Walter Helena Photography

A celebration of a short day and much darkness

2011-12-22T22:28:00.000-08:00

Just a quick moment to wish you a lovely holiday season and a brilliant new year. Bless.

xo.

Iona 004

2011-11-27T21:42:00.001-08:00

In time for the holiday season, the start to a new series (Iona!) and a gift idea or two in the shop with the flexibility built in for you to customize for your special someone....

In my family we are forgoing all gift giving this year in lieu of packing a small suitcase and travelling to a beach far far south. All six of us together for two weeks. No responsibility other than yawning our way out of bed and meeting the days with whatever hope each of us leaves with.

A small year of great proportions

2011-11-25T18:56:00.001-08:00

Today I celebrated one year in my new position in a new industry. A year can be a flick of an eyelash. A coy reminder of how quickly a moment can turn into a day can turn into a week can turn into a blur of activity.

A reminder to consider each moment as a whole. To make those moments come from your core so that the blur amounts to something that pleases you greatly and reflects who you are and where you had hoped you might be.

Because it seems that if you are true to every moment, everything falls along and tumbles where it's meant to and leaves you with a discernible and sensible pattern of how you got from A to Z, even when it was not clear in the moment. And it leaves you feeling like yourself.

On the way to Iona beach. A landscape icing and slowing. Except for the small fast paws low to the ground searching every nook for a mouse that may be delirious enough by the cold to allow a dog to present itself and say hello.

A beach a sea a day a wind

2011-11-21T18:37:00.001-08:00

Black and white films. New toys for the dogs to distract them from the whistling wet outside the window. Finding snow. Boiling kettle after kettle of water. Exploring farther with jackets pulled tight and Hunters rubbing against new soil and rock. Weekly lillies opening fast against the heat from the radiators. Holding a hand and looking outward together with cold noses and warm hearts.

Kootenay 004

2011-10-10T17:15:00.000-07:00

Rain. Moving forward. Slowly.

My Crate & Barrel framed print came in the mail this week. The quality of the print made me smile for 24 hours. It came in a box as big as a house.

Planning a trip to the windy city and beyond. Steeling myself for ten flights in as many days. My apartment smells like lilies. I bought myself a pair of teetering heels. Like a note of intention in a wallet or under a pillow. I will have a needed cause to wear these heels before the month is through.

And if not, I'll wear them to Sunday brunch.

I feel the need to depart, if only for a moment, from the warm burnt palette I've been working with. And so, cool and quiet are the boat sheds and their reflections.

Kootenay 003

2011-09-19T21:49:00.000-07:00

Today the blackberries in the forest were sweet and falling. There were no blackberries in the burnt meadows of the Okanagan.

New series forthcoming

2011-09-11T22:11:00.000-07:00

Back from a two week vacation to the Kootenays. Taking a ferry back and forth from Nelson to the East Shore to jaunt between the cappuccino at Oso Negro and the americano at Mojo.

Midnight ferries to Procter and wedding parades with flowers in hair and trumpets in the air. I had to travel to the ends of gravel roads and cafes near the water to get internet. My work blackberry made infrequent appearances. I even let the battery die for 1.5 days. It felt devilish and delicious.

There was a lot of naked and a lot of swimming in fresh water. Quiet conversations in the garden while gathering vegetables. Waking to chunks of freshly plucked cucumber with salt. A lot of hand holding. Skies so many layers deep with stars that the black was easier to pick out than the sparkle. A lot of silence -- outside and in.

I went away for many reasons. One of which was to take photographs. I took a lot of photographs. The landscape begged it. I could barely keep up.

To give to give to give

2011-08-17T20:59:00.000-07:00

Finding beauty has always been a quest of mine. The unworded and uncommon beauty. The beauty of love.

These last weeks it has come to me. I did not have to search. It has been waiting in the sidelines for months with me pushing it away and ignoring and blindingly turning a cheek to natural interest.

This beauty has unwaveringly, diligently, and persistently made itself clear and known. And then I gave it a moment. Took a breath. Stumbled backwards for how much was already waiting in me to meet it.

And I learn what I already knew: reacting wider with trust and warmth is a sure way to glow, and a sure way to again hear the whispering of what my own self has desperately been repeating. And I learn to allow.

A girlfriend recently noted: have the confidence in your power to allow yourself to be vulnerable and girlish. I relish in the girlishness that is making itself known. And I have never felt safer.

Snippets from a weekend away. Where I had many, many hours to contemplate and not ignore the blossom inside.

Homes and strangers

2011-07-14T21:39:00.000-07:00

A song my colleague has been playing incessantly throughout our open concept office while making his newest short film. Thank goodness there are no walls to keep this song from me while he edits, edits, edits.

And some rosy-apple-cheeked news for WHP! Landscape 020 was requested and taken on by Crate & Barrel for their Fall line.

I am in a stage of yes. A yes stage. You could ask me near anything.

Saying yes to this was different for me -- I have been in the habit of shelter and protect. My work. The quality. The client. The pathways. Myself.

There is much to shelter and protect against, I know this, but pushing myself just enough to place trust -- in others, in fate, in making mistakes -- this seems vital. I see thick walls and metal hearts and deep protection damage artists I have known. Damage people I have known.

