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These photographs may inspire you to develop a deeper connection with your higher self and the natural world. I am offering digital prints of the images displayed on this website between 4x6 inches to 5x7 to 8x10 inches (and up, upon request). See right side panel.



Black and white images are only available as darkroom prints by special arrangement. Please e-mail.





"I call forth that light to

penetrate my soul

and to activate my soul memory of freedom


and the original blueprint of my soul's destiny."



-El Morya on St. Germain's sacred violet flame of transmutation








Monday, June 27, 2011

New Service for Children

For donation I am exclusively doing energy work in my specialized way which includes reiki and pranic healing. It can be in-person or remote. Adult, please be present with child to avoid legal liability issues. I am no longer doing energy work on adults to simplify my practice. Please send e-mail to radiancenaturephotography@gmail.com for further information.

Thursday, June 23, 2011

Touched by a Rat

My goal was to have the living room completely clean and organized as a gift for my sister on her birthday. One darkened corner of the living room was particularly disgusting, which I chose to attack last, due to fact that unwanted houseguests had invaded during a long vacation when the house had been empty. (Some had two legs--the others, which followed--had four.)

So with a mask to cover my nose and willing hands, I set to work. I swept up large rodent droppings. I pulled out dust bunnies. I consolidated old pieces of cardboard, dated circulars, and wrapping paper. I then stared down at that creepy old cream-colored baby carriage, which had been stuffed with every un-necessary piece of junk imaginable. I was particularly put off by it because of the amazing diversity of crap in it--fabric scraps, clothing patterns, and bent plastic flower arrangements, among other things. I had to conjure up a certain degree of courage to attend to it. I dove right in, attacking layer after layer of difficult-to-reason-with clutter.

Then suddenly, my nose unexpectedly picked up an offensive odor. I passed it off and kept digging. There it was: The remains of a dead rat, perfectly in tact save for its flesh, perfectly laid across a miniature wooden rocking cradle. The wavy hair on it was so shiny, it glistened. "Like golden fleece," I thought. The small skull and coarse tail belied its gleaming costume. Just underneath the cradle was a large doll with rolling blue eyes and long auburn hair, covered in its droppings.

How gross, yet how moving.

Now you see, I don’t have an attraction to the macabre. I tend to avoid it at all cost. It had been clear that the rat was poisoned. But the tale the rat told was profound. In its last hours, the rat had gone to the most nurturing place it could find on the planet. And no question that it has been in pain. This really, truly bothered me. Poison was the preferred method of extermination for household invaders, and luckily two human females kept it from happening since I had moved in. You can guess who the second female was.

But the strange thing is, this rat hadn’t chosen a ratsy, nesty, dirty old corner behind some old shelving units or floorboards to die in. It went to the sweetest place of nurturing humanly imaginable. The wooden cradle was most likely a collectible, and it had probably been in a child’s hands, as had the doll, as had the baby carriage…all soaked with human sweat, salt, and body oils.

Well, there you have it. Although the rat’s life had clearly been forsaken by humans, it chose the most nurturing, loving symbols of humanity to expire in. That is how much animals love us.

A Little Extra Nudging from St. Theresa (from a chain mail LOL)



Look at the picture (of St. Theresa), read the prayer and then make a wish and read the prayer again. I am picking people who have touched my life and who I think would want to receive this. In case you are not aware, Saint Theresa is known as the Saint of the Little Ways, meaning she believed in doing the little things in life well and with great love... She is represented by roses. May everyone who receives this message be blessed. Saint Theresa's Prayer Cannot be deleted. REMEMBER to make a wish before you read the prayer. That's all you have to do. There is nothing attached. Just share this with people and see what happens on the fourth day. Prayer is one of the best free gifts we receive... Read the prayer below. Saint Theresa's Prayer:


May today there be peace within. May you trust God that you are exactly where you are meant to be. May you not forget the infinite possibilities that are born of faith. May you use those gifts that you have received, and pass on the love that has been given to you. May you be content knowing you are a child of God.


Let this presence settle into your bones, and allow your soul the freedom to sing, Dance, praise and love. It is there for each and every one of us.

Notice to Those Considering Theft of My Creative Material




I know you are out there--and I know who you are. Stated clearly in my blog are terms of use of my material. Don't do it. You have enough of your own creative material so you don't have to carry out these malicious or spiteful activities to express an idiotic form of vengeance. Besides--what for? A seize and desist order will follow.

"At Least She is Still Alive"



I am not so sure.

Tuesday, June 7, 2011

On Owning Living Nature

(This essay was originally posted as a response to killing Mother's blog post, Owning Paradise: Snapshots from the Edge.)


