Being a Tree in a Forest

A very lovely lady in the USA has worked out the Chinese characters for Tree in Forest for me; hopefully so we can get a seal made. She kindly made a video for me explaining her ideas; you can see it below.

This got me thinking a little this morning about why I chose Tree in Forest as a name. For me, it has a few layers of meaning and implication - and being me, it implies more questions than it answers.

The first part is the metaphor in the name, of the single person as the tree in a forest of people. All of us seemingly looking alike on the surface, but all unique individuals as we look closer. Every tree looks alike, but every one is still its own self. I also like the idea of being one part of a greater overall organism, the single tree in the larger forest. We're all one in many, after all.

Secondly, of course, is the inevitable Buddhist metaphor. We probably all know the riddle

If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?

It wasn't until I started looking into its derivation that I found out that it didn't originally come from Buddhism (if Wikipedia is to be believed); but it certainly fits it well. If no-one else perceives us, are we still real? Is reality defined by our existence as part of the forest, or is simply our own perception enough? And is what we see as real actually a 'reality'?

Plus, I really, really like trees.

Still here, and so are the photos

Whew; it's been a busy few weeks. I have a new lens (see the images below), and a new monitor calibrator, so I can find out just how poorly my monitor has been showing my images.

The exhibition is going well; 5 framed photos have sold, which is a very nice feeling. Four more and I reach my goal - hooray! For anyone who hasn't seen them yet, Newtown by Night will be up for another three weeks; make sure you drop in and have a look. The coffee at Berkelouw is also worth trying!

Pain levels are acting up quite badly, though - I'm working through a daze of pain and medications today, and am currently mildy dreading the upset stomach I'm about to have from the ibuprofen. Cold, damp weather exacerbates both the arthritis and the nerve pain, and I'm tired enough that it's all a bit too hard.

Still, my bad days are better than my good ones used to be. So onwards, upwards, and always twirling towards freedom. Besides, who could be cranky with Harry the kitten around?

The new lens takes beautiful photos of other people's new kittens!

Prints.. and free chocolate!

When I was originally working out how many pieces I need to sell at the Newtown by Night exhibition, my most important goal was covering my costs, so I don't end up several hundred dollars down. The next goal was to make enough profit from sales to:

a. buy a decent mat cutter, to make it less painful on my wrists for the next time I have a showing (and have less need to practice my Buddhist detachment when I screw up a mat again), and

b. Pay for membership & a course at the Australian Photographic Centre, to improve my lighting skills. At the moment I'm great at making ambient light do what I want, but stuffed if I have to create the light myself - and at least one of the projects I want to make next will need some lighting to turn out as I envision it.

At the moment, it looks like I'll cover my costs, which is a huge relief. And I'll probably have enough left over for a mat cutter (hooray!). I realised this morning, though, that I forgot to account for Berkelouw's commission on the works (they put the money back into covering the costs of the exhibitions - how cool is that!), which makes the last goal even tougher than I originally thought.

So, if you wanted to buy a print, or know someone you think would like one, please make the effort to get it happening; don't just let it fall by the wayside. And to those of you who've already put a deposit on prints, thank you!

Free chocolate!

And as a thank you, if you post a comment here on the photojournal after you put a deposit on a print (or multiple prints!), I'll send you a box of Aardvarque chocolate - yum!

And we're off!

Opening night went fabulously - thank you so much everyone who made it out on a cold, wet Thursday night to see the works and celebrate.


Obligatory photo of the artist; I'm the one leaning on the distinguished guy at the right.

We had surprisingly few (read: none) hitches - my nightmares of frames falling off the wall overnight, or images sneaking out of their mats didn't eventuate, and everyone seemed to have a good time. Next time I'll take the day of an opening off, and probably the day after as well - I was pretty tired and sore the next day; but I'm so very happy. Thank you, everyone.



The exhibition will run for the next four weeks, so if you couldn't make opening night, make sure you drop in and take a look.

There are more photos from the opening in the main gallery; click through any of the images, or click here to see them. Most of them weren't actually taken by me; we handed the camera around quite a bit.

Just a little further

One day to go. We managed to get all the works signed and re-framed, and only broke two frames; not bad going, all things considered. Next time I'll know better.

I’m having a small hanging party tonight; four of us are going to hang the images, and then go have dinner somewhere. It should be good! I’m looking forward to seeing how the works look on the wall.

Tomorrow night at 6pm we open, and I try to talk intelligently about my work; hopefully without babbling too much. See you there!




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Equanimity in Action

I've mentioned being Buddhist before, I'm sure. It has its advantages; for one thing, I no longer swear or have a stompy moment when I accidentally shatter the glass on an image I'm trying to re-frame. Hooray for equanimity!

Now to learn how to not get annoyed at people on public transport.

5 Days and Counting

So, five days until opening night. Oddly enough, I'm no longer very nervous; just excited. All the images are framed, which is a huge weight off my mind. I realised this morning, though, that I'd forgotten to sign them, so one of tomorrow's jobs will be opening the frames back up and signing the mats. Assuming I can find my pencil sharpener, that is - if anyone sees a pencil sharpener roaming truant-like around the wilds of Stanmore, could they send it back to me, please?

And naturally, now they're done I can see all the tiny bits of dust that somehow managed to creep in unseen while I was framing; it'll be good to clean then up again while I sign them.

Dust motes aside, I'm very much enjoying looking at the collection, now they're all matted, mounted and framed. There's a presence to a properly-framed picture that a loose print just doesn't have, and seeing all of them together gives an impact that I'm proud of, and a little surprised; they seem like seperate pieces of art now, not just my pictures. It's a very good thing.

Next I take a break, then start writing the dreaded Artist's Statement. Fortunately, with this body of work I'm very aware of the concepts I'm working with, so the difficulty is going to be in phrasing myself clearly and concisely, not in fumbling to explain a half-felt idea.

I'll see some of you on Thursday night!