THE FEATURE: Rachel Wolfe, Photographer

I am very excited to feature artist Rachel Wolfe for her works in photography.  Looking through what I’m sure is just a drop in the bucket of her brilliance was an enriching, breathtaking, and humbling experience.  I quickly knew I would need another pair of eyes and recruited my sister, Sarah, to help do the very difficult but fun job of picking just a few photos from her personal website.  It was so clear to both of us, as we viewed each picture, that Ms. Wolfe walks through her life developing photos in her eye; noticing shapes, colors, shades, textures, and subjects.  Rachel captures in her photography what many of us see regularly, such as lint or rotten fruit peels, and transforms it into a piece of art that makes you feel.  Her work takes you along to the places this magnificent woman has been, showing you structures of ice, the most beautiful land and cityscapes, and a few of the faces she has come across in her life.  Sarah and I were absolutely blown away at how versatile she is as an artist, constantly changing her approach and having the pure talent of presenting each photo in a completely different light.   I thank each and every one of you with so much love for being here and encourage you to continue to support Rachel by hopping over to her website where you can see all of these and many more.  To you all, enjoy. [For your viewing pleasure, click the photos to enlarge].

Website: http://www.rachelwolfe.com/

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/RachelWolfeIsAPerson

Special THANKS to you, Rachel, for giving me permission to share.  

All are original works of Rachel Wolfe, please respect the artist by remembering this

Journal Entry

Click to Enlarge 

Born

I touched the space between his eyes

To give the powers from the moon

Connected love from tip to mind

As light from windows filled the room

My soft lips pressed against his skin

Igniting worlds into his flesh

That lined the universe within

Insuring that his life was blessed

Salem

Was many moons ago

They hung me to my death

And from my lungs dispersed 

My last eternal breath 

In waking in this flesh

I am recalling me

When lived a life the year

‘Fore 1693

That time in this old world

My place within the stitch

Had earned the dreadful name

Of sinful, wicked witch

The people didn’t know

Of how I saw the sky

And what there was in me

That learned of how to fly

This Is Love

I asked to see.
I was first shown the absence.
This is how I saw.

Now I see it everywhere.  I am glad.
It is taking me time but it is getting better each day.
It calls you;
It calls me;
It calls everyone.

Few answer the call so many live in illusion.
Those who answer go through trials and tribulations but come to understanding much stronger.
In the others' avoidance, however, their pain lasts longer still.

Don't fear.  There is eternal awareness of it all and love burns always.
The Divine in me loves the Divine in you and this is why the earth turns 'round.
We are all circling the love of what brought us here.
And we, like it, help to create our lives alongside it.
And this is good.
And this is love.