Thursday, June 20, 2013

Seeing 2013 (#24)

For your consideration:  the locus of what minimal activity transpires past midnight in the old downtown section of the seat of Mojave County. I was blessed to be in the right place at the right time (after forty minutes of waiting) in order to photograph a tableau containing a potent duality of states.

My wife and I were hunkered down in Kingman to shepherd her mother's passing; naturally it was a sad and stressful situation for the gathered family.  Bearing witness to one's parent (or mother-in-law) in extremis is a difficult aspect of life's tapestry; at the same time it is a profoundly spiritual experience for those willing and able to be fully present.  Playing a role in the final stage of mortality's play is a sacred privilege  and draining for all involved.

We each took our leave, as we could in our own fashion, for personal respite and regrouping.

Of course photography was not the focus of this trip, accordingly I brought along minimal camera gear as my toolkit for whatever emotional breaks I might be afforded:  one body and two relatively compact lenses. I had no idea how much time I'd have behind the viewfinder, if any; certainly the notion of the dubious luxury of nocturnal roaming empty city streets had not occurred . . .

Consequently, when the opportunity for some (beloved) late evening exploration presented itself I was faced with a fundamental technical challenge:  lacking a tripod, how would I stabilize my equipment for the long exposure times required?  A small beanbag might suffice, but it was unlikely I'd be able to hunt one down in this small town on short notice. Fortunately, my wife Julianna made a simple suggestion:  towels, from our hotel room.

So:  camera carefully cradled in a nest of towels atop the roof my in-laws' car, with a 2-second timer delay after pressing the shutter release, I was able to capture this — a scene largely inert and abandoned in the wee hours . . . yet also revealing an impending onslaught of immense noise and power . . . an atmosphere in transition.


Kingman, AZ, Amtrak Station, 1:29:01 a.m., #5937-7D

© 2013 James W. Murray, all rights reserved.

(click image for larger version)

Details: June 4, 2013, Canon 7D; f/9 @ 11sec; ±0 EV; ISO 200;
Canon EF 24-70mm f/2.8L IS USM @ 27mm

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Visit my full photographic repository at jwmurray.smugmug.com

Thursday, June 6, 2013

Seeing 2013 (#23)

For your consideration:  in honor of the passing of a woman beautiful in spirit, tender in demeanor, and delightful in her compassion and engagement with the world around her.

Over the course of the past week my wife and I, joined by wife's three other sisters and her father, have been as hosts and shepherds gathered for my mother-in-law's final days inhabiting the constraints and enclosure of this planet of her birth.  We each brought along personal vulnerabilities, aspirations and prayerful wishes that Loretta's transformation — that unfathomable release into the purely spiritual realm — be as smooth and comfortable as possible.  As was to be expected, she had moments at turns sublime and challenging.

What can we the living truly know of the Great Beyond?  Nothing of our common existence can penetrate the profound mystery of the inevitable transiting of that door.

The final few days were difficult for the family, most of all for Lauretta:  she seemed to struggle mightily to find confort and peace with her destination, or so it seemed to me.  Yet, in the last hours, a tranquility emerged.  As she slipped beyond us, so too did she seem to become ever more loosely confined by the vestiges of her mortal vessel.

And then, in an instant: she was free.  

At long last (eighty-seven years of human limitations!), the doorway opened, the curtain parted, The Way was clear, and she soared forth into the incorporeal realm of pure enlightenment, peace and lovingkindness.

And as a friend-of-friend once said, concerning the death of a loved one:  "she's been fine ever since."

Lauretta Book:  March 17, 1926 - June 5, 2013. 

Requiescat In Pace.



Heaven's Gate, #4167-7D

© 2013 James W. Murray, all rights reserved.

(click image for larger version)

Details: May 12, 2013, Canon 7D; f/9 @ 1/640 sec; ±0 EV; ISO 800;
Canon EF 24-70mm f/2.8L IS USM @ 24mm

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Visit my full photographic repository at jwmurray.smugmug.com