Postcard 009 - Reflections
Over the last year and change, I've spent a lot of time examining myself and the way I move through the world.
The initial period was mostly watching — paying attention to where my energy was drawn and then reflecting on that. After a while, it was easier to see patterns of behaviors that I thought were worth sustaining, many of which involved being a part of a wind up or wind down sequence — things that helped get me into a flow state or bring me out of it and transition into the next activity.
When I lived in Eastlake, my morning walk to the water was one of those wind up activities for the day. The walk itself could be measured in meters, but there was something about the ritual of looking outside, getting dressed for the elements, and being greeted by fresh air that made it feel far more grandiose than perhaps it should have.
On many of these mornings, I'd be enamored by the water itself. On sunny mornings, I'd watch the light skip across the waves and on cloudy mornings, I'd appreciate the mirror-like quality of a lake which looked still in ways that no thriving ecosystem ever is.
As a photographer — or at least, someone with a camera — I'd often challenge myself on these mornings to create an interesting image (for me, if no one else). The subject of these images ranged a lot based on the weather and presence of any wildlife who may indulge me as a model, but the most common of them was the Space Needle, whose reflection is pictured above.
The consistency of the routine and the view from which I'd take photos made this a fun quest, as the goal of the activity was to push myself to look — to truly look — and see something differently.
As I'm writing this, I'm appreciating how my new surroundings have invited other routines, though I still feel as though I'm in the early stage of being here and am mostly watching what I'm drawn to. In a future postcard, I'll be sure to reflect on what these new ones look like.