Thank you, killing Mother, for your thoughtful essay.

As a social ecologist, nature photographer, and empath, I have experienced similar revelations--and have put some to pen--but not so eloquently as you in this essay.


It is painful to see the widening gap between rich and poor, especially since the poor once had rights to living nature; now it appears that access to nature (and its resources) is becoming a privilege for the very wealthy. I think about the Mexican farmers who are now gradually being forced to purchase water from increasingly privatized supplies controlled by the likes of Nestle.

I once read that the names of housing developments are often derived from the animal or habitat they displace, such as "Fox Run," "The Owl's Nest," "Crystal Grove," etc. It is all very sickening.

Watching the world through a lens and then presenting the image to the world is vaguely understood as a dishonest process (at least by omission,) and lately, I have been waking up in the middle of the night thinking of my studies in college, and books like Camera Lucida. I think about how the digital encroachment into photography helped soup up photographs so that roses became "punched up pink," and how an ordinary-looking photograph could look somewhat extra-ordinary with software modifications.

Also coming to mind from reading the Owning Paradise essay is a story that Murray Bookchin shared with us at the Social Ecology intensive quite a number of years ago: That fish--just as we are--are sentient beings, and Murray shared an example of how one fish tried to keep another propped up in the water as it was dying...

These strange stories stay with me in the wee hours. Your story, killing Mother, will keep me up too.


Sunday, March 6, 2011

Spring Thaws, No Shame


Imagine the card of the Tower, bursting in flames, its proverbial lid blown off-- exposing all the lies and pretenses, and all that false strength amounting to nothing but frail egos and human weakness. Now imagine the Tower being upside down. Imagine, for a moment, if all the inequities seemed to collide into one, fairly brief period in your life in all areas--love, career, family relationships, friendships--even in health. How in God's name could this be so?
I have been reading the Magus of Strovolos, a book written by Kryiacos C Markides, and it's about the life of Daskalos, a healer from Cypress. His explanation is: karma. Not only do we have the karma that has been incurred from previous lifetimes and this one; we also have the karma that we can unconsciously take on for others. Then there are the elementals--which I call thought forms--which cycle themselves back into our lives in a rather disturbing way if we haven't been thinking correctly. And in my own experience, even the efforts to eliminate negative thoughts forms (including those of others) has them coming back to us in surprisingly unpleasant ways. You know, that "kicked-in-the-teeth" feeling? (You thought you won that battle? Think again. You haven't won the war.) Finally, have we have forgotten to pray, especially for others? That is the surest way to eliminate bad karma.
How did I come to the title for this post? Spring brings on rain, and rain erases pain--at least symbolically. Winter's ice cold as a contractive force brings on the bitter effect of sometimes unbearable pain--often the pain that comes from shame carried for others. Sometimes not of our conscious choosing.
Our souls long for righteousness. But now is not the time to judge--after all, Easter is coming, and that is what Jesus advised. The inequities are no longer stuck in the mud; blood runs downstream. Whereas the winter hides the lies frozen in the mud--which didn't budge--the rain has them exposed and washes them away (and the liars with them, we might hope!).
So instead of symbolically going through the burning, as in the Tower, the misdeeds causing our sufferings become part of The Well (see the I Ching, and see the well themes running through a previous post). The Well can absorb all poisons, gives the life force freely, and can also run dry. (I assure you, as one who has given too freely, I know what it is like for the well to run dry.) The effects can be devastating. But it is spring again, time to laugh and cry without reservations, and to no longer be shy or show too much restraint. (Just watch the poisons, okay?)
Time to start all over again, and start again clean. From a Christian perspective as well--that is the result of what Christ did for us.
And have a glass of water. Go to the spring.
Blessings.

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

LIFE

by Julio Morell on Tuesday, January 18, 2011 at 12:14pm
The more dangerous screams for help are usualy the ones you never hear.
the silent scream is the loudest of all, it can be heard by only those who know how to listen.
the pain and anguish are hard not on the ears but more on the soul as it colors your life
with their pain and sorrow, it pulls on your strength and grips at your heart and claws in dispare
as it slowly falls apart. a day in the life will open your eyes will strengthen your soul and
fill you with steel. the screams of the silent can never be missed if ignored its the blow that
can be felt by one and all. those are the ones that are the most unexpected, those are the ones
that cut the deepest. reach to the stars , and reach for the skys may all your guides hear the cry and
all come alive The clarions call is sounding out loud, look to the skys and Feel in your soul.
the Salvation is flying swift to your side may they reach you with Wisdom, with strength and with, pride. Now is the time, now is the place and to falter is not the path you can take. Understand the Darkness
and swim in its waters learn what dark things live and thrive in the deep and have faith that your light
will keep you safe and secure, the darkness in you gives you access to see all the horrors of life that
must never be, what can happen won't, deny it the power to ravage your soul and then spread your wings
and fly. Prove to yourself in each incarnation that you can overcome your screams.
you're alive.


