A Little Shift In Emphasis

A little shift in emphasis – that's all it seemed to take
To open up photography and let me then partake;
For since I left the Oji-Cree had a problem there –
I could not take my photographs, most times I would not dare.

Friend Bobby said, "That's culture-shock, for there each owns his face"
I'd come to walk quite free with then it each and every case,
But when I came back "home" again (at least I thought it was),
The bottom dropped right out of it – I didn't know the cause.

Some help I got (Art Therapy connected up the pain,
Resolved that mess, and set me free to photograph again);
But still I had no subject which my photographs would show,
Good pictures of my poetry were nice, but even so –

There was no point, integrity, consistent point of view
Like Lang, and Adams, Stieglitz had in all they came to do;
Then there it was, Pat Geddes’ stuff which Tessa showed to me –
A grain of sand, a catalyst – formed crystal – now I see.

It's not that I'd not seen it in my work – for it was there –
 It's more a shift in emphasis which made me more aware;
It integrates the themes in life of "work", and "place", and "kin"
With missing piece – dynamics there – not just where we have been.

For culture is dynamic now just as in days of yore;
We're on the move, we shift our base, adapting more and more;
But what abides when we adapt? Do we sell out the past
When we adjust with context change? What are the parts that last?

For me, I went from Echo-Land up with the Northern Cree,
To Echo-Land out on the plains, it's still a part of me;
Then at Echo-Land in ritzy ’burbs (there trauma rose for me);
Then Echo-Land back in the Bush, took photographs with glee.

But coming South intensified that culture-clash within –
Thought I was home, but I was not, for Echo-Land had been
My culture's home throughout the years, thus essence of my quest
I saw in part (took many years) now Geddes’ thought is best:

The link is "work" between each "place" and "people who reside"
The Maritimes have fisher-folk, made ships with masts so high:
Now oil that's on the shelf dictates a shift in culture's base,
But "work" as folk extract the crude is link twixt "folk" and "place".

Until there's work to do with oil, (then called by man "resource"),
A culture takes its shape and form from other work of course;
If both survive, the cultures mix till one or other fades –
We mourn the loss, don't understand, as to its rest it's laid.

First Nations had the buffalo, and beaver-pelts to trap;
The first was part of daily life for eons dating back;
The latter rose and whitemen came and wanted beaver felt
To make their hats for gentlemen constructed from the pelt.

But then the farms and fences came to feed a hungry world;
The search for oil and minerals set cultures in a swirl;
I could not see connection there – I couldn't see the link,
But Geddes said, "It's in the work", which really made me think.

"Of course", "That's it", "I see it now" – the key is labour’s part –
I'd always liked photos take when people did embark
Upon some task dear to their hearts, which rose up from their place,
But I'd not seen dynamics there for all of human race.

Ron Engh has shown a formula for making pix for stock –
He had his four ingredients, but formulas I mock,
For cynically I looked at them, they work for always can
Supply the wherewithal to keep cash flowing to "The Man".

But now I see, through Geddes’ eyes, a deeper layer of there –
The formula dynamics grasps, and helps us he aware
Of how life works for each and all, each picture slices time,
And serves it up to help us see, our cultures to refine.

For cultures are approximate, a mix of good and bad;
The salt, and light, and leaven come improving what we've had;
But salt is not the food itself, the same for leaven, light –
 They simply raise the quality of life, and set things right.

But culture's just a way of life folks make when doing "tasks";
And "task" emerges from the "land" or "place" as in the past;
"Work " is the missing link for me – the part I could not see –
The basis for new culture it, which lets me finally be –

Be who I am within a world quite strange where e'er I live;
Be who I am as cultures change; and to my neighbour give
A helping hand, resourcing life, each day as in the past;
For now I know from whence it comes, the meaning’s there at last.

For when we have a larger view, the changes made each day,
Don't bother us, they're more like waves which pass us on our way;
The culture we'd defined as "home", locked on throughout each life –
It stabilizes in the flow, and centers us in strife.

And parts of it continue on as generations pass –
Some good, some bad, some quite mundane – surprising what will last –
But now I see dynamics which set limits to our lives:
The link is "work" which comes from "place" and "culture-change" it drives.

It's not that we must farmers be, or workers underground;
The tapestry of life is rich, so mix of work is found;
And we can push the limits of the envelope of place,
But by and large "work" flows from "land" in each and every case.

My time's been spent assisting folks to find their place in life;
I'm good at it, but hampered by that culture-clashing strife;
It took a while to comprehend "Third Culture Kid" and things
Related to my Echo Land, of which I like to sing.

But now I see the basis for our changing culture's tone –
It's "place", and "work" derived from it, which sets the scope of "home".
What we decide to do with that is open to each man,
For life goes on through thick and thin – we do the best we can.

So there it is, the bigger pix, wherein we spend our days;
How simple, yet how elegant – fit subject for our praise;
For we're not doomed to live in caves, though can if such we choose,
But culture is adaptable – for those who move, good news.

So what's my role in life these days as life comes to an end?
It's much the same as life before, it's just another bend –
I work within the world of thought, make sense of what's around
Then help folks see a bigger pix than what to date they've found.

That's meant I've got to look around at life down through the years;
It's cost a lot; results were good; some pleasure and some tears;
I found I've worked outside the norms, but that's part of the turf;
God made me kind of curious, I've been that way since birth.

Right now I'm writing up some stuff discovered in the past,
In the in novel form, and poetry, in photos, film, it's cast;
I am no Keats or Hemingway, (they sell mine by the pound)
But hey, it works for me just fine, mixed in some truth is found –

The area that's core for me both now and early on,
Is "cultures of diversity" and "how they swirl around";
And "how to cope", "get on with life", "not sell out for a buck
The best in life because ‘The Man’ has had a bit of luck".

For me God is the core of life, He made us, is involved in it:
He wants us to mature in life, helps out so problem's solved;
He has some thoughts on quality, as shared them through his folk,
That life might be worthwhile for all, at all can laugh and joke.

Now I have seen a larger part of life within this mix,
I think I'll celebrate and share this insight through my pix,
And writing, sharing, any way which opens up for me –
For I was blind about all this, was blind, but now I see.

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