My earliest memories are peering through these eyes at the world
These eyes, the inner being that saw through these eyes
Wishing to communicate before I had words to form into sentences..
myself now looking through these eyes
using images and words…
having lived a longer time of joys and sorrows as life is lived.
Yet the same being peering through these eyes still sees.
In the late night,
days of sun or darkness,
cold of winter,
heat of summer,
mildness of many in betweens…
Not searching for vision,
not asking, this magic appears
touching something within.
Inside warmth of the crackling fire
Sliding the heavy glass door open
Cold blast of winters chill swirls
Passed me and into the room
The oak standing tall beyond the pines
Covered in floating snow,
Through the screen of summer
All of time fills the space
the camera between us
inside looking out..
Of the house
Through the door
Through a window
Through the lens
Through these eyes
Back within the being
A connection to being here
I now notice that all of my photographic work has been from this place,
This place, within and wishing to communicate what is felt through this seeing seer.
This body of new work, inspired on a snow stormy day in 2004, is again full of this wish.
This is my search in my life and in my photography…
Here in this place
Yet not alone at all.
Martha Henrickson February 2005