Hands: A Moment Still

It’s not often that I post multiple times in one week, let alone two days in a row, but the sun finally emerged behind layers of gray clouds and I had an opportunity to tackle one of my lighting projects.  I needed to use 90 degree side lighting to bring out texture in a subject and I had it in my head to photograph my mom’s hands, which are beautifully lined and have so much character. I also wanted to challenge myself in using the 18-55 mm zoom instead of my telephoto for this.  I have a tendency to favor the other lens and feel I too readily jump to it when taking creative shots. 

The sun was setting, and our neighborhood was already covered in evening shade, as we’re tucked down in a small cavern surrounded by towering evergreens.  We headed down the road to the Black Diamond Cemetery, mainly because it was on a high, flat hill. The lighting was perfect, we arrived about 30 minutes before sunset.  My mom had never been there and we joked about “killing two birds with one stone”.  Now you know where I get my slightly morbid sense of humor. 

Anyway, I feel great satisfaction in how they turned out, it’s how I envisioned them when I first thought of the project. I hope you enjoy them.

January 22, 2011. Nikon D40. 45 mm f/5.6 1/200 ISO 400

 January 22, 2011. Nikon D40. 42 mm f/5.6 1/200 ISO 400

 January 22, 2011. Nikon D40. 55 mm f/5.6 1/200 ISO 400

 January 22, 2011. Nikon D40. 55 mm f/5.6 /200 ISO 400

Technorati Tags: Nikon D40,Side Lighting,Hands,Prayer,Bible,Mother

Score 1 for Patience

“So here’s another photographic technique they never talk about and that you can’t buy at your local camera store: patience.” David duChemin, Within the Frame

I’ve been thinking about patience lately, and when I read this the other day, I said out loud, “That is my problem”. I’ve never been a patient person, and that’s especially true for being patient with myself. Lately I’ve found myself impatient with my photography plans and goals.  Most of this impatience stems from elements that are out of my control: weather, work schedules, logistics, etc. This impatience ultimately leads to frustration, and I’ve found frustration leads to uninspiring photographs.

I have two units of shots I need to get, and they are all people shots.  Many of them require outside lighting conditions.  Lately, if the sun comes out, it comes out when I’m at work, stuck behind a counter until 9 PM.  My subjects are all busy people with obligations and families, so coordinating our free time is challenging. Finally, I’m trying to put a business plan together and a very unfortunate and not-at-all-controllable set of circumstances has kept my partner on the other side of the country for several months.

Yesterday I decided that without fail, I was going to jump in between rain showers prior to sunset and get some pictures of the cresting Green River. This desire had nothing to do with any of the things frustrating me (okay, a little about the weather). I just needed to take pictures, to remind myself why I love this, and that I can do this.

I drove down to the nearby state park, and was determined to give my mind and my frustrations a rest: to let the park guide me in what to photograph.  I can’t say I was as open to the place as I’d like to be, I never reached that Zen connection, so-to-speak.  I had to talk to myself, take a deep breath, “be patient, did you get what you need?” I started snapping away and felt that old impatience within myself resurface as quick as a shutter release.  I took a step back and told myself to find my subject. As I kept that in mind, the pictures began to take shape. 

Not all the shots turned out, I want to go back and have another go at the big entry bridge, the sky wasn’t as moody as I hoped, and the actual pictures of the river didn’t call to me the way I’d envisioned.  However, I did find this marshy area where the reeds were flooded and created a reflecting surface. There was this small waterfall framed by some downed trees.  It arrested my attention on my initial drive through, and it’s not likely to be there again once the flood waters abate.

I’m calling the day successful.  The main thing, that which was truly important, was after a long creative dry spell, I was outside shooting again.

Taken at Flaming Geyser State Park, Auburn, WA. January 21, 2011. Nikon D40 19 mm f/14 1/2.5 ISO 400

Technorati Tags: Nikon D40,Flood,Nature,Waterfall

Lesson One: Don’t Wear Your Favorite Shoes

Last spring my mom asked me to take some pictures of these uprooted trees she spotted in Enumclaw.  I dutifully drove up there only to discover they were covered in vegetation, and there was no where to safely park.  So, when we had a bright sunny day a couple weeks ago, I decided to head out there again.

The roots are probably a 12’ diameter, and they stood like small mountains in amongst the underbrush.  I had a project to complete that used 90 degree side-lighting to bring out an objects detail, and we were about an hour from sunset.  Since the roots were facing a southwest direction, the sun worked great, and the frost tangled in the roots sparkled like diamonds.  I pulled over at a large shoulder and walked the 100 or so yards to get to my subject.  The embankment was about two feet down, and there was a crust of half melted snow pressing down the reeds that grew in the ditch.  Cautiously I worked my way down, worried about slipping on some hidden ice.  I finally got to ground level, took a step forward, and crashed through the ice covered reeds into the foot and a half of ice cold water below.