It is liberating to have just enough control of quality and rights, and leave the rest to strangers I have never met.

And with this I will hope against hope to create small but meaningful relationships with more strangers across North America who may not have otherwise met my photographs and brought them into their lives.

Les bisous.

Little snippets for women I love

2011-06-25T09:52:00.000-07:00

I like the small writings of Brian Andreas. He verges on childish but is eclectic and fantastical enough to keep le fromage at bay.

I was reading some of his writings this morning and found some bits that reminded me of women I know and love. Some timely, and some classic.

For Susan: In those days, we finally chose to walk like giants & hold the world in arms grown strong with love & there may be many things we forget in the days to come, but this will not be one of them.

For Claire: Deciding everything is falling into place perfectly as long as you don't get too picky about what you mean by place. Or perfectly.

For Sara: I sometimes wake in the early morning & listen to the soft breathing of my children & I think to myself, this is one thing I will never regret & I carry that quiet with me all day long.

For Taryn: If you hold on to the handle, she said, it's easier to maintain the illusion of control. But it's more fun if you just let the wind carry you.

For Nicole: Most people don't know there are angels whose only job is to make sure you don't get too comfortable & fall asleep & miss your life.

For Faye: You're the strangest person I ever met, she said & I said you too & we decided we'd know each other a long time.

For me: In my dream, the angel shrugged & said, If we fail this time, it will be a failure of imagination & then she placed the world gently in the palm of my hand.

I would like for us all to jump on that trampoline with cocktails in sippy cups.

Large format in Madison, Wisconsin

2011-06-20T19:12:00.000-07:00

How WHP landscapes are intended: four feet high.

Thanks for the installation shot Carol!

xo,
WHP

A calm and calm calm

2011-05-28T21:20:00.000-07:00

I've been to Denver, Boulder, Boston, NYC and Mayne Island.

Crossing my path: orcas, strangers with rosemary to offer, a masseuse, beds dreaming next to friends, early dawn shared with new faces, hanging a chandelier from a boom on Bowery, circling unfamiliar cities and feeling their vertical bricks with my fingertips, candles on chocolate cake, music filtering from blocks away, museums, flight after flight, and the first pink on my skin.

And after all the holding it together and setting alarms for three in the morning (my time) and whiplashing my head back and back again, it is this photo that I think of. Of two trees that stand together. Some fateful or lucky way they've remained tall against the backdrop of sprawling suburbia. And their togetherness is so pleasant and so lonely.

Mamihlapinatapai

2011-05-08T12:19:00.000-07:00

A look shared by two people, each wishing for the other to initiate what they both desire but that neither wants to start.

The sorts of things

2011-04-16T12:03:00.000-07:00

It's remarkable what can happen when you let go.

Allowing for strangers to be themselves without controlling the outcome and not trying to showcase. Not judging or taking offense to someone who you will most likely never understand. Instead, creating unexpected communication that wouldn't have otherwise taken place behind a shield of shy-eyed safety.

And most likely you'll learn something about the world, have a fable opened to you (Hugin and Munin), see a fresh tattoo, witness an ass be genuine, believe a compliment, watch a tall man smoke and love his small life, and see strangers kiss just for the sake of it. And in a way you'll likely become something you weren't before.

A lesson to me: stay planted and see out a situation that at first glance looks terribly uncomfortable.

Rest in peace dearest Munners

2011-04-14T18:50:00.000-07:00

A cat left me this week. Or rather, a cat left everyone this week.

Although she didn't like water, I think she would have been very happy floating away on one of these barges.

She would have stretched out long and twisted against the hot metal and tucked her little chin away under a paw; legs one direction and nose the other. She made awkward look sophisticated.

She would yawn endlessly and purr along with the motor. She would glance with disinterest at the Islands passing. She would lick her tousled fur back to place like a lady. She would be peaceful with the open water unfolding around her vessel.

And she would be warm. She would always, always be warm from this day forward and forever.

This photo is for Honey.

boats

2011-04-06T07:17:00.000-07:00

On doing something small and special for no one else

2011-04-04T07:48:00.000-07:00

Offices and commuting have always gone against my grain. To make my present commute feel less like bringing me to a place I'd rather not be and more like a moment I've chosen, I began taking the long way to work through Stanley Park.

I drive the winding road through forest with the sea to my right. I pass Siwash Rock and then the Hollow Tree. I drive around the cascade of branches that litter the narrow road.

And then about a month ago I started stopping every morning at third beach. I get out of the car and walk to the edge of a short cliff. I breathe sea. I watch weather. I see how the ships are placed differently than the day before. It takes only a minute.

And then I began taking photos of these mornings.

Morning worms

2011-04-02T17:36:00.000-07:00

With the rain, the sidewalk on the south side of the street is teeming with worms. Rooster and I tiptoe around them. The little one barrels through, his small paws barely making an imprint on their wet bodies. His nose is stuck to the grass and mine to the air. The flowers are coming.

Contradictions

2011-03-27T12:47:00.000-07:00

Each corner. Every person. Decisions made and ultimatums given. Every sky and bird that lands on a branch. All of it filled with contradiction. In truth and lies and turning a cheek. Conscious and otherwise. The complexities of the simplest moments are so very fascinating.

