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Reflections on Art and Life
by Jim Ulrich
	Connections
	Bridges are rare in nature, whether formed of stone or plant matter.  Yet here we see two structures joined by a delicate paper strip bathed in sunlight. Could these bridges be subtle invitations to connect?   "Connecting" with other human beings is all too rare.  Fear, ignorance, hatred, alienation and just plain old differences keep us from realizing our oneness with others.  Art helps us see the bridges, the connections between ourselves, nature and others.  Love is the vehicle that propels us across that which divides us.
			Blindness
			I had just spent ten minutes standing on a bench, aiming my camera towards this subject, which was less than a foot away. A passerby approached me and asked, "Are you taking a picture of the bat?" "What bat?" I asked. Then I looked and saw an adult bat, asleep, hanging under the object I was photographing! It was literally in front of my eyes the whole time I had been there, yet I had not seen it. It made me wonder, "how much else in life am I missing?" And, "what can I do to open my eyes and see the world as it is?"
Surprise
Whether we realize it or not, we go through life with blinders on. We choose what to perceive, and we have already determined to a large extent what we will see. Before we can open our eyes and our mind, we have to let go of the reality we think we know. Emptying one's mind is no easy trick, but one obstacle is fear of having nothing. To grow is to give up the security of what we think we have and what we think we know. The flower you are looking at may be here for only today. The bird's song you are hearing will never be heard again. The stranger you meet in the store may become your best friend for life. Surprises are all around us.
	Non-sense
	Perception is not reality -- reality is. That I choose to see here two crocodiles sunning themselves at the edge of a slimy pond does not make them real - not even to me. It simply is a convention, a kind of shorthand that makes it easier for me to deal with reality and to communicate with you about how I see the world. Such symbols save me the energy required if I were truly to behold what is. At times it may be convenient to reduce reality to symbols, but I always lose something in the process. I rob myself of wonder and true understanding, and ultimately this ideation prevents me from connecting with nature. Why must I make "sense" out of data, even when the result is non-sense?
The Myth of Knowing
When people see this photograph, their first question is "what is it?" I enjoy entertaining their guesses, then revealing the "answer": eucalyptus bark shot on Maui. It wasn't until two years after this picture that I learned the particular species: deglupta. Immediately I did a little research on the Internet, found over 160 websites that refer to the deglupta variety of eucalyptus, and realized what a vast amount of knowledge exists about a single family of trees. Others have catalogued myriad details about this plant species: hardwood characteristics, suitability for furniture, ideal growth climate, etc. Yet the more I learned about deglupta eucalyptus in the abstract, the less I knew about this photograph. Gradually, I have learned to let go of my "knowledge," so that I may see the beauty that is before my eyes.
	Illusions
	This seaweed has been removed from its life-sustaining element and will shortly die.  These barnacles cling precariously to a dead piece of driftwood, temporarily washed ashore.  Whether they will be returned to the sea is a crapshoot, dependent on the forces of wind and wave and moon. The picture is deceiving, and so are the false impressions of security and wellness I project to others and myself. To what illusions do I cling, in the hopes that they will bring me a richer, fuller life? What are the risks of letting go? And what are the forces outside myself with which I would do well to cooperate?
Boundaries
A tree's bark is its boundary. A border in space, it defines what is the tree and what is not. Bark is also a protective barrier, vital to maintaining the balance between the life that lies within and external forces that can cripple or kill. This fungus feeds on bark that is already dead, a temporary buffer. I too have boundaries, limits that I set and enforce when others would infringe on who I am or compromise what is important to me. Sometimes I am not happy that boundaries seem to isolate me, yet they are vital to maintaining the integrity of who I am. Boundaries are life!
		Imperfections
		Selecting which of my photos to share with others requires artful choices. Sometimes I am forced to choose between two pictures that are almost identical. One of them might be more "perfect" - that is, it better fits my romantic stereotype of the way nature "should" be. Its pattern might be more regular, so that as the eye enters it and follows its natural flow, there are no hindrances or detours. Yet I am learning also to choose images that are less than "perfect," ones that have some small anomaly or imperfection. They give the eye something to dwell on and ponder: "why is that there?" or "where is the balance in that?" Now I think of such distractions as surprises - mysteries to be witnessed, never fully understood. And I embrace them as keys to acceptance, portals to seeing true harmony in nature.
Out of Focus
A few years ago my eyes changed, and the glasses I had then did not enable me to see clearly things between two and five feet away. I would need either bifocals or reading glasses. My choice was to wear reading glasses most of the time. This solution enabled me to function perfectly well in life, only using my former eyeglasses for driving at night. The result has been that I see clearly everything up to ten or fifteen feet away, but that beyond that, the world is slightly out of focus. A subtle lesson in this for me was that I don't need to know all the details. I have more energy to concentrate on what I can impact, now that I'm worrying less about what I can't control anyway.

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