having new eyes

The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeing new landscapes, but in having new eyes.

Marcel Proust

God not only permits but also wants us to enter a realm that in some cases has a lot of question marks.  A place where we struggle.  A place where  we strive to see things not outwardly visible.  He wants us to look at things differently.  To go deeper.  To not merely read his Word at the surface level.  He wants us to wonder.  To observe.  To see without presupposing.  He wants us to process our observations, to meditate on them, and with them, frame our faith. (131)

In Framing Faith, American photojournalist Matt Knisely documents his fascination with storytelling, driven by the conviction that every story matters, including his own.  ‘What was my voice? What was my story?  What were my defining moments? It was unsettling to realise I didn’t know’ (6)  He had been brought up on Bible stories but discovered he needed to ask ‘how had these faith adventures and struggles, successes and triumphs, doubts and revelations of so many subjects exposed in Scripture framed the course of my own journey of faith?’ (7)  He goes on to outline the building bricks required to tell the story that God reveals to us, whether that story is told in image or word.

First, we need to pay attention because ‘God calls on us every single day’(17), without notice, and Knisely believes ‘that good photographers have a knack for capturing moments that reveal life nonposed.  They can bring into vivid focus defining moments of significance.  And what makes these vivid frames resonate is the photographer’s attention to details.’ (9)  Since ‘story is communal’ we have to develop storytelling skills because ‘to grab hold of and keep your audience’s attention, you need to be intentional about leaning how to tell stories and practising your craft’ (22)  Photographers need these skills for ‘recounting the visual narrative’, yet every believer, not just self-styled artists or creatives, needs these skills, since they are Kingdom tools. ‘The purpose of story is to generate a relationship - to promote trust and intimacy, to gain acceptance, and to have an emotionally healing experience.’ (29)

Second, Knisely talks at length about the need to be authentic in the telling of our stories because ‘perfectionism is the voice of the oppressed, the enemy’ (44).  A story won’t be able to affect/inspire/motivate anyone ‘if our fear of imperfection keeps us from sharing it’ (46).  Since too often ‘we let the distractions in our lives rewrite our stories’(59) he insists that stories need to be made by people who listen, noting that we can learn from artists down the ages who have demonstrated that ‘creatives live in the details… visually listening’ (60).

Although I didn’t use this language at the time, I can see that my desire to deepen my own visual listening became the raison d’être for this shot at ten paces blog; arising out of  my groping, cloudy conviction that despite my tentative faith, revelation was happening, God was in the details of my life.  And I could perhaps begin to see some of them through God’s eyes, and communicate how God’s revelation occurs largely unnoticed, by using a camera lens.  Similarly for Knisely, ‘God is in the details of a story.  The nooks and crannies.  The gaps.  The subtle nuances within the image. The spaces between the words and intonation‘ (61).  

So authentic storytelling becomes about finding moments - because without a moment there is no story - where I can trust my instincts, let my heart engage, know ‘there is pain in the process’ and ‘surrender the quest of perfectionism to the plausible.’ (70)  Only by considering viewpoint, context, depth and emotion can I provide perspective for my viewer, reader or listener.  So Knisely warns that finding out what our stories are, and how we can communicate them skilfully, requires knowing that

the precise arrangement of forms, artistic composition, and narrative are what make the moment powerful.  Capture.  Sktech.  record.  Write.  Jot.  Archive the memorable.  Learn to identify those momenta and recognise what they look like.  Patience is a must; time is your friend and not your keeper.  You need to be spontaneous and incredibly meticulous, refined and highly disciplined. (71)

Third, Knisely is interested in creating images that are stories and can be used as visual reminders to follow God’s will not our own.  We create stories for our own sake, and for the sake of others, because God has created us to create.  Are we willing to let go of our fears about not being a creative person really and ‘let [God’s] feelings about us be more important to us than how others view us?’ (116) Our talents & gifts, that are unique to us, are meant to be shared with the larger body of Christ and Knisely challenges us: ’In God’s grand composition of this world, are you willing to let him use you to make it more beautiful?’ (118)

Throughout his book, Knisely returns time and again to his conviction that we all need to share our stories for the sake of own faith journey, but also for the sake of the Kingdom.  ‘I firmly believe God has designed us to share our whole stories, stories that include both extremely transformative and disgustingly dark moments.  In sharing the entire narrative of our lives, we act in surrender.’ (143)  He reminds us that the story we are witness to is the revelation in our own lives that ‘our God is the God who wastes nothing.  Who redeems everything’ (149).   He urges us to live as children of the Light who ‘see more clearly when we trust more deeply’ (159).

Lastly, Knisely knows that telling stories enriches and strengthens our faith, creating a framework ‘that is uniquely ours, making us uniquely his.’ (162)  For Knisely, ‘taking a picture has holy significance.  It is a likeness, and in that, it stands for something much, much more.  The pictures I create are not the same ones I photographed - they are more; they are images that matter and stretch one’s feelings and experiences.  Each image says something about my identity and who I am.’ (110) His work is characterised by very strong visual simplicity, and he loves minimalism, so it is not surprising that he feels the need to warn us to be wary of ‘unintentional fuzziness’:

each photo I take needs to say something very clearly.  The message and the meaning cannot be ambiguous.  The images shape my half-articulated feelings, casting light into my inner depths and exposing my deepest, truest self. (124)

It is not always easy to discuss visual clarity and although I imagined I would be better at it having just written a series on ‘focus’, I find I’m still unsure how to achieve this in my own work.  I wonder how authentic my storytelling is, and whether I too often resort to the ‘pretty shot’, despite all my insistence on the contemplative process in theory.  I am aware it is all too easy for me to retreat to a head space, rather than creating from a heart space, so I question whether I hide behind potentially intellectualised cropped details and abstracts; or am I truly conveying the wonder of God being in the details of every part of life in front of me? I ask myself: how easy it is really for viewers to comprehend my point of view or decipher what story I am trying to tell?  What is it God might be trying to reveal through me?  And where might I have to go, what might I have to be, in order to show it? 

I will continue to work all this through as part of my creative recovery process, as I continue to learn how to trust the gifts of seeing and interpretation I have been given, but Knisely’s book helps remind me that my overarching desire is that my images might point to our God, 

for all the promises of God in Jesus are Yes, and in Him Amen, to the glory of God through us.

(Hebrews 6.13)