Susan Sontag wrote, “Do stuff. be clenched, curious. Not waiting for inspiration’s shove or society’s kiss on your forehead. Pay attention. It’s all about paying attention. attention is vitality. It connects you with others. It makes you eager. stay eager.” She’s basically suggesting we get involved in life and continually observe.
I’m a born observer. It’s in my DNA. You’ll find it’s what I used to call my online space even though now it’s simply mentioned in the header. Being an observer has saved my butt — literally and figuratively — on numerous occasions. In fact, being a keen observer is likely also why I’ve always had such an innate ability to ‘read’ animals.
Many of us lay claim to be strongly aware of the countless tiny, private observances that enrich our day: the stripes of sunlight painted across our favourite chair, the steam swirling up from your morning coffee, the dappled shadows on the lawn under a tree. These little observances happen all day, every day, yet each day they take on a unique manifestation.
In school, I was a very shy, quiet person. Quite the opposite of how I walk through the world now. Quiet people always know more than what they seem to know. Multiple times, as a kid, when I knew an answer to something the teacher might be asking, I never raised my hand in the air, nor would I utter an answer I already knew if called upon by a teacher. Teachers and students alike surely thought I had little knowledge of anything or that I paid no attention. But they were quite wrong in that assumption. I simply didn’t wish to bring attention to myself in those days. The irony is, because I appeared ‘dumb’ and appeared to not know any of the answers, I brought negative attention to myself.
In Junior High School (referred to as Middle School in some parts), I remember a science project we were to do and it was to have a significant percentage toward our final mark in the class. We had a choice of topics which would demonstrate our knowledge of the various sections learned through the year. I chose the section on ecology. It was a chance to actually do something that I enjoyed and knew something about while not having to worry about a stressful test. Most of my fellow science students were upset and many were stressed and would have preferred a test.
I set out to the bush that I knew so well. Yes, I used to spend a great deal of time walking through the brush, breaking spider webs with my face, arms and legs being scratched from the wild roses and dried deadfall. I felt comfortable there and always was intrigued by what I observed. For my project, I took photographs of things likes mosses & lichens growing on fallen logs; how fungi grow on the trees; feathers scattered from where an owl had made a recent kill; the dried remains of a hare; a cluster of busy ants; droplets of dew that provided water for insects; and so on. After getting the black & white photographs developed I glued them on pages and wrote descriptions for each detailing the relationships and interactions of the things I had observed. It was the easiest thing I had ever done for school. It wasn’t fancy and perhaps even had a crude presentation with the photos being glued to the paper.
Boy, did my ‘paper’ ever surprise the science teacher. Not only did it earn one of the highest marks I’d ever received, but the teacher wrote a note saying what an excellent project it was and how impressed he was with my interpretations. Little did he know, those were simple observances I was used to making every day and how easy it came to me. I admit to being incredibly proud of that project and, to this day, it warms my heart having been acknowledged for my simple act of observing.
“Observation is a dying art.” — Stanley Kubrick
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I’ve been working on a short little video that would have been the ideal pairing for this post. Unfortunately it is not complete yet because … I’m busy taking in life. Instead I thought I’d share a little something for the writers out there:
Writers know that observation is key to enriching your works. So I’m providing a bonus link for you. The Power of Observation: How to Observe and Improve Your Writing by Cris Freese with additional advice from Barbara Baig.
Wishing you all a week full of curiosity.
Yes, learning by looking, not simply seeing, as one early teacher explained it.She also said that we should listen to what we heard. A bit too esoteric for some of the class, but that has stayed with me all these years.
I am sure that, had you simply “googled it” the lesson would not have been a pleasure, remembered all these years later.
Oh Diane, I so relate. I had the great fortune to be a free range child. Our house backed onto miles and miles of woods where I would spend full days exploring, noting the under canopy, wildflowers, the small spring fed lakes and streams, the old rotted duck blinds, the smells, the rocks, and more. When I was in university I would go horseback riding at a friend’s parents’ farm on the weekends. We followed trails through the woods that led us to old fieldstone foundations, overgrown lilacs, wild roses and apple trees. I later discovered that many of these places were abandoned in 1918 when the Spanish influenza tore through these settlements. Anyway, I’m rambling! Thank you so much for this lovely post. 🙂
the more of your writings i read, the more convinced i become that we’re related
perfect selection of detailed observations to accompany your words and each one is incredible in it’s own right
i’ve seen pictures for sale in stores just like your third one of the trees. it would look incredible hanging on a wall painted grey.
i must say i’m intrigued by the beauty of the spider web and so glad the owner of the home was out exploring when you captured the photo : – )