Category Archives: black and white photography

To Bee Or Not To Bee

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Bee Suit

Bee Suit

Bee On Lavender

Bee On Lavender

I never thought I’d have the chance to learn beekeeping, particularly in the Los Angeles area, but the Los Angeles County Beekeepers Association offers classes on beekeeping. Who knew? For $10 per household, which procures membership in the association, you have free access to these classes, most of which are held at Bill’s Bees, Bill Lewis’s bee yard in the hills of the Angeles National Forest. I was amazed at how many people showed up for the class on the first day. Bill’s Bees is tucked back into a canyon, down a narrow, winding, partially paved road, and yet we found ourselves in a long convoy all heading for the same destination. After the cluster of chairs in a barn-like structure filled up, it was standing room only for everyone else, close to 100 people altogether.

Bill and his fellow beekeepers are experts on bees and there is much to learn. Many attendees took notes, including myself. The first two classes were mainly instructional with some demonstrations on how beehives are constructed. It was the third class that I was longing for, where we would have to wear bee suits as we’d be introduced to the bees themselves.

Mark Winston says in his book, Bee Time, “Walking into an apiary is intellectually challenging and emotionally rich, sensual and riveting.” He’s not kidding. It’s a full-body experience, walking up to an open hive where hundreds of bees fill the air with the vibrations of their buzzing, where you smell the thick, sweet aroma of wax and honey. It’s hypnotic, watching the intricacies of their flight patterns as they exit and enter the hive. They are all around, bumping into my netted hood, landing on my suit, although miraculously, they don’t bump into each other. It was hard to get close to one of the many hives for very long given how many people were there in their suits. One woman started hyperventilating with panic in the midst of so many bees. I wanted to sit down and let myself be lulled into a nap by their collective hum. When I was finally able to get close to one of the open hives, I got to hold one of the frames, covered with bees and wax. There were bees attending to newly emerging bees…..bees being born before my eyes. Leaning in closer, we got to hear the individual song of the queen deep in the hive.

Although it’s not practical to keep a hive on our own small property, it was worth it just to stand in the midst of so many bees, like being invited into an exclusive club. I’ve been able to do that, on a less numerous scale and with less fear of being stung, with hoards of hummingbirds flying in and around our backyard feeders. The bees are a more intense crowd, driven by a collective purpose. I was merely a privileged observer.

Only Time Can Tell

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Anemone

Anemone

Most of the time, the only music I listen to is jazz or classical, or some recommended artist. I don’t spend much time in the world of sound beyond having it as a backdrop to whatever I’m doing. Recently, I discovered a young sound artist who posts his work in places like SoundCloud because he began using an image of mine as his website header. I reached out to him about the image use, and in the process, I began listening to his work. Seakrecy creates tracks that are beautiful, mournful, haunting, and sometimes provoking. I’ve never had an image of mine paired with sound before, and it makes me look at my work differently…..it makes me hear an image.

This particular image accompanies his track, “Only Time Can Tell.” Audible poetry.

 

Peace On Earth

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Peace On Earth

Peace On Earth

As much as it has almost become a cliche, peace on earth, as a reality, remains elusive, but we have to believe it’s still possible. Big peace takes time, but little moments of peace are always possible–like not getting enraged every time someone cuts you off on the freeway, or someone butts in front of you in a line. I try to remind myself I never know what’s going on in another person’s life that drives their behavior. Yes, I still yell at bad freeway drivers, but I try to reign in my animosity and give other humans the benefit of the doubt. I know I’m grateful for every time someone does that for me. Little moments of peace–we can all create those, and perhaps they will begin to add up, so that rudeness and lack of compassion become the exception and not the norm.

Confession

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Dragon Fruit

Dragon Fruit

Dragon Tongue Beans

Dragon Tongue Beans

Three Bitter Melons 30x30_smaller

Bitter Melons

I buy fruits and vegetables just so I can photograph them. Is there a twelve-step program for this? While many times we’ll eventually eat the subject, we did not eat the melons, or the beans (which do taste like regular string beans), or the dragon fruit (although I like dragon fruit).

It’s difficult to go through a farmer’s market without my camera, and with it, Joe is forced to carry all our purchases. A question I hear more and more when I load up a bag with some unusual (for us) items: “Are we actually going to eat this?” I don’t see this ending anytime soon. I fall in love with organic shapes and textures and the way they hold the light.

My name is Kristina and I am powerless over produce.

Zen and the Art of Golf

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Angry Golf

Angry Golf

I’m always being told that playing golf (like photography for that matter) requires a certain Zen frame of mind. I’m beginning to understand that, and I’m beginning to allow myself to enjoy the game, in spite of all the slices, shanks, three and four putts, or lost balls. There’s a course near where we live that’s both beautiful and difficult, where going after an out-of-bounds ball might mean rappeling into a canyon or coming face-to-face with a rattlesnake. I’ve had to hit around large bucks and coyotes lounging in cool, grassy areas next to fairways. Once, I witnessed a bobcat trot past me down the cart path toward the clubhouse. And yet…..the game, or how well one plays the game, can get under the skin. More than once, I’ve heard other players’ loud expletives echoing throughout the hills. Sometimes those expletives have been mine. I’ve seen other players throw clubs, but I’ve never seen the results of someone breaking a club over a tree trunk, until recently. Angry golf is not fun, and it’s the furthest one can get from a Zen state of mind. The day I found this broken club was during one of my best games, a game where I was able to stay in that Zen place from the first hole to the eighteenth. So, I keep this image to remind me of the importance of maintaining a certain level of detachment, something useful in other areas of life as well. But on the golf course, I’m reminded of Kevin Spacey’s character in the film American Beauty, who says “It’s hard to stay mad when there’s all this beauty in the world.”

Samhain: Honoring the Dead

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Honoring the Dead

Honoring the Dead

For me, Halloween is no longer about costumes and candy. It’s a chance to honor the dead, all those who have influenced and touched our lives, human and non-human.  Every year, my husband and I gather photos and spread them on an altar, light candles, and place family heirlooms or keepsakes along with offerings of food and drink for the departed.

Samhain is a pagan holiday celebrating the Celtic New Year that predates Halloween as we know it. It’s a day meant to honor the ancestors and the cycle of life and death.

Samhain Prayer

This is the night when the gateway between
our world and the spirit world is thinnest.
Tonight is a night to call out those who came before us.
Tonight we honor our ancestors.
Spirits of our ancestors, we call to you,
and we welcome you to join us for this night.
We know you watch over us always,
protecting us and guiding us,
and tonight we thank you.

(common Samhain prayer)

The End of a Season

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Dried

Dried

Ah, when to the heart of a man                                                                                                Was it ever less than a treason                                                                                          To go with the drift of things,                                                                                                  To yield with a grace to reason,                                                                                         And bow and accept the end                                                                                                  Of a love or a season?

Robert Frost, “Reluctance”