• home
    • wild blackberries
    • recent film work
    • dear friend
    • every last drop
    • gathered leaves
  • blog
  • about / statement
  • contact
Menu

kate guy photography

  • personal projects
    • home
    • wild blackberries
    • recent film work
    • dear friend
    • every last drop
    • gathered leaves
  • blog
  • about / statement
  • contact

Like what you see? Sign up for my newsletter! Get project news, unseen work, links to recent posts, and other fun all delivered to your inbox once a month. Signing up will also get you access to old issues.

I respect your privacy, and will never sell your information.

Thanks so much for signing up!

Dormant(ish)

May 12, 2021

I took a lot of photos in April. The majority of them were for clients, but I took a hefty amount for myself as well. I survived the busyness of April, and was ready to hit May running: editing and writing and adding to my website and blog. But so far, well, I haven’t really done much.

I read two great blogs from Austin Kleon in the last few weeks: one called “I’m not languishing, I’m dormant,” and the other a follow-up, “Wintering and dormancy.” (If you’re new here you’ll find I link to Austin’s work a lot. He’s pretty fab, and I suggest you check him out.) The basic gist of the two is that life is cyclical and filled with seasons, and that that’s ok. It’s best not to try to force something to grow in a wintering period. In the second post he refers to author Katherine May’s book, Wintering: The Power of Rest and Retreat in Difficult Times, in which she discusses lessons of wintering learned from the natural world:

Plants and animals don’t fight the winter; they don’t pretend it’s not happening and attempt to carry on living the same lives that they lived in the summer. They prepare. They adapt. They perform extraordinary acts of metamorphosis to get them through. Winter is a time of withdrawing from the world, maximising scant resources, carrying out acts of brutal efficiency and vanishing from sight; but that’s where the transformation occurs. Winter is not the death of the life cycle, but its crucible.

I couldn’t agree more.

He also makes reference in the first to artist Corita Kent, who would watch a maple tree outside her apartment as it changed through the seasons. She eventually began to see the tree as a metaphor for creativity, recognizing that in the winter though the tree might look dead a great creative force was actually quietly at work deep within.

This sums up well where I feel like I am these last couple of months. While not as much has been going on on the outside, things have been happening quietly inside me. As if it wasn’t enough working through a pandemic, homeschooling the kiddos, and trying to figure out how to move back into “normal” life (and frankly, to figure out how much we even want/plan/intend to move back into it, a subject for another blog) we’ve also been considering the idea of a move that may keep us close to this area, or may move us quite far. The whole thing has had me thinking a lot about the idea of home, the complicated relationship we sometimes have with it, and the way my camera helps me define and understand them both. I suspect this subject will take up significant real estate here on my blog in the coming weeks.

← Four Weeks Away →
mirrors / windows RSS
Archive
  • April 2025
  • July 2024
  • April 2024
  • March 2024
  • July 2023
  • June 2023
  • April 2023
  • March 2023
  • February 2023
  • January 2023
  • December 2022
  • November 2022
  • October 2022
  • September 2022
  • August 2022
  • July 2022
  • May 2022
  • April 2022
  • March 2022
  • February 2022
  • January 2022
  • December 2021
  • November 2021
  • October 2021
  • September 2021
  • July 2021
  • May 2021
  • April 2021
  • March 2021
  • February 2021
  • January 2021
  • December 2020
  • November 2020
  • October 2020
  • September 2020
  • August 2020
  • July 2020
  • June 2020
  • May 2020
  • December 2019
  • October 2019
  • September 2019
  • February 2019
  • July 2018
  • May 2018

SELECTED Posts

Featured
DSCF1203.jpg
Apr 28, 2025
Apr 28, 2025
Apr 28, 2025
0E7A4902.jpg
Apr 5, 2025
Apr 5, 2025
Apr 5, 2025
Morning Reverie
Jul 16, 2024
Morning Reverie
Jul 16, 2024
Jul 16, 2024
Still Here
Apr 29, 2024
Still Here
Apr 29, 2024
Apr 29, 2024
0E7A6030.jpg
Apr 13, 2024
Apr 13, 2024
Apr 13, 2024
0E7A6599.jpg
Mar 29, 2024
Mar 29, 2024
Mar 29, 2024
0E7A6294.jpg
Mar 12, 2024
a good day
Mar 12, 2024
Mar 12, 2024
Write here...
Jun 30, 2023
Write here...
Jun 30, 2023
Jun 30, 2023
Rest
Jun 7, 2023
Rest
Jun 7, 2023
Jun 7, 2023
You Could Make This Place Beautiful
Apr 24, 2023
You Could Make This Place Beautiful
Apr 24, 2023
Apr 24, 2023
0E7A0498.jpg
Apr 7, 2023
Back to the Beginning
Apr 7, 2023
Apr 7, 2023
img20230225_1066.jpg
Mar 9, 2023
On Motherhood
Mar 9, 2023
Mar 9, 2023
img20220405_0008-2.jpg
Feb 7, 2023
Feb 7, 2023
Feb 7, 2023
Reimagine
Jan 10, 2023
Reimagine
Jan 10, 2023
Jan 10, 2023
Prayer
Oct 23, 2022
Prayer
Oct 23, 2022
Oct 23, 2022
Last Days of Summer
Aug 31, 2022
Last Days of Summer
Aug 31, 2022
Aug 31, 2022
0E7A4056.jpg
Jul 4, 2022
Jul 4, 2022
Jul 4, 2022
0E7A1072.jpg
May 16, 2022
May 16, 2022
May 16, 2022
The Dark
May 12, 2022
The Dark
May 12, 2022
May 12, 2022
Meditations on Death & Life
Apr 26, 2022
Meditations on Death & Life
Apr 26, 2022
Apr 26, 2022
A Portrait
Apr 11, 2022
A Portrait
Apr 11, 2022
Apr 11, 2022
IMG_1971.jpg
Feb 7, 2022
Solitude
Feb 7, 2022
Feb 7, 2022
"Between Every Two Pines...
Jan 7, 2022
"Between Every Two Pines...
Jan 7, 2022
Jan 7, 2022
Dreams and Memories
Dec 6, 2021
Dreams and Memories
Dec 6, 2021
Dec 6, 2021
Learning to Unsee
Nov 7, 2021
Learning to Unsee
Nov 7, 2021
Nov 7, 2021
IMG_2239.jpg
Apr 21, 2021
Apr 21, 2021
Apr 21, 2021
IMG_4434-3.jpg
Oct 27, 2020
In the Details
Oct 27, 2020
Oct 27, 2020
IMG_7025.jpg
Jun 22, 2020
Impermanence
Jun 22, 2020
Jun 22, 2020

Like what you see? Hit the subscribe button below to get my newsletter delivered to your inbox once a month. Want to reach out? You can send me a note here.

Subscribe

Powered by Squarespace