From mountains to beer and an alibi

2011-03-16T18:16:00.000-07:00

We found snow this morning. We found sun this afternoon. The dogs are washed and the little one drags his bed closer to the radiator between careful teeth and watches me while he dries. And tonight I go out. I mean out. For the first time in a long time.

To-not-do

2011-03-13T16:36:00.000-07:00

I have a list of places to go, people to write, bills to pay, apartments to find and all the etceteras next to me. I have taxes and receipts waiting to be tallied under that.

I give those lists and receipts the middle finger. It is Sunday. I'll read with too many pillows and much too much chocolate and push those neat piles of paper off the corner of the desk and to the floor.

New print here.

A toast to alone

2011-03-08T21:55:00.000-08:00

Millions of us, raising a glass of red to our lips, alone, across the country.

I have a sister in law drinking alone with her dog in celebration of a 3-year anniversary to my brother, who I am sure is drinking down south during his Spring training. And they toast one another from afar.

And I drink alone -- pull a fine bottle from the side of the rack and use the good wine glass at the back of the cupboard that needs dusting -- and toast nothing and everything.

Because that's what you can do when you are alone and tentatively happy and connected to all those around you within the night air.

A pane of glass stays whole

2011-03-02T09:29:00.000-08:00

The wind mill at the top of the mountain is circling wildly. The trees bend.

In here -- in my home -- the dryer slowly turns, the dogs drop their toys at my feet while waiting expectantly and it all turns at a slow pace; a reverse winding that draws at a moment until it no longer has intricacies.

The pane of glass seperating the inside from the outside is much thicker today. And safely I will stay here, inside. Forget my work for a day. Forget the people I will speak to tomorrow.

I will remain safely quiet behind the thin glass while the wind whips itself outside and thank distraction and thank focus.

Finding white searching quiet

2011-02-27T08:12:00.000-08:00

Not far from home is a mountain. I go here to find snow in the winter when in front of my window there is rain. The dogs turn twisty and stuff their noses deep into the drifts between trees.

Yesterday, it hung in the air like dust and I inhaled the small flakes without trying. It lay like goose down and swirled with no weight when a wind came past.

And today, the snow came to us. And outside of our window it is that special quiet. We walked the streets as the sun rose somewhere behind the clouds and it diffused pink and pushed at the navy hue until they blended into grey. And still it snows and I can't take my eyes from the window.

This print new in the shop here.

A new landscape and the sound of midnight on the rails

2011-02-16T23:04:00.000-08:00

The trains are always being filled. Midnight, I can hear the tracks and the lumber. Hard against hard. The workers eyes must be small against the cold night and the dark beside the water. And the rail ties bending and giving and not knowing what hour it is.

New landscape available here.

Wet sky with candles and love

2011-02-14T15:51:00.000-08:00

Vacation of a fantasy of a get me out of here

2011-02-13T12:38:00.000-08:00

An outing a day a water a snow

2011-01-30T15:04:00.000-08:00

In the forest, the moss steams. The trees drop water into all of our eyes. The ice continues to coat the wooden bridges long after the sunlight. Dappled was made here. And we return home and the birds finally eat the bread strewn in front of the kitchen window in the empty spaces between the bare bushes.

A wet-edged month

2011-01-28T12:25:00.000-08:00

The edges of January have been a bit rough. In waiting for them to smooth out, I've treated myself. To a wide angle lens: 10 - 20mm. We've had two dates already and I realize I've passed the point where I can use my purse as camera bag. Or maybe this means that I also need to treat myself to a new purse....

Glass half full. Glass half full.

Ready. Set.

2011-01-16T19:03:00.001-08:00

Sometimes you need a sickness to set things right again. Forcing basics and priorities. Overtired communication is honest. A reset button.

A song that goes well with reset.

A Monday that could happen twice

2011-01-10T17:45:00.000-08:00

A Monday worth of work that leaves you feeling more invigorated than a weekend away from work = unexpected bliss.

Shmerfect pothing

2011-01-08T09:18:00.000-08:00

What is the perfect day. What is the perfect moment.

The less perfect I have coming at me, the more I value my reaction to less-than-perfect. In reaction is where the invisible and rooted perfection is created.

Listening to Marie-Pierre Arthur. Going for a long walk in the forest. Anticipating a hot bath and reading Monocle.

Wishing you a beautiful start to the New Year. My two words for 2011: robust and inspired.

xo,
WHP

Rejoice

2010-12-19T14:46:00.000-08:00

Listening to Sufjan. Watching the clothes dryer cloud steam into the icy air outside. Packing bags. Checking lists twice. I'm determined to find some quiet, no matter how far I have to travel to find it.

I'll be quiet while I find quiet. I'll see you in the New Year. I wish you a beautiful and delicious holiday season.

xo,
WHP

On the few hours

2010-12-16T07:10:00.000-08:00

Waking before dawn and coming home after sunset has never felt right to me.

Little sayings: volume twenty-two

2010-12-12T07:56:00.000-08:00

On holding one together

2010-12-11T06:40:00.000-08:00

There are times it feels near miracle in scope to not create catastrophe in ones wake. Now is one of those times.

I have made all the choices to be where I am and I remain committed to each and every one of those choices. But sometimes I bite off more than I can chew. Or I chew with anxiety and fear that at any moment -- one more second -- I will turn and find myself in pieces.

