Time and again, my camera leads me to the threshold of discovery, that shimmery place where boundaries dissolve and new worlds reveal themselves to the willing traveler. Today’s photo challenge, liminal, is new to my vocabulary. I explored its depths and breadth by reading, took notes, and then translated my findings into words and pictures that make sense to me.
Liminal comes to us from the Latin word limen. In the literal and figurative sense, it refers to some kind of boundary or threshold. And as you know, we encounter lots of jumping-off, stepping-over, and slipping-through, liminal moments in our lifetimes.
Sometimes we find ourselves drifting in a place that’s neither Here nor There, perhaps waiting on some unseen hand to lift the misty veil of uncertainty. So it is with many things, the creative process among them. It’s a shallow place, with dangerous undercurrents. Our inner critic calls out from the rocks, sings to us the siren songs of despair and disillusion. If we’re the impatient optimistic sort, this quickly leads us to the liminal point where we haul in the anchor and set sail for the Uncharted Place where anything is possible.
Weathervane on red tile roof (San Clemente, California)
Forest openings and locked gates, prison towers and poisoned apples…the hero’s journey is fraught with choices. Real and imagined dangers lurk around every corner. Read another way, it’s these liminal moments that shake us awake at dawn and–assuming there’s a fairy tale ending–lead us from Once Upon a Time to Happily-ever-after.
Saddleback Mountain, silhouetted by the dawn’s early light
Liminal points can also be literal. Stucco archways that frame the ocean, mosaic tiles that arrest your eye, and the staircase that meanders down a flowery path before finding its sandy terminus at the water’s edge…all liminal.
Casa Romantica (“Spanish Villa by the Sea” in San Clemente, California)
A liminal space invite you to step over the threshold, to knock on the door between Here and There. Maybe it’s inside, maybe it’s outside. It all depends on where you’re standing when the door swings open.
Liminal things: India ink, spilling from the nib of a storyteller’s pen; plumeria buds, unfurling into snowy white pinwheels with yellow centers; and water that bubbles and bursts, escape and return to their oyster shell existence.
Liminal events are the portals of transformation, the handmaidens of sacred rituals.
Always and Never, Everywhere and Nowhere…liminal points open up for interpretation the concepts of time and space. Perspectives shift. Feelings are transient. We listen for the space between the notes, and the things we once took for granted are now recognized as ephemeral.
Piano tuner at Casa Romantica. I’m fascinated by the placement of his hat. It occupies a liminal space.
Camouflaged as it is by dappled shade, this leaf suggests the liminal qualities of life itself…the interplay of shadow and light, and the interstices between being and not-being. Whoa, that’s deep.
Window Leaf Philodendron
Liminal. I rather like this word, don’t you? It’s mental yoga for people like me, who do some of their best thinking behind the camera lens. I’ve only just brushed the surface, so please, weigh in with your own definitions and examples!
For previous photography challenge entries, click here.
On a more personal note: During my brother’s illness, I didn’t give much thought to my promise to do a write-up about Father Serra’s canonization ceremony. It got reprioritized again, in that liminal time after Roger’s passing. But while it’s more succinct than I originally envisioned, it’s ready now. I’ll post it after the weekend.
Really loved this one. Discovering the imagery and metaphor for your writing in nature. Beautiful.
On the whole, imagery comes easy for me; but whew, I really had to work for this one! Thank goodness for the academics who helped me make sense of this abstract notion. Making it my own was the hardest part, but you know me: I love a challenge!
I loved this post. Liminal. A new word that rolls around on my tongue. Can my life be liminal? As I move further into grandparenthood/husband’s retirement time? Love your images and poetry. Keep it up, Melodye.
Fun word, isn’t it? Magical, even. I do believe you’re encountering some of the very things this word connotes and denotes. Praying that your troubles are transient, and wishing for you an abundance of open doors, welcoming arms, and flexible mindsets. xoxo
Beautifully done Melodye. I’m glad you like that word. For me, it packs such a range of meanings, and I’m often recognising that I’m in a liminal space in my life. My late father and I used to play a game. I would find a Czech word and tell him that there was no word for word translation in English, and he, being the private school British doctor, would almost always find an English equivalent meaning and then give me a word to do the same with in Czech. Liminal was one of those English words which is so unique that I couldn’t translate it into Czech or Russian or German. Useful word. (By the way, the Czech word simpaticka -simpatico in Italian, has no proper word for word English translation…lol)
PS: there’s a link to Sabine up on the blog now. 😀
Liminal was also new to me and has been a wonderful exploration.
Your words and images are beautiful, rich and deep in meaning. Thank you.
Very interesting exploration of the definition of a word that I had seen but hadn’t understood before.
I want that weathervane!
goodness, yes, i an follow your writing, what a dab eye you are having and describing wonderfully. now i’m enthralled by that hat, there on the treshold of water… this makes me smile so. n♥
oops… my c got stuck… ;))) n♥
Liminal is a new word to me too – I love your Exploration and writing.
(Sorry, I am not so good in English writing 😉
Lucia
I very much enjoyed your reflections on the word ‘liminal’, along with your photographic interpretations. I had to look the word up, too.
Your blog is almost always a dose of what I’d call lyrical seeing and feeling. Beautiful, but quiet moments captured and contextualized by a true poet. Thank you for this, Melodye.
A poet, eh? I’m oftentimes called that, but I don’t think of myself that way. Maybe it’s my Bible-based upbringing…there’s an almost limitless supply of metaphors in the Old and New Testament.