‘But this isn’t just a tree. It’s a spirit! How do you photograph a spirit?’

I knew I had my work cut out when a wonderfully excited lady posed this question to me on a recent workshop in Snowdonia. Me and the group had been wandering the national park already for around six hours when we passed an enchanting looking ancient oak tree. I was pretty keen to get us to the next location in time for a sunset but it seemed as though the tree had spoken to one of the attendees, and she pulled us up to register her interest in answering the call from within. She told me how beautiful she had found the ancient oak to be, standing alone, surrounded by an army of silver birch trees, and wanted to know how she might go about photographing it to tell its’ story.

Upon further investigation, me and the group quickly agreed that it was one of the most striking things that we had seen that day. The sentient oak was standing gracefully just above the track on a rocky outcrop, towering over its’ neighbouring sibling, laden with moss that was looking ever so vibrant in the early spring light, with its’ roots, partially on show, anchoring it to the earth, and its’ branches reaching, twisting and contorting into the vast, empty space above.

As I always do before thinking about the photograph, I patrolled the outskirts of the tree, silencing my mind, seeking connection with the subject. As discussed with the group earlier in the day, this step is vital to my creative process and, only very rarely, will I break out the camera to ‘snap’ a quick photograph before moving on. This connection to my environment, and the chosen subject, is incredibly important to me, much more so than any resulting photograph, as I seek to deepen my love of and connection with ‘Gaia’; the soul and life force of planet earth itself.

Whilst patrolling, I began talking to the group about potential stories to tell of the tree in its’ environment, looking at its’ shape and imagining movements, with imagination and storytelling now being a vital component in my own art. It was during this part of the demonstration that the attendee posed a question that hasn’t stopped circling my mind since that day. The kind of question that goes far beyond the surface level, technical camera jargon, and right into the depths of the art of seeing in photography;

‘How do you photograph a spirit?’

That was almost 2 months ago now, and I finally feel compelled and inspired to write after spending the past week at The Old Bell in Montgomery with my ‘A Year Amongst Trees’ exhibition, during which I was able to reflect deeply about my journey so far, and speak to many people about what the trees mean to me, as well as hearing some beautiful stories of what they mean to them, too. I found myself becoming engaged in many enlightening conversations about the deeper and more spiritual connection that we all seem to share with the trees in some way, and it appears as though I’m not the only one that reconnected with them, and Mother Nature as a whole, when the world shutdown back in 2020 and 2021.

A photograph of two trees in fog by Brad Carr.

TREES - FROM SPIRITUAL ROOTS

Take a walk outdoors almost anywhere in the world and you’re likely to be within reaching distance of a tree. Trees are literally everywhere, and they have been everywhere throughout history seemingly. If you read many ancient religious texts you are likely to come across trees that play a significant role in the story being told. Think of the ‘Tree of Knowledge’ in The Garden of Eden in Christianity and Judaism, and the sacred fig tree, or ‘Bodhi’ tree in Buddhism. The fig is also represented in Hinduism, too.

In mythology and folklore, stories of trees become even more interesting, however, and this is where we begin hearing stories of spirits within the trees. In Norse mythology, the entire universe centres around an enormous ash tree named Yggdrasil, from which came all of life itself. In Greek mythology, the oak is the sacred tree of Zeus, and it is through the rustling leaves of an oak tree that ancient Greeks would hear his voice echoing. Also in Greek mythology, a ‘hamadryade’ is a nymph or nature spirit that lives in trees and takes the form of a beautiful woman. If a tree was cut down by mortal beings, the gods would punish them, since the spirits within the trees were believed to die, too. In Celtic mythology and folklore, trees are widely celebrated beings, too, and some believed that we actually descend from them. Hazel trees are believed to be the first creation here on earth, and the oak tree makes up the symbol for the ‘Tree of Life.’ The Celts are thought to have gathered around oak trees as part of rituals and rites, and, at some stage throughout history, worshipped a goddess of the oak tree, named Daron.

In a recent article that I wrote, titled ‘Seeking Stillness’, I make reference to a particular lake that is lined with silver birch trees as the place that I withdraw to when I need to silence the noise of the outside world, and hear my inner voice clearly. The voice within, that might be referred to by some as ‘god’ is, perhaps, what the ancient Greeks were hearing when they sat beneath the rustling oak leaves all those years ago.

SEEING THE WORLD - A REFLECTION OF THE SELF

A large part of my own art relies on me turning trees into characters within my stories. This attribution of human traits and characteristics to trees is called, ‘anthropomorphism’, and is widely used throughout human psychology as a way of making sense of inanimate objects. I often look for movement in my characters, to tell better stories, too. In the photograph below, for example, that I titled, ‘First Dance’, I spotted a linking of the branches that created a narrative of the two sycamore trees waltzing across the hilltop and away into the warm, golden sunlight.

‘First Dance’ - a photograph of two sycamore trees by Brad Carr.

I’d like to transport us back to the beginning of 2021, around the time when I created ‘First Dance’ on a hilltop on the outskirts of Welshpool. It was a time of chaos and confusion in the wider world; especially if you had your eyes fixed on the news. In my world, it was a time of relative order and certainty. I felt a much needed sense of peace, tranquillity and stillness around my home for the first time in memory. Plenty of walks outdoors in the nearby Welsh countryside gave me the time and space to think deeply about my own place here on earth. It was throughout this time that I reflected on my own life, and retraced the steps of the spiritual path that I had been walking along for the past few years. It was a year for intense ‘soul searching’, if you like.

