Posts Tagged ‘Korina Kempf’

The Gift

Friday, December 25th, 2009

A Christmas Card
It is Christmas Eve 2009. Christmas means a lot of different things to many people. The transformative and renewing aspects of the holiday have always struck me with the most repetitive sort of impact. Each year it is the same, yet different.

This season was a case in point along that theorem. I pondered that earlier this evening as my girlfriend Donna and I hummed along upcoast in our little Mazdaspeed, under the fading amber afterglow of a brilliant day, this eve before Christmas. The Channel Islands stood in purple shadow relief, as bright streaks of warm color stroked the deepening blue hues of sky.

Orange and blue, sistered each other in the dappled surface of a very calm sea.  It is my favorite color combination, and something I always enjoy capturing in my photography. Warm and cool: polar opposites in the energy spectrum. They complement each other, and in the realm of human emotion signify harmony. I won’t get into it here and now. You either get that or you don’t. It is fine either way.

I begin to meditate on the world and my affect in it each season. It is an accelerative process that slowly begins and follows a thread. Then things begin to drop into place confirming my line of thought. This year it was all about friends, and how mine define me. Without their light, I am not too great. I actually sort of suck. At everything. My one redeeming virtue however, seems to be that I recognize greatness, even when that remarkable thing may be hidden within an extravagantly formed, carefully wrought disguise.

I made a list yesterday, of all the people that I know whose light defines my path and art. I stopped counting at around sixty but the troop is far larger than that. In the past couple weeks, many have come to mind, and when they do, I ponder them and what they bring to the world and the table of my life. I give thanks, and ask for God to bless them, and pray that I can be a better friend.

There are far too many to ever physically touch on this very sacred holiday.

Umm, holiday, holy day, set apart day, sacred day: the celebration of the sacrament of gratitude. By grace and gratitude the entropy of this world sees the only real flow that it can. This season saw me get a special gift. So I now pass it along, as in doing so, the sacred nature of the gift will continue, and in its flow, transform and bless others. That is really what my work is about, the transference of blessing. I refuse to hide that light. It is probably why I am a photographer: the affinity for light thing.

Stanley Frantz and I met in the small surfboard factory of Dave Johnson in Goleta California around 1977. We entered the surfboard industry simultaneously. Over the years, our paths have repeatedly bisected.

Stan is unique, in that he has an artistic ability that allows him to communicate emotion in virtually any medium. Let that sink in. Painter, actor, writer, model, whatever form he eschews, Stan can make you feel. He has an innate ability that any aspiring artist would kill to possess.

But here is the interesting thing: he does not know it. I think this may be why it works so well. His mindset allows for him to portray a subject in complete honesty.  All that he does is uncontrived, and comes from an inner passion which burns with an intensity that few artists know.

He showed up almost capriciously here, in Ventura California this week. So I got to spend some time with him. We walked my town,  sat, stopped, I talked a little, but listened a lot. I learned many years ago that I would much rather sit and listen to a savant, than chatter about my own life and time. And Stanley obliged.

He told me a story. It did not come out all in one straight ahead tome, but in bits and pieces, in little glimpses proferred over the course of a 24 hour period. And as Stanley Frantz shared his life and world of the past 12 years since we had seen each other last, the story he told leveled me.

It was something America needs to hear, told by the son of a steel worker. The emotion, the breadth, depth, scope, and the timeliness of the story is transformative in its ability to generate hope. It gives a crystal clear view of how we affect our world, and how wonderfully crafted a human being truly is.

Stan Frantz was my Christmas present this year. I hope that by next year, the story I sent him back home to write on his idyllic farm in Pennsylvania, will be ready, to strengthen your heart and lighten your soul, and give you renewed hope for the future.

The experience sort of summed up Christmas for me. In this vignette, I saw the truth in the Bible verse that says: For God so loved the world, that He gave his only begotten son, that who ever believes on him, will be saved.

Everybody needs salvation. Especially those who think that they have already earned it.