And when the people you expect to be there are not there and trouble after problem after unexpected visit tumble over one another, enter: mother. Enter: family.

They drove long and into the night. They cooked for me and came with their own oversized soup pot. Bags of ingredients spilled over all the counters. They brought wine and left dessert and happy scrawled notes and christmas oranges. They spent nights in my apartment to look after the cats when I couldn't. They took the dogs home with them and send me photos of their naps and treat-time throughout the days so I won't miss them so much. They ask "what can I do for you?" They took my hand. They shared my burden.

Without family, the bottom would be so much deeper.

A brick building a weekend a cat yowling

2010-12-09T08:49:00.000-08:00

"The most exhausting thing in life, I have discovered, is being insincere."
Anne Morrow Lindbergh

(Thank you to girlfriends who pass along books that are so timely it takes everything I have not to dog-ear the pages of their copy.)

Gbox WHP feature

2010-12-06T04:53:00.001-08:00

Thank you to Gabriel over at THE GBOX for writing up an ode to landscape and the city. This here town, you can't get one without the other.

Corners

2010-12-02T09:11:00.000-08:00

My fingertips smell like mandarins, my hair smells like campfire and the apartment smells like cloves.

Each day I anticipate how good it will be to take a hot bath in the evening and to bring tea to bed while I make my way through the longest novel in history. I can barely gather the energy to shuffle the animals into their own beds and off of mine before making it dark.

It takes so many nights to finish a novel when it slips out of my hands only a few pages in. And the sleep is deep and I don't remember any dreams.

And the winner is ....

2010-12-01T09:38:00.000-08:00

The winner of November's giveaway is Kylie! (Congratulations, darling!)

Her sentence to bring our story forward: "Where her new surroundings will be a far cry from his home in the city."

xo,
WHP

WHP giveaway: eight of twelve

2010-11-26T07:19:00.000-08:00

Enter to win this 8 x 11 Hahnemuhle WHP fine art print. Printed on artist-weight felt paper with faux-polaroid borders. This month: A forest against a mountain (in turquoise).

To win:

* The contest is open for four days: 7AM Nov. 26th - 12AM Nov. 30th.
* You can live anywhere to enter. I will ship to you free of charge.
* In the comments section, submit one sentence (please only one) to finish the story excerpt below. (To read the full up-to-date version of the story, click here.)
* Be sure to leave your email information along with your sentence.
* For an extra chance to win, become a follower of this blog. But only if you like, please.
* Check back the morning of December 1st for the announcement of the winner.

The excerpt:

"The plane rocked her to sleep and she woke fully somewhere in the middle of the bus driver yelling out his window. She sits in the back bench along with the cases and boxes; she sees kittens in peeling boats out the side of the bus. Boats on the sides of the highways, pulled high against the stacks of crab traps. The kittens mill like ants, slowly and dazed, crawling over one another. She will go to the sea. ____________________."

So: scribble, please erase little, and submit to me ....

[Comments are now closed. Thank you to everyone who participated! Check back on the morning of November 1st for the announcement of the winner. xo, WHP]

To a musty cabin in the woods

2010-11-19T07:39:00.000-08:00

I'll be on Galiano Island for two nights of centering and making friends with deer. Changes are afoot; although rest assured that none of them have to do with WHP. This sky is available for purchase here.

blurofablur

2010-11-16T07:45:00.000-08:00

Exhausted and happy. I don't think I have yet shown this print here. It's one of those special ones that the more I look at the more I like. It makes me want to eat stew with dumplings and sleep in. It's here in the shop.

Little sayings: volume twenty-one

2010-11-15T07:55:00.000-08:00

Petit Calendar Etsy feature

2010-11-13T07:28:00.000-08:00

Esty featured the WHP Petit 13-page Calendar in an email to members two days ago! I only found this out when I received an email from a woman across the pond asking if my handwriting was a typeface she could purchase. *blush*

Canmore Land 2007: book two

2010-11-12T07:31:00.000-08:00

I'd like to introduce you to the second WHP fine art book: Canmore Land 2007. It's all winter greens washed with snow to assist with mood.

Miniature. Accordion-style. Limited edition in a quantity of 20. Signed. Numbered. Curating 12 faux-Polaroid landscapes. Decadent paper. Geometric cover pattern. Handmade. Turquoise. Emerald. Jade. Moss. Olive. Sage. Avocado. Teal. Green. Fits in your palm.

For more images and information, please see my shop here.

I need a rest in a nest

2010-11-11T10:45:00.000-08:00

Just...so perfect for the kinds of afternoons I would like to lead. And big enough to share with two. Imagine this structured lounger hanging over a bayou, or from a tree in the middle of a field. Oh yes please.

WHP subscription print: November

2010-11-10T10:29:00.000-08:00

This month, subscribers will be receiving this patterned print. What do you think it is? I could tell you, but that would be less fun....

Or, maybe it's just better not to know. Perhaps art is the only place where not knowing can actually improve the ambiance of a situation.

To find out more about the art subscription service, click here.

Printing times four options

2010-11-08T07:38:00.000-08:00

The photo collections I've been working on come from a variety of years. During those variety of years I apparently had little to no conformity (this is not news for anyone who knows me).

