Fill the Fu%^*#^ Frame
An investment of time, focus, life-force, love.
One of my photography instructors and a phenomenal guide to seeing simply is Rikki Cooke. I turned pages in National Geographic as a young girl, learning and dreaming about faraway lands, and quite likely leaned in closely to his images on the printed page. In 2017, during my first photography workshop on the island of Molokai, “Bear” guided me to pause and follow the instinct when something would turn my head with a wow.
This year, during my fourth, and what may have been the last April photo workshop at the Hui Ho’Olana, he reminded us, “fill the fu%^&*# frame.”
I thought okay, in addition to his admonition to BREatheeee, it’s time to really lean in, see. Discover what moves me. Stops me. Get closer.
In Seeing Simply, he writes,
“Each of us has a vision, a pure way of seeing that is uniquely our own. We are like a one-of-a-kind of camera with an unlimited film supply, recharging batteries and a storage recording bank that edits as we get older. And yet, we don't realize how incredibly unique, how valuable our individual way of seeing really is. Each one of us is captured in a different way by an image.”
For the week, I experimented with seeing, becoming curious about what moves me, and really leaning in, way closer than I usually would.
How simply can I see? What am I viewing?
Though in action it may sound as if this was a thoughtful thinking process for me, it really isn’t. I tend to feel my way through the world, with sensations and intuition, so I followed this impulse, giving full permission to notice what I notice, where my curiosity takes me, and what movement, color, light, and sound speaks to me.
On this day, it was the first time I would visit this beach with a Hui photography workshop. I’d previously been introduced to it when a friend on island took me years ago, and two other friends had told me how to find it—each giving the instruction not to tell anyone about it. It is definitely one of my top ten most beloved spots on the planet to date. A particularly FTFF moment this day would cause me to stop in a location where time tends to also stop for me.
On this late afternoon, half an hour beyond high tide, most of our group would stay on the rocks above the beach delighting in the waves and extraordinary colors. Many of us spontaneously erupted and called out “thank you” to the universe when an especially spectacular wave set met the shore. A friend had made her way to a rock cropping at the far side of the cove, where I knew, as the tide receded, a rock would share drippings of saltwater coming ashore and then returning to the ocean.
Kiawe grows on the island of Molokai, and although it has several beneficial uses, it is not native to the Hawaiian Islands, and is also considered an invasive species. Its thorns will pierce a rubber slipper, congregate along high tide lines, and drop in the intersection where grass and shrubs meet sand. More than once I’ve done a swift let up of weight on my bare foot when I begin to feel the bite of a kiawe thorn. My sneakers or flip flops are known to have embedded thorns in their soles. Yet, the rugged and gnarled trunks offer intriguing shapes, and often tell a story.
I timed the sets, made my way down the rocks to the beach, and paused multiple times at patterns in the sand, light bouncing, shapes along the shoreline, and mostly breathing with the magic in this place and time.
Earlier I’d watched a spear fisherman make his way over to where I too was headed, and attempt to swim beyond the shore break to deeper waters. The ocean spit him back to shore, and he departed, to go fetch more weights for his belt. Truly this day was an open the present experience.
My intent was to avoid leaving footprints on the sand, since the tide was dropping, and I knew some of the photographers would appreciate stretches of undisturbed sand, without a person in the image.
I made my way carefully along the sandy berm of the cove, until I reached a point where I needed to look down to avoid stepping on any thorns or catching branches from the kiawe.
Pausing, I looked towards the horizon, and a midair branch stopped me in my tracks.
I gazed with appreciation. Leaned in. Then FTFF made sense in a new fashion.
Grace in motion.
Why does it matter to fill the fu*&^%# frame (FTFF)?
To bend closer and notice what captures your interest?
It’s not about “paying” attention—instead for me it is being supersized present.
Showing up, slowing down. No payment or transaction, instead an investment of time, focus, life-force, love. Connection.
From this perspective, we will reflect consciously as a witness in the moment, and perhaps later, ponder what is revealed when someone or something captures our attention.
When we open the present of the present moment, there’s an unspoken reality occurring—our past led us to this time, and the present is simultaneously unfurling into the future.
In this time, the eternal now becomes circular and all-encompassing. We live in both linear 3D time, and eternity.
We can consciously offer our future self a favor in present time through our choices and discernment.
I believe this is partially why photography intrigues and appeals to me—as a spiritual practice, and for its pure pleasure—I am in the moment when I am invited or commanded by something external to me, that creates an inner spirit connection of beauty, heartbreak, wonder, awe, or pure presence.
Perhaps too, photography develops my contemplative nature, in the way William McNamara describes contemplation as simply, “a long loving look at the real.”
A week later in Alaska, the magic of this beach time continues from my “FTFF” mantra. It’s evening, still light at 10:00 p.m., the Kenai River is thawing, and my three Labrador retrievers lay across my legs, pinning me in place. I write. I remember. I begin to bubble with the beauty of that April day in Molokai.
Curiosity deepens; where can this one graceful Kiawe branch and FTFF guide me? How can I open the present, again?
I become even more aware that I desire to live with my cup overflowing—to lean so close and taste the lusciousness of life, no matter how painful (like those Kiawe thorns) or how convoluted and rough life can be. I desire to grow, reach for the light, and dance, rooted with delight.
May peace be with you however life is showing up, and however you are showing up
May you give permission to turn towards what brings you curiosity, a wow, or what captures your attention and love
May you even lean into what pisses you off, hurts, or is hard and invasive, so this too may reveal what you need to know and understand
Together may we FTFF of our unique and distinct lives so growth, transformation, and appreciation overflow, and our senses, spirit, and breath is a vital dance with life
Incredible! The way you have expressed your thoughts and experiences of the day and the discussions during the week is amazing. The images are the icing on the cake. I have reread this several times and still find more for the soul. Home Run! 👏👏👏
I absolutely love your ability to capture light & life in your photographs and share your inspiration.