Only wearing jeans, bootie socks, and a pair of suede Adidas, the water instantly soaked through my meager layers, and ruined my favorite shoes.  It would have been worth it though, if I really got the shot I wanted, but because of the water, I couldn’t get the angle I needed to create a photo I would be proud of.  So, I hauled myself out of the icy ditch and drove to my brother’s house, where my sister-in-law loaned me some flip-flops. Thank goodness for a warm car with foot-level heating

So lesson learned:

• Wear shoes you don’t mind destroying
• Wear good socks
• Bring extra clothes
• Don’t trust snow covered reeds!

Morning at the Lake

The small splash is what first caught my attention. A duckling had landed in the water, so small it appeared as nothing more than a ripple in the lake.  She dipped her head up and down, as though nodding to me.  The world had gone quiet at sunrise, no human sounds to distract from nature’s sounds, no cars on the road, just me and the duckling, and the gentle lap of the serene water.  I watched the duck paddle around, enjoying the morning.  I should have rushed to gather my telephoto lens to take a picture, but the sweetness held me spellbound. I woke up this morning to capture a lake I’ve been eyeing for several months, my methodology technical, my purpose clear (get in while the light is good, grab that reflection). I hadn’t planned on a moment of peace.  I didn’t expect to find God in a duckling.

Finding Vision…

…David duChemin is a humanitarian photographer out of Vancouver, BC, and has done a lot of work for World Vision. His photography is, from my perspective, poetry. David spends a lot of time talking about vision, and it’s precisely that point of view that encouraged me to pick up one of his books Within the Frame: The Journey of Photographic Vision. Most photography books are highly technical, and there’s nothing wrong with that, but I’m enrolled in a technical program, and I have at least two other books on the technical aspects of photography.  However, to be a photographer, there is something just a step beyond the technical that makes a picture magical.  For David, that epiphanal aspect is vision.

So why did I subtitle my blog “Finding vision through the craft of photography”? This is the question I was asking myself this morning.  I know that’s silly, shouldn’t I have thought that out before putting pen to paper (so to speak)?  Well, yes and no…I believe we’re motivated by the subconscious, so even when we don’t fully understand our actions, it doesn’t necessarily mean they’re thoughtless. So, as I set up the blog, I kept looking at that sentence and tried to find another way to say it, but couldn’t find anything that held on to the emotion I needed to convey, so I went with it. This morning my inner voice was nagging me again, “Shouldn’t a photographer communicate vision with photography? And by doing so doesn’t that imply that they already have the vision? And if they already have the vision, why would they find it while communicating it?”. Well, today, I told my inner voice to stop being so damn literal! 

It’s true that vision is essential to photographs. After all what I need to show you should have some meaning behind it, otherwise why waste your time on it? Perhaps a photographer should have vision all sown up prior to shooting, but as I look at a collection of pictures I took while at the 2009 Lavender Festival in Sequim (pronounced Sqwim) Washington, I remember “finding” my vision that day. I remember going from farm to farm, and discovering the joy I had in selective focus pictures, and how to this day, those are still my favorite shots.  Perhaps one day, when I’m an all-grown-up-photographer, I will have vision in the bag, but for now, I’m a student.  And, truthfully, I hope I never stop learning from shot to shot, because for each picture I take, I’m not just revealing to you something of the world around me, I’m revealing a little bit of myself, as well.

Taken at the Lavender Festival in Sequim, Washington July 2009

As We Begin…

As I contemplate how to begin this blog, I’m beginning my third unit of lessons at NYIP, which is all about light.  Light, and it’s manipulation thereof is what has always intimidated me most about photography.  This is perhaps the primary reason why I decided to enroll in an accredited program, because I know that light makes all the difference in the world when it comes to the success of a photo. 

As the lesson opens the Dean, Chuck Delaney, talks about the origins and literal meaning of the word: photography.  It comes from the Greek as coined by John Herschel: photo meaning light, and graphos meaning to write. Thus, photography means: writing with light. I can’t quite think of a more beautiful way of describing this artistic craft I’m undertaking.

I’m committed to making a regular journal of my trials and tribulations as I learn to “write with light”, for those of you who come along with me on my journey, I’m blessed to have you.  I hope in turn I can bless you with some of my attempts. 

And, as we begin this journey together, I thought it appropriate to share with you my attempt to capture the last light of the day:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Taken at Snoqualmie Falls in Washington State. July 17th 2010. Nikon D40 18mm f/20 1/50

Technorati Tags: Nikon,Nikon D40,Sunsets,Photography