Tag: philosophy

Botanicals and the Biophilia Hypothesis – Sony RX100

Posted in Consumer Culture, Other Thoughts and Reflections, Philosophy and Photography, PhotographyTagged , , , , , , , , , , , 2 Comments

In my current, seemingly endless and potentially dull, blogging about the little Sony RX100 Mark 1 camera, I’ve realised that I really enjoy using old cameras. Not exclusively old cameras, mind, but just older cameras when the mood strikes. The very idea that I’d upgrade as soon as the latest fancy-glitter-megapixel thing hits the shelves is tedious. The whole thing is exhausting, really. It’s also why I’m excited to receive an old Nikon D70 in the post.

The sunny edges we miss

There’s some science behind the nurturing properties of spending time in nature, with reports that subjective well-being is elevated, even for people with depression and anxiety. Many people report feeling recharged when they spend time in nature, be it walking through the local forest or walking along the beach. The Biophilia Hypothesis posits that humans are innately attracted to natural places and living areas filled with biodiversity. By seeking out this connection, we truly get back to who we are as living beings.

A world of green

Have you ever wondered why stress levels are so high in urban environments? The further away we are from nature and our natural selves, the greater our risk of developing a wide range of physical and mental health problems. Even something as simple as exposure to natural light each day can promote better sleep and improved subjective well-being. And the addition of green spaces to urban areas is linked with lower levels of stress.

Bamboo in the sun

We all need connection

What would it be like to see our planet from the deep cold of space? Some astronauts report their lives being significantly changed and their views transformed after seeing earth from this unique angle. The Overview Effect is a transformative state of mind that affects some astronauts. They report that after viewing our planet suspended in the depths of space, they develop not just a new appreciation for beauty, but a deep connection to all life.

Our small blue planet, from this point of view, is incredibly fragile and special – an oasis in a cold, black vacuum. There may indeed be billions of planetary star systems out there, but we’ll likely never reach them as even the closest is impossibly distant, and beyond the reach of the best rocket science, unless there’s a sudden shift in our understanding of time and space. So, rather than pollute the sea and soil beneath our feet, we should imagine our planet as a tiny blue speck, teeming with life, finite and fragile.

Rubble and ruin on the side of the road

Posted in Philosophy and Photography, PhotographyTagged , , , , , , , , , , 4 Comments

I find old ruins fascinating. The real treasure is discovering an abandoned home, off the beaten track, weathered and worn and open to the elements. I wonder who lived there and what they did? I wonder how it came to be abandoned? There were once people in such places, living lives and making memories, and all that remains is rubble and broken space.

What was once a life – 35mm Super Takumar 3.5 on Olympus OMD EM5 Mark II

A fascination with ruins isn’t uncommon. Walking through the rubble and detritus of buildings that were once important to someone is a way of connecting to the past and also reminding ourselves that time moves forward relentlessly. All things begin and end. And we must find joy in the experience of living whilst we can, if we can. Not all lives are equal, it’s worth remembering.

The old green room – 35mm Super Takumar on Olympus OMD EM5 Mark II.

Ruins remind us that everything changes, whatever we do. Next to the behemoth of time, we’re vastly small. In some way this is a comforting thought, as even wars and bad governments will fall to the ravages of time in a way that no person, however rich and powerful, can avert. No doubt, this is a terrifying thought to people who can’t bear the reality that their power and influence will fade, and their lives will be forgotten completely.

Nature’s reclamation

Ozymandias, one of my favourite Shelley poems, provides insight into the eventual ruination of once-powerful empires:

I met a traveller from an antique land,

Who said—“Two vast and trunkless legs of stone

Stand in the desert. . . . Near them, on the sand,

Half sunk a shattered visage lies, whose frown,

And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,

Tell that its sculptor well those passions read

Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,

The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed;

And on the pedestal, these words appear:

My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings;

Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair!

Nothing beside remains. Round the decay

Of that colossal Wreck, boundless and bare

The lone and level sands stretch far away.”