Open Letter to My Camera

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Dear Camera,
I am sorry to inform you that the art that I create with you appears to be subpar. These images are ignored, or if they are appreciated, individuals expect to receive them for free. Knowing that I put my heart, experience, and education and significant financial investments into the photo-taking process, my only conclusion can be that you are holding me back.
Now, don’t get me wrong. You are a perfectly good camera. I love you with my whole heart, but there is something about the union of you and me, that fails to create beautiful respectable art. I know I push your buttons, but that’s how our relationship works, and the only way we can create art. I’ve tried my hardest, creating blogs and Facebook pages to display our creations, but they fall upon an unappreciative audience.
For these reasons, I’m giving you an ultimatum. Either we figure this out together and create beautiful art that has impact, or I’m going to have to let you go. I am considering my prospects with Pen, as perhaps writing is the path I should take to creating art. This is your chance to prove me wrong. So, please….prove me wrong.
You have my word that I will be trying to make this work, the ball in in your court now. Remember, it might be good to give me a gift when you try to woo me back. I have given you at least 6 lenses over the years, and from you I’ve received no more than $100 total from various small gifts of print sales. I do not mean to sound rude, but I need to know that I am loved too. 

Rebecca Turk
(the one who holds your hand and pushes your buttons)

Ps. I will be eagerly awaiting your response, and hopefully anticipating our next long walk on the beach at sunset. I do love you, dear Camera. I have included some our our images here to remind you of where we’ve been and what we’ve created together in the past.

Property of Rebecca Turk
Property of Rebecca Turk
Open Letter to My Camera

Textured Layers of Beauty

Life is full of textured layers of beauty, insight, inspiration, & demonstrations of love. Pretend it is “I spy” and see what you find. It may surprise you.

© Rebecca Turk
Prints Available;

Property of Rebecca Turk
Property of Rebecca Turk
Textured Layers of Beauty

Reflective Waters


Beneath the still, reflective waters,
exists a world, most know nothing of.
The secrets, of both pain and joy,
are entrusted to but a few.
So, to learn of these hidden truths,
I will watch with indefinite pause.
You, oh silent waters, of quiet reserve,
are worth being heard.
You, oh still waters, so pristine,
deserve to be seen.

© Rebecca Turk


Reflective Waters

The Dance We Dance

The Dance We Dance

It’s an elaborate dance we dance,

with our feet tied behind our back,
And our eyes made blind.
We laugh to fill the silence,
while the tears fall behind our eyes.
It’s a competition we’ll never win.
All our hard work–
All the planning of our lives,
And then we find ourselves falling,
with no one there to heal our pains.
For no one really knows the wounds we’ve suffered,
They too have been covered by laughter.
Lips curled up in a smile of joy,
while silently we realize we’ll never be who we were before,
Choking on the tears we’ve never cried,
Feeling guilty for all we were to be, but never became,
For the promises made, and unspoken lies.
We dance a dance that cannot be danced alone,
and laugh a laugh that doesn’t exist.
For truly all is still, dark, and silent
behind this heavy mask.
Being human is no easy task.
For it is an elaborate dance we dance,
with our feet tied behind our back,
and our eyes made blind.
I reach out my hand to you, my fellow dancer,
for I too know, the steps that cannot be danced alone,
The dreams we dream to fill the emptiness but cannot be embraced.
We run to nowhere, never winning a race. Why we compete, I’ll never know.

For here we are dancing a dance that can never be danced alone…

© Rebecca Turk

The Dance We Dance

Like a Leaf

A cascade of hope and fear, pouring out,
undivided. falling over the rocky way
both graceful, delicate, and powerful the same
Inspiration in one hand, doubts in the other,
She, the stream, presses forward
to a distant shore. From the point of
fall, what came next a mystery
the edge could not be seen at all.
And like a leaf carried on this same current
that thrust the water into motion,
I travel life’s river,
forward, over, tumbling, into the unknown
to a lake or pond or distant ocean.
What will come my way, still not found,
While the current has its force,
I can always bring my paddle along.
I am not a mere victim of its course.
And should it be, that I must abandon ship,
I have two legs that will carry me.

© Rebecca Turk

Property of Rebecca Turk
© Rebecca Turk 
If interested in photo prints, please contact me at
Like a Leaf

How do Words Work?

I sat here wondering, maybe a moment too long to catch the poem that was dancing on the forefront of my mind, begging permission to dance in the light. But it left me with this feeling, that I’ll do my best to share.

I wondered how words worked, and if I was using them right. I had just scribbled down a poem, and returned to reading, when another said, “where do you think you’re going, you haven’t told me yet!”

So I wrote down the words, but wondered where they belonged.
If I share them here with you, will I have more to write?
When I come before the project of a book, will I produce more than a single line?

If I show you the beauties that captivate me line by line, will you see them as beauty, or pay me no mind?

So, dear reader, can you tell me this? Are words like love? That once flowing, they are never done? Or shall I write, and find I have none left to share?

Should I write them here?
Do I dare?

They speak of a vulnerability, not always easy to share…but here…..I’ll lay them before you.

Where I’m going

I’ve said it before
three times at least
I said it clearly, once
without glitz galore.
I said it in rhyme,
And then to be safe,
I said it once more.
I told my heart to be brave,
and gave permission to my mind.
The words I spoke,
The poem I rhymed
Fell on ears made deaf
And eyes gone blind.
So words in my pocket,
Hope in my heart,
From here I bid you g’day,
As I depart.
You see,
As I study, as I write,
As I hunt for hidden insights,
I will move forward to
ever greater heights.

My Words

I feel my words,
even while fresh and new
come out like a
a sheet of paper crumpled
dropped, and dampened
by the morning dew.

They could be more beautiful.
I know, it’s true.

So I’ve spoke them now, and now we will wait and see. Will the void they created, create a whirlpool of new? Stay tune, it will be a mystery unfolding, word by word. Each post I write, each poem I rhyme. The result will only be known only after the passing of time.

© Rebecca Turk

How do Words Work?