Shaun Brink

artist, author, consultant


            


ABOUT THE PHOTOGRAPHS


The camera, like doing art, was a way back to joy for me.


I had a choice after my house burned down in 2004 and again 9 months later my husband Bruce was diagnosed with a brain tumor. I had a choice when Bruce died in April 2005 and again when my mother died a few years later. I had the same choice to make when my son Robin was killed in 2011.


I could choose to hide IN grief and resist what had happened  or I could live fully WITH grief and find acceptance. The first choice would close me off from life and the beauty that was surrounding me in the present moment. The second choice, though it would take daily work, would allow me to feel and see the world in all its intensity and color.


I chose the second path. Art and the camera were and are my companions on this path of acceptance and joy.


Through the camera lens I am invited to focus fully on what is in front of me. I make a point of exploring new places and re-exploring places I  pass every day. I carry my  camera or cell phone everywhere, stopping to see what might be overlooked in just walking by.   


The photos on this site are just a few of my "present moments."






ABOUT THE POEM​

a note from Shaun Brink


My five year old son Robin took me by the hand the day my dad died. He walked me through the forest surrounding our home and then to the garden where he played most days.


 He showed me one of his toys that he had taken apart and rebuilt into a new shape. He often took toys apart, making then into robots and faster cars and towers.


"Mom, that toy is  just like grandpa. He is still here,  he's just in a different form."


I did not know then, and of that I am glad, but 26 years later my son Robin would die. No  parent wants or expects to outlive a child. The grief is profound.


​One morning, wandering with sorrow, I came upon one of Robin's old reconstructed toys. I picked it out of the blackberry vines that had grown around it.  I could hear his voice . . . I am still here,  just in a different form.


I wrote this poem to honor and remember Robin and  your loved ones who have died. They are here forever more.


Here Forever More

Trauma Transformed

                              Rediscovering life after trauma and loss


  
You can see me in the forest
Or the wanderings of a stream
You can see me in the flowers
And the edges of your dreams



You can see me in the evening
When the stars are shining bright
You can see me in the shadows
And the trails of morning light


I am here



You can see me in the clouds
Drifting streaks of wispy white
You can see me in the eagle
As he soars in freedom's flight



I am here



I am here in every summer
I'm the warmth upon your face
I am here in every winter
In a snowflake's frozen lace



I am here in every autumn
I'm the color in the leaves
I am here in every springtime
I'm the blossoms on the trees



I am here


You can find me in the mountains
You can find me by the shore
You can find me in the wind
I am here forever more.



You are here 

You are here



There are times when I am lonely

There are times when I am sad
As I struggle to remember
All the moments that we had


So I wander in your forest
And sit beside your stream
I bend to smell the flowers
And hold you in my dreams



You are here



I see you in the night sky
As the stars are shining bright
I see you in the sunrise
In the shades of coral light



I see you in the snowflakes
In the drizzle of the fog
I see you in a bird's flight
And the leaping of a frog



You are here.



I see you in the summer
In the fields of sunlit gold
I see you in the winter
In the stillness of the cold



I see you in the autumn
As the maples change their hue
I see you in the springtime
In blossoms dressed with dew



You are here
You are truly here



I see you in the mountains
And I see you by the shore
I see you in the wind
You are here forever more.



©shaun brink 2012