The Positive Gift of the Negative

"I Have Loved Hours at Sea"

I have loved hours at sea, gray cities,
The fragile secret of a flower,
Music, the making of a poem
That gave me heaven for an hour;

First stars above a snowy hill,
Voices of people kindly and wise,
And the great look of love, long hidden,
Found at last in meeting eyes.

I have loved much and been loved deeply --
Oh when my spirit's fire burns low,
Leave me the darkness and the stillness,
I shall be tired and glad to go.

 

by:  Sarah Teasdale

 

Southport Island, Maine

The Creative Gift of Negative Space

This picture captured me before I snapped it.  I stepped out into the evening and felt the tranquility settle on the coast.  Through the camera lens, we catch the special gift which gave me that feeling before I took the picture--negative space.  It's the darkness of the shoreline and of the outer islands that sets off the deep, soft blue and holds it as a pool. The white sailboat directs the eye to the center of the pool--and for some, grasps you at that point.  That's the use of negative space for setting off and holding up the tranquility and peace of the night.  

Now look at the picture again.  What would the effect be if I had focused solely on the blue ocean and left out the dark shoreline and islands?  Then what?  Surely, the blue ocean with the white sailboat is striking--but look how much effect is lost without the negative space.

 

Or, should I ask:  how much of our experience in living would be lost without that negative space?   I am not talking about taking pictures, but about the day by day negative experiences which hold up in relief what really matters to us.  Examples--all those times when we hear ourselves say the following: "I would never, ever want to go through that again," BUT! having coming through it, and what I found, well--that is another story completely."    We get drenched in a storm and the rainbow finds us. 

Go back to the poem.  How does the poet know the gift of the flower's scent, the stars that fill the sky, and the joy of meeting by the eye--sometimes the absence of these thinks indeed makes the heart grow fonder and thankful.  I can tell you first hand of the gift of grief, the loss that frames our lives and hold it holds up in relief the priceless gifts which we never knew were even there.