Being on Earth
Hi!
Greetings again from my China trip. It’s been fun going through pictures rediscovering what is foreign and familiar in this remarkable world. The opening “Hi!” shot was made in the Qingdao Sculpture Garden. Depending on how you look at it, it’s an open question if the figure is sinking from its own weight or rising into the world as a brand new being.
My friend Onelia, the designer and photographer from Finland took the shot on the left at the Botanical Gardens. I took the image on the right. It was great to be in such a quiet and secluded spot in walking distance of the downtown. It was hard to imagine that there was a city with 8 million people a half of a mile from this serene grove of trees.
The gardens have a few public amusement rides. The thing being pulled from the water is a kind of boat that you get inside and roll to move about on the water. It reminded me of some of the sea creatures offered as seafood at the local markets. One of the things I enjoy about taking pictures with other photographers is seeing what they find interesting in the same place. While I was off taking a quirky “Jerry picture,” Onelia was finding herself in the elegant simplicity of a Zen garden. Every picture is a kind of self-portrait.
A lot of our time was spent away from downtown walking around the neighborhood we began to know as home. And, like our respective neighborhoods in our own home countries, we were continually handed small surprises. The gloves looked so human to me and spoke of the hard work that all of humanity does to make a living. Given that I couldn’t read the language, the graffiti, the lettering and the shapes created by the peeling paper spoke to me even though I didn’t know their exact meaning.
I met a person from China in the mid-nineties in Denver who was telling me about his country. He gestured his arms wide to the city before us and said, “Picture this same scene, but take away most of the cars and imagine them being replaced with thousands of bicycles.” That image of China that I held in my head when I arrived turned out to be just as wrong as any number of others I had imagined about this country and its people.
Bicycles were actually forbidden in the downtown area. And given the way these people drive it’s no wonder. I’m not saying they were bad drivers. I only saw a couple of accidents during the two weeks I was there. Depending on your orientation it could look incredibly chaotic or feel remarkably sensual. Everyone moved so close to one another, turning this way and that filling every space as it opened. The variety of vehicles was equally imaginative. We came across the two transport devices on the right on our one day trip to the country.
I’m sure our host thought it odd that I wanted to stop the car to take a picture of what was, to him, such a common scene. I personally had never seen grain being spread by hand onto the side of the road to dry or threshing wheat by feet.
Onelia and I both found our own windows on this world where the old was continuously meeting the new. Her cubist creation on the left is one of my favorites. In my picture on the right the man silhouetted in the shadow is sitting on a stool sewing a shoe. I like the way the white dot in the background brings your eye into the picture and matches the white on the front of the building. It was the perfect place to put a satellite disc.
As I turned from taking the picture of shoe sewing in the shadows I saw a mother caring her child on her back. I saw them. I saw the building they were about to walk in front of, I smiled and gestured with the camera. They stopped and looked directly into the camera. I thanked her in Chinese and in the international language of a smile and a bow she said, “You are welcome.” I felt honored to be welcomed into their lives for that moving minute. It wasn’t until I got home that I saw that her son was already wearing a hat and that the straw hat was most likely her own that she had surrendered to protect her precious son.
Another thing that happened on my trip was that about a week into the two week journey I got a type of flu. I later found out I had contracted it back in The States. I never got very ill, but one effect was that I lost 90% of my hearing. Being in the noisy, busy Beijing airport when I left was quite surreal. For the six hours until my departure I wandered in a quiet world of my own.
I had time to reflect on all that I had experienced, time to quite my mind and just be. It’s times like this when time stands still and I find myself seeing simply and I take a shot that really speaks to me.
I did get my hearing back. When I got home to San Francisco I saw a Western doctor. (In China I had already done acupuncture and taken a number of curious herbs.) The doctor said that my eustation tubes were clogged and that my hearing would return in as little as six weeks to as long as six months. Having been deaf for the last ten days, both time periods sounded like an eternity. Two days after I got home from China I left to be with my brother, Joey, who was in home hospice and expected to die at any time. After being there a couple of deaf days I went to bed and……I know this will sound goofy but by now you already know I’m pretty goofy….. I sat in bed and said to All That Is, ‘Look. I’ve done everything I know. I’ve made it alright. I’ve made it into a valuable lesson. I’ve tried everything. I need be here with my brother and his family. I need to hear now. What do I need to do?” Immediately I heard a voice. Not the voice of any God I’d ever heard of, but a voice that said in an offhand, flippant kind of way, “Do the ‘Om’ thing. Just do the ‘Om’ thing and feel the vibration in your head.” That was it. I did it. I heard popping in my head and in five minutes my hearing returned to about 50% and by the next day it was completely back. I was back and able to be present with my brother for the next two weeks as he savored every minute of being on earth one more time.
There is a Chinese proverb that says, “The miracle is not to fly in the air or to walk on the water, but to walk on the earth.” Thank you my friends for walking on this miraculous journey with me. I so appreciate your presence. I’ll leave you with this picture taken at the Beijing airport of a mother teaching her child how to make a cat’s cradle. It needs no translation.
Love, Jerry
Jerry Downs Photography
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Larkspur, CA 94977
415-686-2369
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When we see with our eyes, we see a reflection of the light. When we see with our hearts, it is the light.
Colleen Zarba
Photo Essays 