I found myself looking towards the trees and woodland, seeking sanctuary and healing; places for refuge and stability in my life. Many of the trees became ever-present characters in my life; most of them male to my imagination, and all of them, extremely patient, consistent, and wise. The consistency that these figures showed was something that I had never experienced in my early life, and I began building trust with a world that I found to be rather fragmented as I grew up and moved around the country between different homes. I am grateful to have connected with the trees on a much deeper and spiritual level throughout 2021, and I began to see them and photograph them in more than their physical form.

It was a year that changed me for the better (for those of you who know me, I am always one to look for the positives within any situation), as I was able to find my sense of self, and gain greater clarity of purpose and new direction. At the beginning of the year, I had recently left a place of employment within an industry that didn’t allow me to make use of my full arsenal of skills and gifts, and I felt as though I was now all alone on a stage, with a spotlight shining down on me.

‘Limelight’ - a photograph of a dead tree by Brad Carr

Many of the photographs that I produced throughout that year were heavily influenced by my nan, and came as a result of some of the stories that she told me at the end of 2020 that dramatically changed how I see the world, and served to reconnect me with the child inside. That child was, perhaps, a little more in tune with his own ‘spirit’ or ‘soul’ than later versions of me were. My nan’s use of her imagination; of looking within for the stories, instead of outside, her daring to be different, and showing enough courage to share some of her innermost thoughts; parts of her own soul, perhaps, had an impact on me that runs deeper than she will ever know. I began looking at the world with my minds’ eye instead of limiting myself to the two that most of us have always known.

It is my belief that messages are sent to all of us along our way through life, and it is up to us to be open enough to receive and implement them. One of my messengers came in the form of a sweet elderly lady in a blue knitted jumper, who came to sit next to me on Boxing Day of 2020 to look through some photographs of big rocks in Scotland. She saw faces in those big rocks, and she saw children playing beside a stream in another of the photographs. They weren’t there in my world, but who’s to say that she was wrong? Perhaps my nan, as well as that childhood version of me, had a stronger connection with the spirit that lived inside. As Anais Nin so eloquently put it,

“We don't see things as they are, we see them as we are”

The Spirit Within

So, perhaps one of the first steps to take if you wish to ‘photograph a spirit’, is to find, or strengthen the sense of spirit within yourself. Maybe that will require going off on a personal mission of your own with your camera, and a pen and paper in hand to make sense of the story that you want to tell to the world. To understand this, we need to look inwards, so that we might be able to gain a deeper understanding of who we are, what has shaped us, and what series of events has led us here to this moment behind the camera? Looking inwards to better understand ourselves, allows us to better understand others, and in turn, this means that we can better understand this world that we inhabit; trees, lakes, rivers, mountains, and all.

Perhaps we might take a leaf out of my nan’s book, and reconnect with the childlike version of ourselves; the one that exists in its’ purest form, is wildly curious, rich and vibrant in spirit, and lives inside of its’ own imagination. When we have done this, maybe then we can begin to create photographs about things, rather than of things. In one sense, these are all, of course, photographs of trees. Look below the surface and you’ll see that they are photographs about trees, hence the reason why I like to offer titles and narratives to lots of my photographs, and, if you look a little bit deeper still, then you might see that they are photographs about myself, too.

‘A Gathering of the Tribe’ - A photograph by Brad Carr.

Maybe, by connecting with whatever it is that exists beyond this physical form of ourselves, we will start to see ‘beyond’ in the beings in the world that surrounds us. Perhaps we can learn from films such as ‘Avatar’, and connect with the trees beyond merely hugging them.

In ‘Avatar’, director James Cameron portrays a giant willow-like tree, called ‘The Tree of Souls’ on the planet ‘Pandora’. It is a tree that is of extreme importance to the native ‘Na’vi’ clan because it is the point of closest connection to ‘Eywa’ (or as we humans might prefer to call ‘Gaia’), the planets’ life force, or soul. In the film, the clan are seen to gather at the tree and connect their ‘queues’, a kind of tail from the head that houses a set of tendrils that, when connected with one of the ‘queues’ that stem from the roots of the ‘Tree of Souls’, enables mental communication between all connected entities simultaneously, and allows for the sharing of information, which includes emotions and memories.

It is from this wonderful film that we can see a representation, albeit from one mans’ imagination, of what a raising of collective ‘consciousness’ might look like. Maybe through visits of our own to one of our favourite sacred trees or areas of woodland, can we seek to become more ‘conscious’ ourselves, and connect with that special something that exists beyond our bodies that serves to make this human experience so fascinating and beautiful. Maybe then we can begin to look at ourselves as more than just a physical body walking across this earth, and realise that we are all connected to something that is much bigger than us.

The past half-decade or so, for me, has been something of my own spiritual journey; one that has helped me to connect with the deepest parts of myself and uncover some more of my own soul. It has also forced me to ask many questions to try to understand more about this existence beyond what we see represented in the physical plain. I believe that frequent visits to some special places here in Wales, and time spent amongst some truly wonderful woodland within that time, has helped me to become more ‘conscious’ as a human being. With more time in nature, I have become more attuned to and accepting of the sensitive side of my personality and I find that I can better empathise with and understand myself. With that, many of my relationships have, therefore, become much deeper and richer, and that includes my relationship with Mother Nature, and the spirit or soul that exists within all beings; in particular, the trees to which I have developed a special affinity. The further I seem to walk along my own way, learning about myself as I go, the deeper and more interesting the narratives in my photographs appear to become. By looking inward, I see more on the outside. By getting closer to the spirit on the inside, I believe that I’m getting closer to the spirit that exists within this world.