|With Mary Randlett, an iconic NW nature photographer.|
I just returned from a journey of the heart, voyage du cœur, and when we put it into another language, it doesn't hurt so much. Maybe...But opening up, having feelings about old friends, mentors when we are actually with them--seeing firsthand the passage of time and experience--is a bit frightening partly because it reveals our own journey even as we are sharing "their moment."
It cannot be described as fun, although Mary and I laughed a lot in the car as she drove me to Ashford, then Whidbey Island, WA, to visit Trudy Sundberg, a woman I had known and admired in my late 20s as a Navy wife before I had a 30-year job with the National Park Service, then retired in 2005. We never spoke again for over 30 years. Then, recently, we connected by e-mail. Photo of Trudy Sundberg with the blogger at the end of this article.
Back to Olympia, WA. When I stayed with Mary Randlett for four nights and slept on a couch in the living room, I viewed a wall of art (mostly paintings) given to her over the years...I had my own bathroom. It included a black spider. She would have nixed it, having more important things to do, perhaps. She said, "it won't last; it can't get out." Well, it spun a thread and the next morning, was hanging by it. Later, got out; then, went back in. I took it out the next day and gave it a new room in her place. She'll never know and the spider moved on. Is this a lesson? Not sure...
Here is a sonnet I wrote for Mary and read it to her. She said, "amazing," but wasn't really listening except to the last two lines. Then, she forgot it. That's OK. Sharing it anyway. The clothespins are used to dry her photos.
|One wall of art in Mary's living room.|
|Mary dry mounting a photo.|
Mary's Wall of Art, Spider, Creativity
Up and drinking coffee--without fat;
her spider spun a thread, now hanging there.
I'm pacing, looking thinking this and that--
and seeing Mary's beauty everywhere.
How we all survive is news to me!
I thought that spider gave up, crisp and dead,
its blackness dulled by night. But now I see
he's hanging; found his peace; conveys no dread.
Creative minds envelop space and time--
Reach out; embrace; devour; try to keep
that perfect moment like a perfect rhyme,
then feel it slip away, return in sleep.
She's not awake, but soon she'll turn her eye
to clouds and earth, to mountains in the sky.
Sonnet: Kay Weeks for Mary Randlett 11.12.11
Link below: Some of Mary Randlett's incredible photographs...high quality...black and white