We rented a house on the North Shore of Maui near Paia. When I travel I don’t really like staying in hotels. It makes me so aware of being a guest – an outsider. In a house you have the illusion of being local: cooking with local ingredients, saying good morning to the neighbors, using the swing set in the backyard, recycling meticulously. All of these images were taken right around our house. The shark swam languidly across the outer wall of the Luau Mart where I picked up milk in the morning. The He-Man signified our lava-rock beach entrance where I watched a local man stand in the waves, hug his teeny tiny baby to his chest and go under the water for what seemed like minutes. In the evening we’d come home and dip our hot feet in the little tub filled with ice cold water. We didn’t want to carry all that sand into our home away from home.

©Sarah Girner

The reason I got on a plane and flew almost 5000 miles to Hawaii is unoriginal – my husband’s best friend was getting married. At the wedding the groom’s father had prepared a speech in which he stated something along the lines of “may the whale song stay with you”. I smiled and secretly rolled my eyes a little… the whale song… you mean, like on the cds that you can buy and meditate to? Come on…

A day later Stephan and Kazuko took us to Secret Beach. As we sat on the shore and looked out at the glistening sea the groom Stephan pointed to white spray rising out of the ocean. Astonishingly, the gusts of spray were coming closer. When I saw the first graceful curve of a whale’s back glide smoothly over the surface of the water and then disappear my jaw dropped. Stephan told me and my sister that if we wanted to hear the whale song, all we needed to do was jump in the water. Unsure, of whether he was making a fool of the city slickers, we dove in.

And there was music… it was so beautiful, unlike anything I had ever heard, and I stayed under as long as I could – until my lungs ached.

Now I know that the groom’s father’s wishes were not just some corny verbiage. They were a heartfelt wish. A wish I share for Stephan and Kazuko.

©Sarah Girner

There’s a German saying which translates as “hope is the last thing to die”. When I look at this picture I think of that saying. My friends and I were driving through Polipoli State Park on Maui, where there are amazing views on clear days. That day, unfortunately, was not clear. Apparently there is something here called “the fog belt” but at the time (and at 6000 foot elevation) I firmly believed we were driving around in the clouds. It felt that way when we got out of the car (usually to inspect a ginormous pothole and deliberate whether we could drive around it or through it) – cool and wet against the skin, like ocean spray.

We were in search of a camp site from which an extensive hiking trail system extends. I was tired of sitting in the car and at every bend that snaked off into the fog that feeling of hope filled my chest. We’re almost there. Just around the next bend…

We never did get there. The unpaved access road finally got the best of our sad little rental car and we were forced to turn around.

©Sarah Girner

On occasion I can be quite oppositional when it comes to unnecessary change.

The fountain at Lincoln Center has been a part of my life ever since I was little, owing to the fact that it was located somewhere between the Metropolitan Opera (where my parents took my ballerina sister and me to see Romeo and Juliet and Swan Lake) and The Big Apple Circus (where I secretly daydreamed of one day tending to the elephants). Before and after the performances we played around the fountain. When the Lincoln Center launched a redevelopment project a little over three years ago I was appalled. “What’s wrong with the old fountain?” I kept asking anyone that was in earshot.

Well, as I learned a week ago, the old fountain never did manage to make people gasp out loud or press their hands to their chests or crane their necks towards the heavens.

Go see for yourself! Sometimes, change is good.

©Sarah Girner

I have lived in the United States for a total of 13 years now. However, I have only been to the West Coast on two occasions: Last October I explored Los Angeles and two weeks ago I biked across the Golden Gate Bridge. I can’t explain how exhilarating this was for me. I must have seen hundreds of thousands of images of this particular bridge. It’s just so photogenic! I rented a bike near Fisherman’s Wharf and set out. It took a long time and as I was closing in on the bridge, I kept cracking myself up, because I was snapping away like a tourist. I just couldn’t help myself!

In the end the two images I like are the ones that I took from furthest away (where the bridge is hardly visible in the distance) and absolute closest. That must be indicative of something…

©Sarah Girner

I love to dress up for Max Raabe. I’ve seen him perform at Carnegie Hall twice with his Palast Orchester, the first time – a year ago – during the Berlin In Lights Festival and again this year on March 4th. There is just no performer quite like him. He is a small man – tiny from where I was sitting – but his voice is larger than life. Not only does it fill Carnegie Hall but it sweeps  each audience member up in pure music. His melodies, that is, the melodies of Germany’s 1920’s and 30’s, and every note that he hits with such nonchalance and elegance, seem to sweep you up and pierce your soul. And yes, I do include my favorite song “Mein Gorilla hat ‘ne Villa im Zoo” (translation: My Gorilla Has A Villa in the Zoo) in this analogy.

©Sarah Girner

There are certain words that do not translate from German to English. The well known ones like Schadenfreude and Fahrvergnügen need no translation at all. Others like “Einkehr” are more complicated. Most dictionaries define Einkehr as a rest stop, stopping in at an establishment to grab a bite to eat or refuel. However, Einkehr can also mean self-reflection. Currently, it is one of my favorite words. It reminds me of skiing or other winter activities and coming in from the cold, of fogged glasses and burning cheeks, of delicious foods (in this particular case home-made donuts and freshly brewed coffee), and sitting cozily by a window looking out at the frozen landscape listening to one’s heart.

©Sarah Girner

When we were kids my friends and I used to play this game a lot:

Do you remember it? We would fold a piece of paper into however many segments, each person would be assigned a part of the body and the first person started to draw. She would finish and fold the paper so that the next person could only see a small part of the image and would continue to draw. The result of this game was more often than not a beautiful and obscure accident. The above image was created by Y. Tanguy, Joan Miro, Max Morise and Man Ray in 1927. I love the lowest segment with the racquets and balls.

The Exposure Project has taken this game to a whole new level with  Graphic Intersections:

Graphic Intersections is a collaborative project loosely based on the old Surrealist and Dadaist game The Exquisite Corpse. Designed to unite disparate artists in an interconnected photographic relay of images inspired by one another, this project strives to emphasize a system of response entirely rooted in unmediated visual reaction.

The first photographer made a photograph, which was subsequently forwarded to the second in line. The 2nd then, based solely on their own visual, emotional, intellectual or philosophical response, in turn made photographs in artistic reaction to the one they were given. The artists involved were not given any written material to accompany the photograph, nor did they know whose image they were responding to. This was designed to propagate chance, or as the Surrealist’s put it, exploit “the mystique of accident.”

Ultimately, Graphic Intersections to challenge the bounds of sequential, narrative imagery, while simultaneously fostering stronger lines of artistic affiliation.

I am very excited I was selected to be part of Graphic Intersections v 02 and look forward to collaborating with this amazing list of talented photographers: Lucas Blalock, Leah Tepper Byrne, Peter Happel Christian, Christopher Colville, Maureen Drennan, Lauren Edwards, Amy Elkins, Mike Fleming, Maury Gortemiller, Patrick Hogan, John Houck, Ina Jang, Phil Jung, Yijun Liao, Johan Rosenmunthe, Tina Schula, Kate Steciw, Tribble & Mancenido and Nathaniel Ward

If you haven’t yet checked out Graphic Intersections v 01 then please do so here.

My family and I decided to leave a Manhattan that had turned a tacky shade of pink for Valentine’s day and took the train out to Sagaponack. I’ve written about Sagaponack before, about the stillness that emanates from the house and property which belongs to my sister’s in-laws. When we arrived, the snow underfoot was crunchy, the air crystal clear. Pictures were all around.

©Sarah Girner