Have faith, dry your eyes, survive.

*done with some edits for clarity--Nancy

Thursday, January 13, 2011

The loser's winnings; the winner's loss...

I am responsible for caretaking the ducks and chickens in this household, and in January, the temperature is now going down into the teens. The coop is old, leaky, and the water feeders are freezing up, despite the electric heaters. The ducks have been crying hoarsely in the last few days—the snow I used to put in the heaters stopped melting. The water from the new well had been contaminated with silt, which makes human beings sick—so I had been resorting to hand-bucketing from the stream since the end of summer. I would run back and forth from the stream to give the avians a fresh supply. This became more and more difficult as the stream edge started to freeze. And I had to position myself on thin ice to get more, so I gave up. I started to take water from the tap.

Today, the water I used instantly froze within seconds of me pouring it over the older, frigid, layer. And this afternoon, when I came home from work—one of chickens was crying, crying—as if to say, “I am cold, I am cold, would you please help me—is this all you can do? Please.”
There are tragic consequences to neglect. I wish the owners could do more…but I am not the “owner,” only the caretaker. And although I can make suggestions, it is not under my control. I have communicated as best I can for the animals, and I have to let it go.

We observe in this culture that acquisition is a sign of prestige, success. In many ways, that is so. But wherein lies the difference between the ownership of an object and its slavery; the enjoyment of another and its violation? How do these express themselves symbolically in feminist undertakings? Can there be a healthy boundary drawn between the two?

I am reminded of the story of the fox, as told in an old biodynamic calendar: As potential pet to a person wanting to "own" her, the fox warns its future keeper of the profound losses that will occur in this kind of engagement, and what the costs are to both the caretaker and to the cared-for. The fox explains to the owner all of the responsibilities the owner would have towards it once she would be domesticated, and that she, the fox--would lose her wildness forever. Such was the grave awareness that would come along with the responsibilities that this new owner would have.

The sad conclusion is obvious: the animal can experience one of two tragic endings: the loss of her wild identity--and therefore--spirit, and/or the loss of the love of her owner.

What is the message here? The spirit world tells us: something is remiss in our desire to tame, and therefore, to own. Plain and simple: ownership of the wild is a violation. My message? Leave an animal to its own devices in the wild (if it is as such), or give the responsibility to someone else. Symbolically? Let the other person grow (or die) on her own accord--or give her up. Or, allow for another (person) to come into play/into the position of responsibility. The mere implication of ownership is power over another, and therefore, of potential abuse, which is costly. An animal will take its chances in the wild; a domesticated one is now in a cage or other constraint, relying on a human being for food, water, and love. Even if all three are present, the animal knows what exists on the other side of those bars—freedom. Animals want to survive as much as we do. But do we honestly think for a minute that they think they are doing *better* under our control? Are they living a longer, healthier life, maybe? Experiencing safety? Maybe.

And what if the owner grows bored or tired of the responsibility? What if this new “toy” suddenly grows old? (Are we not reminded of the man who takes a beautiful woman under his wing into marriage? The love an owner has for the pet usually grows old much more suddenly than the animal biologically does. Similarly--the man usually loses interest in the woman as she begins to look less enticing—as she ages.)

.
In another example—I am reminded of all the barn cats living (and dying) in Iowa, a state I lived in for many years. How many human generations back—did humans stopped caring for and spaying their feline animals. What was the result? Overpopulation, disease, and high mortality rates for neglected felines. Not to mention the nuisances these animals create for human beings. Who is at fault?

So what are the lessons here, why is it in this blog? Think twice about offering your love to someone, or something, unless you are ready for the long haul of karmic responsibility. An animal’s life purpose is to express itself in its full potentiality…as is a human being’s…A dog or other animal (or wife or other domestic partner) can discern whether you love it, or bought it because of the idea of it—over time. Are you expressing cruelty through neglect? Is there a potential owner or caretaker more capable then YOU to take care of this breathing, feeling, being? Do you recognize how indebted you are to this animal (or person in relationship)? Then LOVE it. Exercise it. Keep it clean, give it good food. Keep it warm. Speak to it. Appreciate it. Cry with it. Own it, truly own it. Take your responsibility. Then you will know on the day it dies how important you were to it and that what this wild creature gave up for you was WORTH it. Blessed Be--Nancy