PHOTOGRAPHER LINDA GRIFFITH ON THE SECRET LIFE OF LIGHT

Griffith with Comfort and Hugger
Photo Courtesy of Tammi Isaac

My story about Tucson photographer Linda Griffith’s drive to the Arctic Ocean with her two dogs has been published in the Summer issue of The Bark Magazine!  Read more about Griffith’s spiritual migration to the North here:

CONVERSATIONS WITH LIGHT

(An excerpt from the book in progress)

By Judy Jennings

Copyright © 2015

            It’s a moonlit Tucson evening, and Linda Griffith’s very small living room has just poured twenty people out into her yard, where they appear to still be caught under the spell of what they’ve seen inside.  No one even seems to notice the full moon splayed over the Catalina Mountains, or the play of light and shadow across the yard at the edge of town.  All conversation is about what people have just seen indoors.

            After five years, professional photographer Linda Griffith has finally narrowed down the 20,000 photographs she took on her year-long drive to the Arctic Ocean to 75 for an exhibit called “The Secret Life Of Light,” also available as a book.  This is the opening of the exhibit, and to celebrate, Griffith has put together a slide show of the trip. 

            Despite research suggesting the attention span of the average human is about eight seconds (less than that of a goldfish), this crowd just sat through 750 slides and is now begging for more.  Apparently, people want to see more pictures of the bears, and Griffith promises she’ll deliver on that when she hosts the second half of the slide show next month.  Then conversation turns back to The Secret Life Of Light.  We’ve already learned that the exhibit is grouped into three sections:  Middle Ground, Vast, and Conversations.  Now someone is asking for clarification.

            “What do you mean by Conversations?” comes the question.  “What kind of conversations?”

            In response, Griffith looks up at the moon and lets the light fall over her for a moment before saying anything.  Then she begins talking about what it felt like to be above the 66^th parallel.

“It’s as if the earth is aware that you’re there.  The sense I had in that place was that this was not just about me looking at the land, but that the land and the light were looking at me, too.  There was a feeling of  ‘We’re glad you’re here, look at this!’  There’s an interaction that goes on between the clouds and the earth.  It feels very conscious. 

“I think at one point most of the globe was like that, and because of all the changes we’ve made, we’ve lost this.  Everywhere, I think, was like the Arctic initially.  Everywhere spoke.  The woods had consciousness.  Native Americans knew that.  They talked about it as family and understood it as family.

 “Sure, that seemed goofy to Europeans who had already developed and destroyed their land to make cities, because they’d never experienced it before.  Then they were so busy developing this land that I don’t think they ever listened, and so here we are. I think that’s part of why we’re so careless, we have no idea what we’ve done.

“I’m hoping the photographs can communicate some of what that is.  I tried to keep the emphasis on what IS there, and what it speaks to, and not so much about what we’ve done, because we’ve done it, and we’re not going to turn that around."

Somehow Griffith makes this sound like an affirmation, rather than a statement of defeat, and continues with quiet certainty.

“Everything in its own way contributes to sustaining life, even though it may not appear that way at the time.  Invariably the turn things take is life-affirming.  Even dying is life-affirming.  I like to say when people are resisting a situation to just throw yourself into the unknown part of it.  Whatever it is, just make it more, and you’ll come out the other side.”