All images in this post were created through the use of long exposure, which hopefully demonstrates the effect I am trying to communicate, and the smoothness of texture that results when we “see through time”.

I’ve been thinking about trials. It seems to be a common theme these days. I’m not sure why my mind goes there so much, so often. Perhaps it’s because I have the time and space to wonder and wander in that mindscape. I’m not dwelling on any particular negative emotion or situation, just random thoughts about the trials and struggles of life. I go to the beach every morning and walk for almost 2 hours- (got to get my 10,000+ steps in). Walking barefoot on the beach is a “mindful” way to start my day. I read a quote the other day by Rebecca Solnit in Wanderlust, The History of Walking: “Exploring the world is one of the best ways of exploring the mind… and walking travels both terrains.” I begin well before sunrise when the sky is still dark, with only a sliver of approaching dawn above the horizon. For 50 minutes, the sky evolves through fiery shades of amber, deep coral, and vibrant orange. And then the flaming disk of the sun emerges from the ocean and reflects and refracts its light across the surface of the water. In the moment as I watch this celestial lightshow, the ocean surface is choppy and turbulent, some days rougher than others. Often there are rain squalls off the shore that give additional texture to the sky and sea. In an attempt to graphically represent my feelings of inner turmoil, it occurred to me that through a simple photographic trick of manipulating time, I could remove the rough surface of the sea, and capture a tranquil and beautiful sunrise image. That trick is to drag out the shutter for a longer period of time.

I went back several days later with the intent to articulate these feelings in a photographic image. I set my camera upon a tripod at Pounders Beach and waited through the early iridescence of sunrise. I stacked 10 stops of neutral-density filters in front of my lens, which allowed me to achieve a 40-second exposure. In those 40 seconds, all the waves and turbulence smoothed and settled into an abstract blur. Even the clouds in the sky softened. When that image was finished, I quickly removed all the filters and adjusted the settings on my camera to shoot a much quicker image to represent “my” real time view. Studying those images side by side allowed me to consider my relationship to the turbulences in my life. I all too often feel stress moment by moment. I almost always react to the current world around me and all it has to throw my way. We talk of perspective in context of changing our vantage point, of raising or lowering our point of view with respect to the horizon. What if perspective could also be altered through the lens of time? What if one could comprehend the beginning from the end and understand all the energy that passes between those two markers on a watch dial, or even between the pages of a calendar, or even over the course of a lifetime? My still image represents 40 seconds of power and turbulence, but over time, the hard edges disappear.

First image- with 10 stops of neutral density, giving me 40 seconds of exposure

Second image- with no neutral density, allowing a 1/20 second exposure

I believe that is how God sees human life, how He sees me. He understands the turbulence of the moments of my life. He knows I bob my head from one wave to another, pushed and pulled by currents, tides, and other pulses of energy. But He also sees my beginning from my end. In order to achieve the polish I require, turbulence is a necessary element of the refining process. When time is included in the equation, there is grace and beauty in growth and development. The perspective of life is more painterly, more elegant, richer, and full of grace.

“As wave is driven by wave
And each, pursued, pursues the wave ahead,
So time flies on and follows, flies, and follows,
Always, for ever and new. What was before
Is left behind; what never was is now;
And every passing moment is renewed.”
Ovid, Metamorphoses