting outside enjoying a beautiful day. I still smell the bon fire smoke in my clothes and filling the cool night air with such an inviting and comforting smell. And I'm still up on our old pond all day and all night playing hockey. And every now and then, I hear the chatter of my co-workers down the hall, or I tune into the construction sounds outside my window, or I glimpse over at the various piles that have started accumulating on my desk and I am reminded, I am not 10 years old anymore enjoying the freedom of being a kid. I'm 32 and a half and dealing with all of the non stop responsibilities of being a grown up. While in reality, I have much more freedom, or, perhaps, different freedom, from when I was a kid. Most days I wish I could be back out on my bike, playing football, drinking Texaco Tankers, and sitting around bon fires every Friday night without a care in the world.

After going to Korea and experiencing all I have there and through my experiences since being back at home, one thing has become extremely clear to me in terms of my life path and what I want and need. The idea of family is extremely important to me. Going back to the orphanage and finding out the information I did and knowing that at one point I had a family in Korea and knowing that I may still have a family there but then being thankful for the adoptive family I came to and knowing that I have that family here that I can talk to and see on a regular basis, this all has reinforced the need for continued family in my life. For me that means at least a kid of my own. I have no interest in giving birth to this child, but am interested in exploring alternative, and extremely expensive, options that fall within the realm of having children. I am starting to battle a bit in my own head with the idea of international adoption and how would that be for me as an international adoptee who has had the experience of going back and who would be so intentional about making sure my adoptive child would have the resources, support, and access to their cultural heritage and personal history. Again, a very expensive option as well.

I know I do not want to be a single parent. I know myself well enough to know I would not do very well with this. I want to relationship - a healthy meaningful relationship. Romantic relationships have always been places I have struggled for a variety of different reasons. While I know not everything has changed for me because of my experiences with Korea, I know a considerable amount has and I feel more in a place to be able to function well within a relationship context. And I am making those grown up decisions in order to be able to have that kind of relationship. I'm not getting any younger and there are things I want in my life. It's not anything I feel I am forcing for myself, but more of an entry into this particular phase of life that I have been evolving to for quite some time. I can envision a partnership, at least a kid, but probably more, love, honestly, commitment, and all those other necessary ingredients for a good, strong, stable relationship, and shared space that we open up to our family and friends that is filled with lots of light, laughter, and positive energy. I can see this so clearly in my mind's eye that it's almost as if I can reach out and grab it.

So I am here in this moment knowing what I want and knowing how to get there and really feeling for the first time that I'm really close. Along with all of this comes to major grown up decisions that I feel more than ready to make. It's not about someone else. It's about me. It's about making a commitment to myself and filling my life, the life I want to have, with the things that I know will allow me to share my life and my heart in ways that I never have before. And although alot of this unfortunately carries dollar signs with it, it's also not about that. It's so much more than that - above and beyond all that - and like alot of things in my life right now, these are things that are seemingly beyond my control in terms of thinking about them, wanting them, or envisioning them. Everything is flooding in so automatically and this new frame has been put before me. In just the last few weeks I have thrown my arms up in the air to the universe and let go of alot of stuff. It's pretty amazing what's resulted from that I do just have to say.