his lens/my pen

My husband has been a photographer since I met him more than thirty years ago. It is a delight watching him grow within this avocation. It is breathtaking to see the world through his eyes. When we travel he’s out there clambering up hills and staircases, venturing around corners and into out of the way spaces, capturing images to tell his story. You’d find me tucked away in a quiet corner or nestled on a bench beside a quietly flowing river, writing in my notebook, capturing the same or related vista with words. I’ve wanted to combine creative forces with him for some time now.

Enter his lens/my pen. I’ve begun culling photographs that speak to me, letting them work their magic. The process is reminiscent of that old Magic 8 Ball. My gaze falls on an image and I wait to see what message arises from within the wordplace of my own creative well.

I am enjoying the process, taking his images deeper into my consciousness, using them as a springboard to explore my own creativity. More than anything, these musings upon his photographs are another way of loving him — celebrating his gift not just with a camera but even more, the gift of his heart’s vision.

Enjoy.