I created small thematic collections, I created collections where particular images were 40 x 40 inches square and some were 18 x 24 inches rectangular. I'm working now to streamline all my past work. No small feat. Let me tell you. But interesting to guess at my reasoning of the time. Interesting to find new options that weren't clear to me before.

While I sort my image sizing to enter the realm of consistency, I am offering one level of new options for you. For all Giclee prints, the customer has the choice of the following four products. Each is decadent in its own way and each lends a different light of atmosphere to the piece.

Printing
✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽

Prints are professionally Giclee printed by a third party using an Epson Stylus Pro 11880 K3. This technique provides extremely vivid colour reproduction. I leave a ½-inch white border around the top three edges of each print and a 1 ½-inch white border on the bottom edge to create the illusion of a Polaroid.

Textured Fine Art
✽ Archival quality 118 years approximately.
✽ Textured surface for a true artistic appearance.
✽ Acid free to preserve fine art photos.
✽ 100% cotton rag for long term durability.
✽ White surface for vivid color reproduction.

Ultrasmooth Fine Art
✽ Archival quality 108 years approximately.
✽ Natural white ultrasmooth surface for incredible detail & accurate reproduction.
✽ Acid free and pH buffered to preserve fine art & photos.
✽ 100% cotton hot press for long term durability.
✽ Outstanding D-Max for prints with exceptional contrast.

Somerset Velvet
✽ Archival quality 75 years approximately.
✽ Velvet surface for fine detail and accurate reproduction.
✽ Acid free to preserve fine art and photos.
✽ 100% cotton rag for long term durability.
✽ Radiant white surface for vivid color reproduction.

Premium Canvas Satin or Matte
✽ Archival quality 75 years approximately.
✽ Unique texture for true artist look.
✽ Water resistant for increased durability.
✽ Highest resolution canvas for outstanding reproduction.
✽ Poly/Cotton blend, stretchable for framing.

Happy weekend

2010-11-07T07:43:00.000-08:00

Mine has been filled with heavy warm food, red wine that pours thick like cream, watching old comedies over the sound of dogs playing, reading over the cat on my chest, splashing in puddles while shading my white Hunters darker, goodbyes for a short while, early brunches where eggs get cold under the priorities of friends, and contented sighs in my head and otherwise.

Outside my window

2010-11-05T11:04:00.000-07:00

Holy dust covered musty grey.

Little sayings: volume twenty

2010-11-02T07:54:00.000-07:00

And the winner is ....

2010-11-01T12:13:00.000-07:00

The winner of October's giveaway for this print is ...

...Aya Wedding! (Congratulations!)

Her sentence to bring our story forward: "Her feet follow her heart, every step takes her to her ghost lover."

Thank you to everyone who entered the giveaway ... please do come back next month for giveaway eight.

November's giveaway will be the print below (Hanemuhle printed with faux-polaroid borders). It's all about a forest dreaming to blend with the emerald dusk.

xo,
WHP

2011 WHP calendars

2010-10-31T11:47:00.000-07:00

I'm on a quest this week to find my perfect moleskine weekly planner for 2011 (the same one I've been using for four consecutive years). Sometimes, though, you just need a quick reference rather than lined blank pages that make you feel lonely if they aren't stacked full of appointments. A space just large enough to mark a star or an exclamation mark. Remember, something important is happening today.

So I made one WHP calendar. And then I made two more. Variations at different sizes and price points so veritably anyone who covets the imagery can bring it to their desk/fridge/corkboard and know at a glance what day you have to return your books to the library and buy your mother roses. All three calendars are completely handmade by me.

Calendars: the solid fall-back gift to give a loved one during the holidays. Or anytime if they are a chronic latecomer and perpetually disorganized.

Option one
Personalized at-a-glance one year WHP calendar with one WHP image. You choose whatever WHP image you would like to appear on your calendar. No need to flip pages, it's all right there in front of you. This calendar comes as a gift with purchase when you spend $28 or more in the WHP Etsy store before the end of 2010. 8 x 11 inches.

Option two
Palm -sized monthly unbound calendar with 12 WHP images and a cover page. Perfect for small workspaces. The ideal size to gift as stocking stuffer. You are left with 12 teeny WHP images to frame when the year is through. 3 x 5 inches.

Option three
Limited edition monthly unbound calendar produced in an edition of 50. Includes 12 WHP images, a cover page, and a back page edition-numbered and signed by the photographer. Twelve 4 x 4-inch images remain yours to frame once the year is through. 5 x 8 inches.

Available in the shop.

Deconstructed and desaturated

2010-10-29T07:40:00.000-07:00

Three new prints in the shop.

xo,
WHP

On calming

2010-10-28T09:17:00.000-07:00

If I was a person who meditated, I would look at this to centre me.

But I'm not. So the closest I come is in creating these photographs. My partner has been waiting for an hour to start a movie and I keep saying "five more minutes" because I'm enthralled and entranced in adding a scene and a story and an atmosphere to an ocean that we passed a month ago. So indirectly, I'm helping him with patience and a sort of his own meditation, yes? Let's say yes.

Also, available in the shop.

Dusting The Lions

2010-10-27T08:55:00.000-07:00

By now, you have certainly heard me reference my dogs enough times to know how much I value their imprint on my life. Above all, the routine of our first walk of the day is one that I savour.

