Revisiting Table Rock
May 22, 2019
Last April I posted three photographs of a rock I see whenever I go to the Schoepfle Garden. In the Comments, Alan Goldsmith asked if I’d thought of photographing the rock from the same place every time. I confess that I’d only been trying to find the most interesting composition each time. But his comment lodged in my brain, and I have since tried to stick with the same view or two when I visit. So here are two photographs I took of the rock Saturday. Following those are some photos I’d taken of the rock from the same vantage points on June 2 and July 14, 2018.
Shortly after posting photos of this rock last April, I named the rock Table Rock. Now I can keyword this specific rock in Lightroom and call up its photos easily. But there’s another advantage in naming features in the landscape. For me, attaching words increases the intimacy I feel with the named thing. I can’t say why this is so. Perhaps some of you have some relevant ideas.
Romancing Reality 
Love that rock and your images. And it looks especially great after I expanded the images to fill the screen of my new 27″ iMac!
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May 22, 2019 at 9:39 PM
Thanks. You know that rock, David? Near the old railroad trestle foundation? I keep thinking I should remind people to click on the images to see them larger . . .
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May 27, 2019 at 7:43 PM
The poem “Il va neiger,” “It’s going to snow,” by French poet Francis Jammes, offered a counter-thought to yours about naming. Here’s a translation of the relevant stanza:
People have baptized the stars without thinking
That they don’t need any names, and numbers,
Which prove that lovely comets will pass along
Into the darkness, won’t make them pass along.
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May 22, 2019 at 9:59 PM
Steve, I love that poem fragment—even though it doesn’t support my notion. Thank you for it. Should anyone want to read the whole poem, which is lovely, I found this link: https://hincetinde.wordpress.com/2014/02/01/french-poetry-focus-francis-jammes-il-va-neiger/.
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May 27, 2019 at 7:44 PM
I see merit in each view. I’m glad I’ve learned the names of dozens of the local wildflowers. They give me a sense of place: only here will one find all of them.
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May 27, 2019 at 10:25 PM
This is just a fascinating series, Linda. Same subject from different views and days as well as conditions. I think this could be a long term project and well worth the effort. Also, keywording is a fantastic organizational tool. I would also like to say that I wish I could express myself as eloquently as Steve.
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May 22, 2019 at 10:37 PM
Thank you, Ken. I’ll keep at this project and will post the photos when I have another batch to share. A friend likened my rock variations to Monet’s haystack series. Nice to be compared to Monet . . . (See https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Haystacks_(Monet_series).)
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May 27, 2019 at 7:44 PM
This is an interesting approach. I think I’ll try it too.
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May 22, 2019 at 10:51 PM
Looking forward to seeing what you do, Lynda.
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May 27, 2019 at 7:45 PM
I hesitate to say it, but if I recall my feminist literary theory from my Oberlin days, naming is a way to possess and dominate something…so you might ask the rock what its name is, rather than naming it.
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May 22, 2019 at 10:52 PM
I like that idea, Tamara, but as you know, my hearing is not the best. I fear I will not be able to hear what the rock says. Perhaps I can rely on the thought that the rock will let me know somehow if it doesn’t like my name for it. Last week—not consciously thinking about this post—I was thinking about how I gave you and your brother the names I did instead of any others. That was a definite exercise of power if not possessiveness and dominance. I assume that if you didn’t like your names you would have changed them by now. Yet you grew up with them. How might your lives have been different given different names?
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May 27, 2019 at 7:45 PM
I think that naming a thing imbues it with life to some degree. To the degree that you have imbued an object with life, there begins a relationship. Someone else may come by and give the rock a different name. That’s their relationship. How many people can a rock own? On a popular trail, Lots!
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May 22, 2019 at 10:54 PM
“How many people can a rock own?” I love that. Thank you, Michael.
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May 27, 2019 at 7:45 PM
There is an infinity of viewpoints available. That’s just one of them. 😉
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May 27, 2019 at 8:03 PM
Ah, the rock with dappled shadows!
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May 23, 2019 at 3:29 AM
Glad you like it, Sue. Thanks.
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May 27, 2019 at 7:46 PM
I have a growing list of LR keywords under “concepts.” Your post reminds me that I should look at the collections under each and see if I spot any patterns. 🙂
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May 23, 2019 at 5:53 PM
I don’t have any keywords under “concepts.” I will have to think about that one now, Mark. Thank you.
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May 27, 2019 at 7:46 PM
Yes, naming brings us closer, even as it can separate us. A paradox. Michael’s’ quip about a rock owning people was funny. But it’s all about intention, right? Even if unconscious, an intent to own or dominate in some way is not the same as what your intent was when you named the rock. I think you were honoring a relationship, or deepening a relationship. These five portraits show the love in that relationship. I hope you keep working with Table Rock…i favor the first two, and I love the little black seam between the rock and the tree – there is some kind of magic there.
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May 25, 2019 at 5:03 PM
Thank you, Lynn, for letting me off the hook with “intention.” There is definitely love in the relationship. I will keep working with Table Rock. The black “seam” is where the tree’s bark is growing over the rock.
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May 27, 2019 at 7:46 PM
I had completely forgotten about my comment, Linda, but judging by this post, I’m glad you didn’t. These pictures make a fine series and are a good example of the old adage, “The whole is greater than the sum of its parts.” In a way, they depict the life of a rock, albeit only an infinitesimal portion of it. It looks and sounds like you and Table Rock are forming an ever-deepening relationship, and I look forward to seeing its visual expression in future postings.
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May 28, 2019 at 11:15 PM