Learning to See

This past weekend, I found myself on what felt like a pilgrimage to The Mint Museum Uptown to see the Annie Leibovitz / Work exhibit. I have been a student and fan of her photography since the late 1990s and likely knew some of her famous images long before I knew her name. Part of the opening inscription at the exhibit said, “Her pictures of people and events are indelibly imprinted on our minds and memories.” So true.

Perhaps her most iconic and intimate image is of John Lennon, naked and curled around a clothed Yoko Ono. It was taken in their apartment just hours before he was killed in December 1980. Seeing that image up close and in person was nothing short of breathtaking. Having that particular image and many others imprinted in my mind for decades, going to the exhibit was like visiting with old friends.  

Annie Leibovitz once said, “You can have what you think is the best equipment, and it doesn't help if you can't see. It takes years to understand how to see. It just takes doing it over and over and over. One of the reasons I'm still doing it is I love to do it. I love to look.”

For me, photography is a life-giving passion because it requires intentionality to tune into the world around me, see what’s there, and take deeper notice. Whether you’re into photography or not, I believe it can be a personal spiritual practice to notice light and shadow, the juxtaposition of God-made and human-made shapes and patterns, and to really take in the people around us – loved ones and strangers alike.    

Daily acts of noticing and realizing our deep connectedness can help enrich and illuminate our faith. When we notice, we can see God in our lives more clearly – in community and in creation. And like in the New Testament story of the blind man Bartimaeus, our invitation is not just to see, but to follow the way of Christ.

With light and gratitude

Emily+