Each morning we walk the same alleyway away from the apartment and the same road home. And from the corner where I turn around there is a fire hydrant. And on this fire hydrant their interest rests and it gives me a moment to look out and up at The Lions.

And this morning, after months of summer-bare rock, there was a first snow on their dueling peaks. I look forward to their change from jagged amber and wheat coloured faces to regal white cones each fall.

And last night as I pulled the blankets tighter because of the cold coming in from the window, the snow was certainly already dusting high above in the mountains -- so high and steep there are no more trees -- while I was tightly woven in sleep.

Below is a new photo that is not quite as unrelated as it might seem since it is the ocean beneath The Lions. The colour reminds me of that shade one sees when surrounded by a snowstorm at dusk.

WHP featured on Automatism Atelier

2010-10-27T07:33:00.000-07:00

A lovely write-up from the Automatism Atelier blog. You can see her feature of WHP here.

WHP giveaway: seven of twelve (olive imaginings)

2010-10-25T07:21:00.000-07:00

Enter to win this 8 x 8 giclee print of a WHP fine art print. Printed on thick textured canvas with faux-polaroid borders. It looks mighty fine floating in a large frame.

This month: olives and still grass (still, for a moment, at least).

To win:

* The contest is open for five days: 7AM Oct. 25th - 12AM Oct. 30th.
* You can live anywhere to enter. I will ship to you free of charge.
* In the comments section, submit one sentence (please only one) to finish the story excerpt below. (To read the full up-to-date version of the story, click here.)
* Be sure to leave your email information along with your sentence.
* For an extra chance to win, become a follower of this blog. But only if you like, please.
* Check back the morning of November 1st for the announcement of the winner.

The excerpt:

“And so she packs her valise. Toothbrush, hairpins, books of assorted colours. She hails a taxi and when dropped at the airport, steps over puddles. Her bag is high above her head, keeping the rain from her shoulders. She stands like this – reaching long and taking nothing, arms shaking ever so slightly – as she contemplates which plane to buy a ticket for. She cannot go where she would like (to him), and so, anywhere with a different tone to the air will do. _________________________.”

So: scribble, please erase little, and submit to me ....

[Comments are now closed. Thank you to everyone who participated! Check back on the morning of November 1st for the announcement of the winner. xo, WHP]

Martinis after the noon

2010-10-24T16:08:00.000-07:00

A Sunday afternoon martini (ohmygoodness unusual decadence) while I write my October WHP newsletter.

If you don't receive the newsletter and would like to, please email me at: walterhelenaphotography [at] gmail [dot] com with "subscribe" in the subject header. Mostly it's a slightly deeper peek into WHP headquarters (my little desk by the window) including a monthly wrap-up of what I've been toiling on and dreaming up and sometimes I include subscriber-only discounts.

It's very strange for me to write a newsletter but it's such a nice way to keep in contact with you and have little conversations that I otherwise would not. And those conversations are so special to me.

Rain thick against my office window. Candles warming the room with the smell of spun sugar. The easy burnt dust of the radiator drying the air. I forget how many cozy things I go without during the summer months. Listening to: Mew.

And tomorrow: WHP giveaway!

Riske Creek Land 2008: book one

2010-10-24T08:39:00.000-07:00

I'd like to introduce you to the inaugural WHP fine art book: Riske Creek Land 2008. Hello.

Miniature. Accordion-style. Limited edition in a quantity of 20. Signed. Numbered. Curating 12 faux-Polaroid landscapes. Decadent paper. Ahem, make that three decadent papers. Handmade. White white white. Fits in your palm.

For more images and information, please see my shop here.

Transferring clouds by airplane over oceans

2010-10-23T08:29:00.000-07:00

A large Canadian sky travels to Brussels.

I'm beginning to form a relationship with the fellows at my post office. When wrapping the mailing tube for the print below in layers of protective tape, the fellow offered me his assistance. Four hands are better than two.

I am thankful to my postal men (especially the shy one who cuts his forearms and has troubles looking me in the eye). I feel protective of them. And I hope they feel protective of the packages I bring them.

Wet blossoms left over

2010-10-17T07:53:00.000-07:00

I spent the afternoon organizing my files. Working and selling in a digital platform can create an intricate maze of image names and thematic clusters. It's a veritable pile of papers in cyberspace.

I could operate in a more flexible way, such as I have so far, and possibly be not much worse for the wear. But I think I'll reserve my flexibility for other matters. Here I'll marry creativity and sensibility: what harmony.

While I was organizing, I happened upon a forgotten image. And that transformed the late afternoon into a series of tea-laden hours working on this new themed collection. Meant to be viewed large (40 x 40 inches) to get the textured and abstract effect of these blossoms.

Listening to: Slowdive.

A close-up excerpt of the texture from Blossoms 007.

Three things

2010-10-14T07:53:00.000-07:00

Coveting the production values of Nazraeli Press and this book in particular from photographer Todd Hido. Sigh. The oversized edition was my most favourite thing to bring home from Portland. And it barely fit under my arm.

A rose on my bedside table has already survived far longer than any rose should. Cat bites from the outside petals excluded. Wouldn't it be perfect if flowers lived as long as the strength of intention in which they were given.

