This post has nothing to do with writing or books, but I thought these photographs were beautiful. My favorite is the one with the lush, green landscape and the red umbrella. A close second is the lightning. Powerful! Which one is your favorite?

National Geographic website.

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Author website.

Because so many of us here in the U.S. are dealing with scorching temperatures, I thought I’d offer an iceberg or two to cool you off. Photographer Camille Seaman shoots icebergs, showing the world the complex beauty of these massive, ancient chunks of polar ice. Not only is her work amazingly beautiful, but this is the perfect thing to watch on a hot summer day.  Watch now >> on TED talks (4 minute video)

Why you should listen to her:

Camille Seaman

Camille Seaman takes photographs all over the world using digital and film cameras in multiple formats. Since 2003, her work has concentrated on the fragile environment of the polar regions. Her current project concerns the beauty of natural environments in Siberia. 

Seaman’s photographs have been published in Newsweek, Outside, Zeit Wissen, Men’s Journal and more, and she has self-published many books on themes like “My China” and “Melting Away: Polar Images” through Fastback Creative Books, a company that she co-founded. In 2008, she was honored with a one-person exhibition, “The Last Iceberg,” at the National Academy of Sciences, Washington DC.

If you looking for a deeper reason to view these icebergs, I am reminded that Carl Jung had a theory that said that the part of the iceberg that is above the surface of the water is seen as the conscious mind. It’s the part of the mind that we live in most of the time, and contains information that is in our immediate awareness.  Below the level of the conscious mind, and the bulk of the iceberg, is what Jung called the “personal unconscious.” Here we will find thoughts, feelings, urges and other information that is difficult to bring to consciousness. In fact, most of it will never see the light of day.

Let me know if this helps you stay cool!

 
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This is what you shall do
by Walt Whitman

“This is what you shall do; Love the earth and sun and the animals, despise riches, give alms to every one that asks, stand up for the stupid and crazy, devote your income and labor to others, hate tyrants, argue not concerning God, have patience and indulgence toward the people, take off your hat to nothing known or unknown or to any man or number of men, go freely with powerful uneducated persons and with the young and with the mothers of families, read these leaves in the open air every season of every year of your life, re-examine all you have been told at school or church or in any book, dismiss whatever insults your own soul, and your very flesh shall be a great poem and have the richest fluency not only in its words but in the silent lines of its lips and face and between the lashes of your eyes and in every motion and joint of your body.”

“This is what you shall do…” by Walt Whitman, from the preface of Leaves of Grass. Public domain.

Happy Summer, everyone!

Author website

P.S. If you’re looking for ways to preserve your family stories go here.

I love treehouses. As a kid, I had one that my father built that was simple, yet splendid, and wedged between two ample trees. It had two windows and a door and a handmade wooden ladder. I can still remember the woody, earthy smell of it. (I regret that I don’t have any photographs of it to share, but I did pull a few images from Google.)

Today, I live in the Blue Ridge Mountains in a house that has an amazing back porch overlooking the forest that many guests say reminds them of an elaborate treehouse. So this post, instead of being about writing and creativity, is in honor of houses in trees.  

Did you have a treehouse as a kid? Which is your favorite of these images? As always, I’d love to hear from you.

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Author website.

The photographer Ansel Adams said:

“There is a deeper thing to express — the return of humanity to some sort of balanced awareness of the natural things — some rocks and sky. We need a little earth to stand on and feel run through our fingers. Perhaps Photography can do this — I am going to try anyhow.”

And,

“I hesitate to define just what the qualities of a true wilderness experience are. Like music and art, wilderness can be defined only on its own terms. The less talk, the better.”

Cairns are something I saw a lot of while living in Colorado, especially on hikes in Rocky Mountain National Park, when above treeline. They mark the way when the trail disappears over solid rock surfaces. They also mark the tops of summits.

To me, cairns are a comforting symbol that let us know that we’re on the right track, that we’ve come to the right place, and that whoever came before us wants to help guide us.

