Beth Thompson Photography

Listen to Bartram on Spanish Moss, of the Pineapple family:

Close Up of Spanish Moss by Beth Thompson

Wafting in the wind…

I observed an incredible sight on St. Simon’s Island recently, on the river beside Fort Frederica. There was a powerful wind, so strong that I braced my body against it to hold my camera steady. I wanted to shoot at a slow shutter speed to show the motion of the Spanish Moss in the wind. In a wind like that, its easy to see how cartloads of moss could be torn off the trees.

Windblown by Beth Thompson

I think pretty…

Spanish Moss Cathedral by Beth Thompson

William thinks practical…

I recently read The Ragged Edge of the World: Encounters at the Frontier Where Modernity, Wildlands, and Indigenous People Meet, by Eugene Linden. He talks about how knowledge, hard won through experience with the Wildlands, is being lost as young people from the indigenous peoples throughout the world go to school and work in the cities.

Nylon versus Pineapples:

William’s passage on the myriad of uses that the settlers had for Spanish Moss remind me of that lost knowledge. According to Bartram, the moss can be used to stuff mattresses, chairs, saddles, and collars. In addition, it can be woven into strong ropes. What I especially love about his passage on the uses is his instructions on how to prepare the moss. But most importantly, if not for Bartram, this knowledge would be forever lost until we run out of nylon, synthetics, and plastic and are forced to use what Nature so generously provides us again.

Spanish Moss Dress-Up:

As a child, visiting my grandparents on Skidaway Island, I would drape Spanish Moss about my shoulders and head. I instinctively knew there were uses for this stuff that grew everywhere other than simply dressing up the trees and live oaks. It could dress me up too! In the way of adults, my grandfather quickly put an end to my shenanigans, telling me there were ticks in the Spanish Moss, just waiting to bite me. Having a horror of ticks, I let my Spanish Moss tresses go.

So today…

I take pictures of the moss and play with them. But William has inspired me, perhaps there is something I could make with the moss, now that I know how to clean it and treat it. Perhaps there is a tactile, textural piece of art in my future, ticks not withstanding.  For now, however, I will content myself with Fractals and Possible Perceptions, such as this:

Live Oak Fractal by Beth Thompson

And this:Spanish Moss Possible Perception by Beth Thompson

Listen to William’s description of a meadow of wildflowers containing Trout Lily’s, or Erythronium maculatum, as he called them:

Trout Lilies Blooming on the Moss by Beth Thompson

A disconnect.

What stood out to me the most about my recent jaunt into Madison county, where I encountered these Trout Lilies, was the contrast between Bartram’s experience and mine. Imagine, if you will, Bartram wandering alone through Nature’s glory, when all of a sudden, in pops a modern nymph, complete with iPhone and some major drama over a boyfriend. Huh?

Nevertheless…

I persevered under these circumstances, accompanied not only by my friend (and her iPhone) but also by my faithful, and my  oh-I-am-so-happy-to-be-outside puppy-dog.

Happy Dog Running by Beth Thompson

And the Trout Lilies were out in their glory…

I was amazed to see these little yellow flowers all about, carpeting some sunny areas, already in full bloom. Its February, but February in Georgia, and its been an incredibly mild winter at that.

So as my friend talked her way, I photographed my way, and Luna splashed her way,

I came up with some new material, new material to make art out of, plus new material for an art submission. The call for art just showed up with my name on it at my day job one day. It required work from local counties, none of which was Clarke, but one of which was Madison. So off to the Bartram Trail in Madison I went, and instead of getting to the Broad River he traveled on, I discovered these Trout Lilies.

Messing around late at night

I created some of my Fractals, the first in some time, out of one Trout Lily picture. Below I placed the starting image:

Which became this as my eyes glazed over and began to cross…..

Because creating fractals is quick and easy for me, they are the digital equivalent to sketching, I decided to move things around some more, so that the Mossy Roots with Trout Lily Blooming became this:

Of course, put together in this way, the Trout Lily looses some of its emphasis in the image, yet it creates new forms which are interesting in their own right, and finding the Trout Lily Blooming becomes more of a mystery of the image.

Here are Bartram’s words on Vines:

Let’s do the locomotion….

William Bartram’s awe and wonder at the locomotion of vines got me looking through my image files for pictures of that curling tendril he talks about. While I didn’t exactly find such a picture, I did discover that I have a thing for vines. I have created two Possible Perceptions out of pictures of vines. And vines show up again and again in my work. I love the way a vine’s loops and swirls and curves and swoops contrast with the straight, heaviness of a solid tree trunk. Vines often add curvy lines to my work where without them there would be none.

Panther Creek Possible Perception by Beth Thompson

Growth of vines as a metaphor….

I got to thinking about vines as a metaphor. I realized today that the Higher Power of my understanding doesn’t tell me what to do. Instead, She shows up as a longing, a desire, and proceeds to provide support for me to manifest my desires. So, a vine growing on the tree, the tree doesn’t tell the vine how to grow, how often to wrap itself around its truck, how high to reach. In fact, and you can’t talk about vines in the South without talking about kudzu, and kudzu may even kill a tree or a stand of trees in its quest for light, or pull a building down to the ground.

Kudzu Blossoming by Beth Thompson

The Quest for Light….

And the trees that the vines grow on, they simply support the vine’s desire for up, for light, for structure. But they don’t tell the vine to want these things, or tell the vine what to do.

And taking a further step back from the vine, to look at the tree. The earth and the sun may trigger the acorn to germinate, with a bit of help from the squirrels who buried it. But the tree’s quest for light, the taproot’s quest for water, that all belongs to the tree. Earth and Nature simply provide the structure, support, nutrients, and water for the acorn to become an oak.

Vine in the Oconee Forest by Beth Thompson

Earth, Water, and Sky….

And I realized my Higher Power may have given me the gift of creativity, but She doesn’t tell me how to use my creativity. When I do use it, She provides the support, the nutrients, the sunlight glancing off my glasses as I sit at the computer, the energy, the drive to create. But ultimately too, She gives me the power of choice, I can choose to write or photograph, to design a new pieces or simply edit a photoshoot. My Higher Power is a co-creator with me, just as the earth and the sun and water are with the tree. By themselves, Earth, Sun, and Water cannot create a tree. But without Earth, Sun and Water neither can an acorn create a tree. And without a vertical structure, such as a tree, a vine cannot climb.

Vine in the Forest by Beth Thompson

Are you the Vine or the Tree?

So, I started all this musing by asking myself if I was the vine or the tree. I realized that in regards to my Higher Power, I am the vine, leaning on the stability, solidity, and structure of the tree to carry me as I grow towards the light. But, sometimes in regards to my human relationships, I am the tree, allowing others to tag along in my upward growth, and sometimes being held back by their weight, because unlike my Higher Power, I am totally human, I am not a Goddess.

Panther Creek Vine Possible Perception by Beth Thompson

The Lesson of the Vine….

Understanding the lesson of the vine for me today allows me to see my relationships in a different light, both my relationship with a Power Greater than Myself, and my relationships to other people.  It’s a tangled thicket, and perhaps its time for me to cut though some of the vines to let my tree reach its full potential.  To hold each loved one gently in my palm and ask myself, is this relationship holding me back, or moving me forward? Where do I want to go next with this person? And gently release them. I think I will take some time with this over the next few weeks. Like the image below, the design of my life is still a work in progress….

Oconee Forest Vine Work in Progress by Beth Thompson