Loving the art of wooden textiles by Elisa Strozyk. I think I'd need a couple layers to keep the draft out.

WHP featured on Art Hound

2010-10-13T07:12:00.000-07:00

Thank you to Kate at Art Hound for finding me and featuring me on her beautifully curated art/design site. Click here for the feature.

A seed a pocket a flower a locket

2010-10-07T07:12:00.000-07:00

Something soothing to look at while I'm away for a while.

xo,
WHP

Little sayings: volume nineteen

2010-10-06T07:54:00.000-07:00

Desaturated skysealand

2010-10-05T07:10:00.000-07:00

The gulls carry starfish in their mouths and all the crows fly east. The sky reflects the land and the water reflects the sky and all of it blends until there are no more lines.

WHP subscription print: October

2010-10-03T07:51:00.000-07:00

This month, subscribers will be receiving this little bit of watercolour abstract. Yes, that's a lot of mottled teals and aquas and mints in the turquoise palette.

To find out more about the art subscription service, click here.

2010-10-02T08:09:00.000-07:00

A few of my favourites from the other artists selected for the "wide awake dreaming" catalogue:

Float, by John Bridges

Childhood, by Lori Pond

Nautical Dream, by Susan Elizabeth de Witt

And the winner is ....

2010-10-01T15:48:00.001-07:00

I've kept you in suspense long enough. The winner of September's giveaway for this print is ...

... Lizzy Derksen! (Congratulations sweetie!)

Her sentence to bring our story forward: "She is beginning to hate herself."

Click here for the story so far. And for upcoming giveaways please keep in mind that I only need a single sentence from you. Just the one. Thank you to everyone who entered the giveaway!

October's giveaway will be the print below (as always: giclee printed on fine art canvas with faux-polaroid borders). It's all about a landscape of smeared olives.

xo,
WHP

Juried curation of Fire Landscape 001

2010-10-01T07:59:00.000-07:00

I'm tickled that the print below was selected to be part of the exhibition catalogue surrounding the theme "wide awake dreaming," curated by The Vermont Photography Workplace and juried by Russel Joslin. You can see the complete set of images here.

Is it common to dream in black and white? So many of the other photographs selected reflect a monochrome palette. I definitely do not dream in sepia tones. As you very well might be able to tell.

A poncho of fog

2010-09-30T07:51:00.000-07:00

Up before dawn with a sick dog. Walking the sidewalks slowly. My toes pick up the wet from the dark grass. The ships in the harbour are a symphony of long and low horns. The fog sticks to the water and ends at the piers. All I can see through the grey down below are the tanker lights.

Darker things from the Sunshine Coast ferries, BC

2010-09-28T07:21:00.000-07:00

Three more days of deals

2010-09-27T07:51:00.000-07:00

1 + 1 gratis.
(The dutch description for: one helluva deal.)

There are only three more days to take advantage of the buy-one-get-one-free sale over at my shop! Click here for le petit specials.

Light things from the ferry from Powell River to Comox, BC

2010-09-26T11:30:00.000-07:00

WHP giveaway: six of twelve (soft midnight blossoms)

2010-09-25T07:00:00.000-07:00

Enter to win this 8 x 8 giclee print of a WHP fine art print. Printed on thick textured canvas with faux-polaroid borders. It looks mighty fine floating in a large frame.

This month: cherry blossoms in the thick twilight.

To win:

* The contest is open for five days: 7AM Sept. 25th - 12AM Sept. 29th.
* You can live anywhere to enter. I will ship to you free of charge.
* In the comments section, submit one sentence to finish the story excerpt below. (To read the full up-to-date version of the story, click here.)
* Be sure to leave your email information along with your sentence.
* For an extra chance to win, become a follower of this blog. But only if you like, please.
* Check back the morning of October 1st for the announcement of the winner.
* Hello delightful.

The excerpt:

“Sending the cat’s hair in the mail no longer provokes his letters, not even her words pique his interest. The clouds gather thicker along the mountains and the sun arcs lower in the sky. The summer is passing and it does not carry him with it. He is still in front of her, ghostly as always, transparent as ever. He is real somewhere in this city and while she desperately wants her hope of him to wane her hands continue to write letter after letter and her feet bring her to the mailbox each dawn. ___________________."

So: scribble, please erase little, and submit to me ....

[Comments are now closed. Thank you to everyone who participated! Check back on the morning of October 1st for the announcement of the winner. xo, WHP]

Ruby Lake, Madeira Park, BC

2010-09-24T07:20:00.000-07:00

Dragonflies as big as birds. Beavers out for a dalliance. Steaming coffee at the edge of the lake. Talking to the ducks (who mutter under their breath). Watching a fox across the water watch the ducks (in the far darkness inside the pockets between the trees). Hiking the only dead space in the forest beneath the power lines. Snakes tuck into the rocks. Hawks circle.

Little sayings: volume eighteen

2010-09-23T07:53:00.000-07:00

I think clouds should always be skimming the sidewalks and mountains should always be within reach. And what a treat to be able to tell what weather will be overhead in fifteen minutes by looking down the valley. It's nice to be away from the ocean.

