Art and Soul: Petri Mikael Kahra

September 10, 2017  •  Leave a Comment


Petri Mikael Kahra is a brilliantly multitalented Finnish photographer and a musician based in the Western Finland’s coastal town of Vaasa. I was fortunate to meet Petri during my exhibition ‘Pictures from Silence’ that took place in Vaasa on summer 2016.  Petri shared with me his beautiful footage which he had captured on Kvarken archipelago, a coastal area near Vaasa.  This is the very same seaside where I spend much of my time when in Finland. It is a place that resonates deeply in me and in my photography. 


My image taken on a late summer night on Replot, an island of Kvarken.


Kvarken is a narrow marine region between Finland and Sweden with an outstandingly beautiful rocky archipelago. It is also a unique geographical entity. The land was formed by the melting of the glacier some 10 000 - 24 000 years ago. The land in the area continues a steady rise of about 8,5 mm a year and is one of fastest elevating areas in the world. The rising land forms around one square kilometre of new land space every year. As a child I use to be mesmerised by the thought that one day (2500 years from now) people could walk, drive or cycle the 80 km distance to Sweden. Finland’s Kvarken archipelago forms a UNESCO World Heritage Site  together with Sweden’s High Coast (Höga Kusten). 


Whenever I am anxious and overwhelmed about the state of affairs in our world I try to bring at least one moment of beauty and silence to my day. This has become a daily practice and it allows me to go rationally forward with whatever it is that I am facing. Petri’s music video is a deeply honest tribute to this kind of approach. It is also a message to all of us about the importance of the natural environment and the gentle power it holds.  Art that is born from pure awareness and which bears witness to our deep human experience honours the fact that our imagination can never compete with the reality of nature. Petri’s art brings us right to the edge of this knowledge. For me his wordless language speaks volumes.


Please see his video below: 

      'Nature Time - Ajasta Irti'  © Petri Mikael Kahra 2017


Petri published his video ‘Nature Time’ on a day when Finland celebrated her first official Nature Day. As part of the 100 years of Independence celebrations in 2017, Finland is now a first country in the world to officially fly a flag in the honour of the natural environment.


Amongst the overwhelming noise of the world my aim is to listen more carefully to the quieter more delicate voices that are secluded all around us. Most often it is these voices that offer us the kind of insight which no amount of glamour and chatter could ever do. Introducing these creative people will be titled "Art and Soul".


Petri Mikael Kahra website: Sielunmaisemia 

'Nature Time':  in YouTube

Power of Walk

February 28, 2017  •  2 Comments


There are some quieter contemplative activities which I use as a foundation for everything else I do in my life, walking is the most important of them. I cannot talk at great lengths about long walks through deserts, cross Himalayas or pilgrimages of other sorts but I do have quite a solid idea  about the affects of an everyday walk which often takes place in the most ordinary of surrounding, my immediate neighbourhood.


© Päivi Maria Wells, 2017


I currently live in a fractured and restless city where much of the walkways are cut dead by highways and fast pace roads, noise of vehicles and fumes that follow. With will and much compromise I have however managed to carve myself a quieter path amongst my surroundings, even through some woods. This route, and especially the fact that I have an access to it when I need to, is an absolute necessity and a lifeline to me. In a city that was never planned for walking, I would otherwise languish. For me it is important to be able to explore my everyday immediate surroundings by walking. I need to know what is around me and how I might fit into it all. The walks I take are ordinary, solitary, repetitive and if possible, long. The small everyday encounters in my life do inspire me deeply, but that is not the reason I value my path so much. I value it for the simple reason, that on the most days, that is all I have, and I make do with what I have. 


© Päivi Maria Wells, 2017


Walking moves me on in the spiral of life and creativity. It is about evolving. I believe if you don’t keep moving on, exploring further and deeper, you start stagnating, or worse, you begin to slide to a whole different path that is not yours to begin with. You forget what you love and what is it that inspires you in the fist place. I believe walking that is solitary (does not necessary mean alone because solitude can be shared among those who understand one another), regular and repetitive, keeps you connected to your own path. Every time I walk I remember what I have forgotten, I remember the things that really matter.


© Päivi Maria Wells, 2017


My walking tends to follows a certain pattern. Thinking and self talk while walking comes and goes in an uninterrupted waves and finally withdraws all together to the background, leaving the space for simply being. What I find most interesting and relieving is that the small minded self indulged drama of the mind tends to shift into a curiosity and  interest outside oneself, into the world around. I notice how I begin to measure and taste my words more carefully until even they fade away. The language looses its importance. I believe intelligence runs through our bodies in many ways. The rhythmic motion of walking allows me to by-pass my busy mind and I begin to listen from my heart. I find it quite remarkable that just by putting one foot after another our perception of everything can change so dramatically. That walking transforms into wakefulness and stillness.


It is as if by walking I can move from the world of thoughts and words into the world of ideas and inspiration. Intuition and insight, and with that, a realisation arises so clear and obvious that I know it had had to be there all along, only I was not listening. There seem to be something non-dualistic and truthful in this kind of awareness that sets in. It is here where I go through a beautiful stream of consciousness as I unravel and stitch together, I touch, hold and release. I look for the rhythm in irregularities and patterns within them. There is thread that flows through what is around me and what is inside of me and makes connections where there use to be none. While I walk I listen, I listen a lot. I listen to the nature and I listen to the answers. And from all this, a whole new deeper, more interesting questions arise.


© Päivi Maria Wells, 2017


Like walking, photography is a meeting ground between the person’s inner world and the outer physical world. It is an act of intuition, focus and of being present. After a good amount of walking I enter a neutral state of being, avoid of unnecessary emotion and chatter. Observation without judgement sets in and I think this is the best place for photography to take place too. It is as if I can start to see beyond the usual and to see the usual in a new light. I think it is only at this point camera can be of any good use and the photographer to be able to say something. It is in this state of mind that I am able to photograph not what I see but what I experience. 


