I Feel Free - Kim Clune

Portrait by Judy Lasher

" Life is your art. An open, aware heart is your camera. A oneness with your world is your film." - Ansel Adams

How do I move forward with one foot in the grave?

I loved my life leading back-country photography expeditions among magnificent wildlife, capturing authentic love and joyous celebrations of marriage, and seeing my students’ joy when learning to use their cameras creatively — until cancer struck.

Treatment was grueling. My bones were a prison.

I’d beat the walls with my fists wanting out of my body. I welcomed the release that death promised. I longed for it.

I was not prepared to live.

And yet I did.

My creativity, typically a life raft in times of trouble, was log-jammed at the juncture of disbelief and grief. That is ... until I heard Karen ask, “Can you feel your legs?”

While listening to The Artist’s Voice's beautiful introductory meditation, I was asked to assess what I felt through every inch of my body. I realized, then, how wholly disconnected I had become.

Pairing reintegration with my love for visual expression? The thought of it was balm for my aching soul. There was no question. I knew I needed this.

Early on, Karen gifted me with the word “free.” How could she know that this one word would break me wide open? “I see it in you,” she said. “I just do.”

I felt like she granted me permission to release my grief. Sometimes it takes someone outside of yourself to say, “Go ahead. It’s okay” before you believe it.

That night, I curled into my husband’s arms and released the tears I’d carried for so long.

I wasn’t just learning about photography ...

I was learning to live again.

Before The Artist’s Voice, I made images that I still feel proud of, but chasing perfection while grounded in hope rather than confidence had varied results. And, once I lost hope, I couldn’t even source that.

Asked what success would look like at the end of this retreat, I chose to create a beautiful mess -- quite a vulnerable undertaking and a goal far more intimidating than working toward a masterpiece.

All emotions are valuable fuel.

Although we explored the merits of creating from a sense of awe, I knew I had to let the bad, scary, and uncomfortable move through me, too. My camera became as helpful as my journal to work through fraught emotions, including those surrounding current events -- too many children lost to gun violence. I crafted a series called Columbine Tears while seeking solace in my garden. It’s probably my most expressive work to date.

I'VE LEARNED THAT STORY can be crafted ANYWHERE from ANYTHING. AND TELLING IT is crazy FUN!

Longing for laughter, humor fueled my "Day in the Life" assignment.

I chose an ordinary spoon as my subject.

As the story goes, our salty spoon heads out for a night on the town with friends, hooks up, spoons, kisses, forks (not shown here to spare innocent eyes), cuddles, and rejoins its friends in the light of day -- for the walk of shame home.

The best part of creating this series? Hearing the laughter of others as I shared.

Lead with Love

These words grace the ceramic tile that Karen sent me. It's how she led us through her process and how we began practicing expression over perfection.

Sketches came forth as freely as a breeze. No rules. No pressure. I just felt my way through.

The wildest thing? We all felt it -- in ourselves and in each other -- building with exponential momentum. The more we shared, the more we were impacted, and the further we were inspired. We photographed awe-inspiring things. Yes. But we found a sense of awe in each other, too. And we watched it manifest in the most beautiful, tactile shift, changing how we see the world and create the art we make.

Healing energy lives in the process as much as the outcome.

To find support in my legs, ease in my breath, and my still point within -- it’s no longer a tentative search. It’s a restorative meditation that helps me to see in fresh new ways (and not just in photography).

I’m so grateful to Karen for bringing this retreat into the light. The Artist’s Voice is exactly what I needed at exactly the right time.

I wish everyone could learn to “human” this way, and at an earlier age. The world would be a kinder, gentler place.

While the story I want to tell will always change with the seasons, one remains ever-present.

Laugh in the rain. Dance with the wind.

Cry in the full light of the sun. Show up wholly, with love, no matter what.

Share. Connect. Repeat.

KIM CLUNE

Photo by Tim Clune

Animal stalker. Wade in the waterfaller. Jump in the mudder. People portraiter. Up at dawn for skyfirer. Create into the depths of nighter.

For over a decade, Kim has enjoyed a photography career instructing at New York's Arts Center of the Capital Region, shooting destination weddings from Burning Man to Costa Rica, and leading photography expeditions in Yellowstone and Alaska.

She lives in Upstate New York with her beloved husband Tim, two Newfoundland dogs, and one very crafty cat.

My camera is my passport.

It transports me from vast landscapes to tiny worlds. This brings me unspeakable joy.

I sculpt with light, unearthing all the depth that a two-dimensional space can offer -- until I feel a hitch in my breath and a knowing in my heart that says,

"This is it. This is what I felt when I was there -- when I first met you."

Once this wave of delight washes over me, my art becomes worthy of sharing. Anything less is just a snapshot.

KimClune.com