Sechelt, BC

2010-09-22T07:54:00.000-07:00

Triptych of soft water

2010-09-21T08:00:00.000-07:00

In the countryside. Alone this leg of the trip because of death bringing my partner across the country. If only I could pull the East closer to the West -- we could then perform all our duties and be able to look over our shoulders and the other would be there, right there.

But I won't be alone: I have orchards and meetings and wineries to keep me company. I have the thunder and the rainbows to follow. And the smell of sagebrush, brought out from the wind and water gusting through the valley.

Gibsons, BC

2010-09-20T07:39:00.000-07:00

On allowing instead of rehearsing

2010-09-19T07:25:00.000-07:00

"A well-rehearsed performance will go without a hitch. An explorer seeks the hitches, because hitches are the fissures and chasms that help us leap forward." Seth Godin.

So much truth not only for creative pursuits, but just: life.

Tardy sentiment

2010-09-17T08:14:00.000-07:00

Where is the value in being sentimental when the sentiment and mist and ache don't come in time for the other(s) to know it. I suppose it's then for me and me alone. That really does seem a silly thing.

Closer to trees

2010-09-16T07:26:00.000-07:00

The chickens scratch in the mud. Their feathers are wet and their eggs are in our fridge. We are far from home just now with many windows to look out at the countryside and much seafood to stuff ourselves with along the highway.

Etsy front page

2010-09-15T16:44:00.000-07:00

It never ceases to be a little giddy-inducing to have an item on the Etsy front page (and this particular treasury was an anthology of Vancouver creatives).

Also contributing to feeling warm is the deluge of emails that follows from strangers around the world who want to say "I like what you do and thank you for doing it." And to them I say: thank you for thanking me for doing something I would be doing anyways.

Paperblanks featured artist!

2010-09-15T07:53:00.000-07:00

I'm thrilled to be the featured artist here on the Paperblanks website.

Little sayings: volume seventeen

2010-09-14T07:53:00.000-07:00

Blurring baking swimming sleeping

2010-09-13T07:07:00.000-07:00

Banana bread is in the oven. All my papers are packed. The shower is waiting; I can hear the fan whirring already. Skirts and belts are folded in the suitcase. I leave just enough room for a pile of man clothes to sit snugly. The car has new brakes. The windshield will need to be washed. I will watch his face as he wipes it down. Or he will watch mine. Or maybe the rain will do it for us and we can watch each other as the ferry takes us slowly away.

Here in the small parts

2010-09-11T07:06:00.000-07:00

Satisfaction in: a new tube of toothpaste, drinking a kettle-full of milky tea, rubbing noses with those I love, scoffing at and subsequently putting down a bestseller, and having people new in my life and from another era take the time to write me messages of appreciation.

And on that note: I appreciate you being here.

Little sayings: volume sixteen

2010-09-09T07:52:00.000-07:00

Painting with lenses

2010-09-07T07:21:00.000-07:00

In person, these were leaves against the low sun reflecting on the surface of the ocean with pebbles showing clear through the ice water. On the camera, they were blurry leaves against a backdrop of sunset warmth. And now, it is colour.

Let the clouds roll down off the hills and over it all

2010-09-06T07:29:00.000-07:00

I'm ready for rain. I'm ready for everything rain brings and all the coziness and tea and smiles from under lashes and time in bed just listening.

A beach down the coast

2010-09-04T07:17:00.000-07:00

Oregon, to be exact. Although the only specifics I have for you from the beach itself is that it was somewhere along a quiet patch off highway 101 and the wind was so strong it blew us blind.

The water it pulled from our eyes and mouths and from the ocean blended so thoroughly that none of us need be embarrassed for leaking -- not me, nor my travel companions, nor the ocean.

Also, the water was certainly not this colour.

WHP subscription print: September

2010-09-03T07:34:00.000-07:00

This month, subscribers will be receiving this little bit of stormy sky in the mail. What do you see? (Please don't say rabbit. There is definitely not a rabbit in the clouds. Okay, fine, there is.)

To find out more about the subscription service, click here.

xo,
WHP

A dark and stormy

2010-09-02T07:31:00.000-07:00

I attribute nothing to my mood.

And the winner is ....

2010-09-01T08:34:00.000-07:00

Thank you for the great number of creative entries to this month's giveaway event! I wish I could pick all of you; or at the very least send each of you a note in the mail. That would be a lot of stamps to lick. So instead: thank you. (Please do drop by on September 25th and enter the next giveaway.)

Back to here and now. The winner of August's giveaway for this canvas giclee print is ...

... Twig & Cricket! (Congratulations!!!)

The sentence to bring our story forward: "Today the wait is neither delicious or torturous, just numbing."

Here's a peek at the image for next month's giclee giveaway ($40 value).

xo,
WHP

Art and electronics

2010-08-31T08:23:00.000-07:00

Hello little piece of WHP art on the back of my iPhone. Saying hello to strangers and telemarketers is now so much more pleasant.

On leftover sonnets

2010-08-30T07:30:00.000-07:00

Waking early to the dog howling upstairs and the rhythm of Shakespeare in my head. Get me an espresso.

Twilight on the ocean

2010-08-29T07:14:00.000-07:00

Light fading against the sea and tree branches dipping and drying with the waves. A gull pulls apart the remains of a crab and the dogs look on longingly.