Yesterday, while hiking in the national forest near our home (in North Carolina), my mate and I found three cairns along a mountain stream. They weren’t marking a trail, but were placed, seemingly magically, along and even in the stream bed.

Three, as you know from fairy tales, is a magic number. It means that something is about to happen. Take three wishes, for example. The initiate is given three wishes and this determines their fate. In Jungian thought, threes symbolize transformation. So whenever I see three of something, or get three nudges from the universe that I need to go in another direction, I know something’s going on in a powerful way.

We have also created three cairns at our home, marking the path to our door. We want anyone who visits to know that they’ve come to the right place. The trail, at least for a little while, is this way. Beyond the third cairn, marks the beginning of hospitality. Peace to all who enter here, says the small symbol next to our door.

The stories that we create and share are like cairns. They are like markers we leave behind that show other people the shape that our journeys have taken. Stories, to me, whether they are fiction, nonfiction or somewhere in-between, are sacred beings. They are our way of communicating with our current tribe, our descendants and also our imagination, intuition and spirit, the collective around us.

So if given three wishes, one of them that I offer is this:

 May we all find our creative journey with ease and leave markers along the way for those who follow to make their journey a little easier.

And so it is.

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A lynx crosses the finish area during the first training run for the men’s downhill race of the Vancouver 2010 Winter Olympics in Whistler, B.C.

This has nothing to do with writing or creativity, except that I’ve been watching the Olympics every night on television and until I saw this photo, I hadn’t given a thought to the 4-legged spectators that may be watching, as well.

Are you watching the Olympics?

In the spirit of Thanksgiving, I am reposting a list I shared a few months ago of 100 things (in no particular order) that I am grateful for.

Creating a gratitude list can help return you to a sense of power and possibility. Please feel free to add the things you’re grateful at the comment section at the bottom of the post (or if you are an email subscriber, you can click on the name of the post and it will take you to the blog to comment).

1. my mate
2. my children
3. friends
4. meaningful work
5. laughter
6. community
7. mountain bluebirds
8. coffee shops
9. organic Assam tea
10. road maps
11. wildlife protection
12. trails
13. libraries
14. bookstores
15. artists
16. painters
17. wisdom
18. knowledge
19. potluck dinners
20. National Parks
21. prairie dogs and coyotes
22. good movies
23. elk
24. waterfalls
25. imagination
26. boldness
27. courage
28. people who read books
29. people who read my books
30. discipline
31. joy
32. poetry
33. encouragement
34. mountain ranges
35. good physical health
36. poets
37. dancers
38. integrity
39. sparrows
40. eagles
41. porch swings
42. honor
43. faith
44. resilience
45. kindness
46. authenticity
47. aspiring writers, artists, poets
48. cottonwood trees
49. sparrows
50. shade
51. oak trees
52. all trees
53. extended family
54. unconditional love
55. inspiration
56. strawberries
57. gardens
58. water hoses
59. Pentel mechanical pencils
60. streams
61. rivers
62. oceans
63. mother earth
64. adversity
65. inner work
66. good neighbors
67. surprising moments
68. Pentel pens
69. fresh baked bread
70. blueberries
71. raspberries
72. vegetables
73. art galleries
74. resiliency
75. rain forests
76. vacations
77. a really good joke
78. creativity
79. traveling
80. pets
81. teachers
82. mentors
83. really good books
84. children
85. literary agents
86. Wii sports
87. dreams
88. snow
89. snowshoes
90. snow shovels
91. running water
92. electricity
93. shelter
94. honest politicians
95. really good music
96. spiritual paths
97. sidewalks
98. word processing software
99. time to write
100. hope

What would be on your list?

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Norbert Rosing’s striking images of a wild polar bear coming upon tethered sled dogs in the wilds of Canada’s Hudson Bay.

The photographer was sure that he was going to see the end of his dogs when the polar bear wandered in.

The Polar Bear returned every night that week to play with the dogs.

P.S. These images have been making the rounds. Thanks to Nadine Laman for sending them to me. See also the YouTube video below. Amazing footage.

Click here to view the embedded video.

Peace!

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