Silent Night. Beautiful.

An encouraging Merry Christmas note from Seth Godin is here. (Always surprised at how he manages to be so timely.) Thanks Seth!

Merry Christmas friends. Thank you for the light you bring on a cool dark Christmas Eve, in Ventura California.

Life is Seasonal

Life Renews

Life Ornaments

Life Ornaments

Stanley Frantz at Kiley's

Stanley Frantz at Kiley's

The Gift

The Gift

Touch

Saturday, October 17th, 2009
Message

Message

It is not something I have any complete understanding of, but for some reason I recognize the touch of my friends and what may be affecting them. It often comes in the form of a subtle whisper. I have found that if I shut the heck up and just listen, the process applies quite dramatically in my work. I will experience new things as a result. That affects what I communicate to the world.  It changes my perception, as the imprint broadens who and what I am. I need that. My life would be cold porridge without it.

Last night at dinner, Donna and our friends Violeta and Korina were discussing travel and the ups and downs of the process. Sometimes we can be made to become quite uncomfortable by our situations and surroundings. Korina had just returned from Bali and been suffering a bit due to jetlag, culture crossover, and a few intermittent bouts with Bali Belly (the term for all ailments alimentary). She said something very wise. “I have learned that when I travel, it is not just about my experience. It is about the experience of the people who I meet, and the impression that I leave with them”. Touch. There it was. To have it, you must give it. You give when listening. Her wonderful blog is here.

As I work through the tremendous amount of post production from our Balinese trip, I am constantly reminded of how listening allows us forms of contact with a world we would normally never see, hear, taste or feel. I see exactly what I was listening to as I ply the pixel waters of this huge ass file. And I remember what the touch felt like.

The last couple days I had been having a persistent tapping on my shoulder. A close friend had been on my mind and heart. I finally had left a voice mail on her phone.  Her cel was off, as it always is when she is working. I left a short message, something that I never do. She does not need a voice mail box full of hellos. She would know what it meant.  I would hear from her. I knew something hard had come down on her shoulders.

Shawn Alladio was working running rescue at the IJSBA World PWC racing Championships. She had been deathly ill prior. A bout with meningitis and a post illness bacterial infection had almost killed her.  Better just in time. Just.

Her team had flown in from around the world to work the phenomenally high risk event, where boats become rockets, guided by adrenalized, amazingly skilled athletes with nervous systems and skills that are beyond the ken of the uninitiate. I knew that she was in great hands at the venue at Lake Havasu, and that K38 would do it’s job well.

In working with Shawn, we are all tutored on how to be in times of great stress and death. We learn how to touch, care, and offer comfort when comfort and touch are all that is left to give. Bad things sometimes happen in spite of the best laid plans and training.

Her text was on my phone this morning. Summarized it said: ‘Had a fatal today. A friend died in my arms. Blunt force trauma.’ With those simple words, the scene I already knew about unfolded, and I felt what Shawn had in greater detail.

The story of the incident is right here. Who the man was is quite vital. I am so glad that Shawn was there for him. He knew that he was loved as his time came.

Shawn has penned something about the incident from her point of view. Read it here. Whew!

This beautiful example of touch was passed to me today by Donna Von Hoesslin. It best exemplifies how we ought to be as communicators: touched. I do not necessarily agree with all of the lecturers. The video says it best. We are all in this together. If you have never heard of Bioneers, the lectures can be quite remarkable and well worth your time.

As he typically does, Seth Godin writes well of the responsibility that comes with being a communicator.

Touch. It is what makes us better than human. Are you listening? Did you feel that?

Paradox

Paradox

Anchored: Jeanette

Anchored: Jeanette

Adrift

Adrift

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Shawn Alladio: K38 Rescue

Shawn Alladio: K38 Rescue

Shawn and Cesare

Shawn and Cesare

Listen, Touch, Breathe

Listen, Touch, Breathe

© 2009 David Pu'u. All rights reserved.

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