© Päivi Maria Wells, 2017


My walking life reaches way longer back than my photography life and after starting photography I use to keep these two acts as separate. I refused to carry a camera on my walks and saw it as a distraction. I wanted to keep the two worlds separate for the simple reason that I wanted to fully focus on either one while I was on it. I have since become more flexible and now, as I walk, I carry a tiny pocket camera with me (thus much of the images exist for this post). Walking has a tremendous affect on my photography, yet in order to photograph well, I need to forget about it. This is why the camera still most often stays in the bag while I walk. 


© Päivi Maria Wells, 2017


Walking takes me through my good days and it takes me through all those other ones too. It gives me emotional resilience, clarity and a quiet certainty.  The beauty of walking is that it never makes me overly anything but takes me right back to the balance of things. It pulls me out from my own shadows and it draws me back when I start to drift off. Without exception I am always somehow transformed when I return home. Fulfilment that follows after a walk is not happiness, it certainly is not optimism, but a more solid, longer lasting state of mind that resembles perhaps gratefulness.


© Päivi Maria Wells, 2017


Like many walkers, I too sometimes  dream about setting my feet on to an all together different path. On this journey, a quest of some sort,  I would walk long, far and uninterrupted, far from cities, noise and distraction into the new and excitingly unknown territory. And maybe one day my dream will come true. Or maybe not. Either way I keep on walking wherever I am, because I know that if only I can create a quieter path of some sort around me, walking will always take me to the place where I want to be.


© Päivi Maria Wells, 2017


I like walking because it is slow, 

and suspect that the mind, like the feet, 

works at about three miles an hour.


Rebecca Solnit


s i l e n c e

September 05, 2016  •  2 Comments



After summer of immersing in the quiet of nature, in the space that I occupy most naturally, it feels as if I am now breaking a fast. By writing about it, I have broken the silence. But I try to approach my title gently and rather than bend it's meaning, I hope to embrace it. 


I see silence as the right topic to start this autumn. My mental calendar follows my children's school year, so for me, this time is always a start of something new. A beginning. There is a new energy after a summer of withdrawal.  The calendar of my emotions and my soul however follows the four seasons. Though here in Malaysia it is beautiful evergreen tropics, inside me it is time for crispier evenings, leaves to turn vivid colours, shorter days and as the birds prepare to leave, I prepare to look inwards, to check in; what has left? what new has come in?




© Päivi Maria Wells, 2016



For me silence is a place to gather my energies, to find the perimeters of my being. I am lucky I regularly get to do this in Finland, in the clean, pristine forests and on it’s breathtaking seaside. As I walk in the nature alone, in silence, I walk into myself. Silence in Finland is our native language. It comes to us naturally. The silence in Finland is so clear that you can hear it, as my Finnish friend says. And you can. We like to beat ourselves about it, not been able to talk when needed to.. what does the world think about us… such quiet mob.. But I think there is a real spiritual aspect to this ability to be quiet. We don’t need Asian philosophies or yoga to teach us that. We don't need words to describe it. We already know.


I see silence as a withdrawal and refraining. Not to act on the urges and impulses, not to go with the noise of the world. To give space and to take space. Silence is a beautiful state of stillness, a state of being where these two; the mind and the soul, connects. Neither demanding anything from the other but staying truly present. Like friends.


In silence I can find inner spaciousness. And yet, it is this inner space that is a prerequisite for truly quieten the mind. I have been a keen novice in yoga some years and I have come to learn that even in its physical form; the practise of postures and breathing, it has all along been about creating this space inside me, in order to reach the silence within.


I strongly believe that it is only through the silence that I can really see and sense the world around me. And it is only through silence that I can then begin to express how the world looks to me. To become creative about it. It is only through silence that I can then come out to the world and be ok about it. Be me. It is like a wave, to withdraw and to come out. Both equally needed, both equally valuable and if timed right, both equally joyful experiences. 




© Päivi Maria Wells, 2016



I have tried to understand much of the advice I read and receive about blogging and photography. “Say something daily, share your pictures daily or if you must, weekly. Be seen! Talk in every direction, all the time”. I know many who do this and many who are very good at it. They are flying on endless social online and offline platforms. And I understand, its the name of the game. Its the business.




But still I can’t. 




Because for years I use to do it in life. Run in all directions. I embraced the noise and the distraction. I thought thats the answer. But I wasn’t good at it. I couldn’t keep up. I felt lousy and rotten inside. Numb. I didn’t know myself and I doubt that I was the best I can be. 


I made a deliberate choice to approach life the other way round. Through slow, intentional steps and pauses. In yoga, there is a gap that one learns to embrace between every breath, a tiny moment when nothing happens. The writer Pico Iyer talks of the importance of comma as a pause and a gap in writing. There is the all important silence in music and there is a silence even in between the endless stream of thoughts we produce. The examples are plenty. These gaps, long and short, are everywhere. By slowing down I have started to recognise these pauses and that they are a gateway for a deeper inner silence and peace.



© Päivi Maria Wells, 2016




By allowing silence into my life I have learned to realign my life with what really matters to me. I no longer have an urge to run in all direction, but to focus on the path beneath my feet. To engage in fewer but possibly richer and more meaningful encounters. Maybe some of us are made to go a little slower and perhaps to delve a little deeper. I walk this life on my own pace now, in order to become as me as I can be, in order to have a self to express, in order to have something to say.




A great silence comes over me and I wonder why I ever thought to use language.  




Self Portrait 

© Päivi Maria Wells, 2016