Roots of my vision…

As a photographer, it’s vital to have a vision, and to always keep your mind and heart tuned in and focused on that vision. There’s so much noise in the world, so many things that distract us, stress us, and compete for space in our consciousness. For me, a photographer’s vision is like a true arrow, pointing toward what is meaningful and honest about what I do. Earlier this week, while I was in the midst of the buzz of activities that consumes my life, I was struck by the stark, drama of the landscape outside my window. I stopped what I was doing, collected my gear, and stepped outside. It brought me back to what I love, what moves me. I never want to lose those roots, because they keep me centered, grounded and give meaning to what I do. Hope you enjoy…

Star light, star bright…

  Tonight my daughter and I looked up and saw the brightest, most dazzling star in the sky. I stared at it for a few moments before I was galvanized into action. Coat, shoes, tripod: Check. Camera, card, settings: Check.  Test shot one, two, three…. and action. Every day offers a new photographic opportunity if you are ready and willing and able. I love discovering something new, or visualizing something ordinary in a new way. It’s like breathing, and I can’t imagine a day without that creative motivation. Tonight, just after twilight, that motivation was the star, Sirius–a truly magnificent beacon a mere 8.6 light years away… For all my readers and followers, may you find your creative light, as well. Hope you enjoy…

Now you see it…

 

This image represents one aspect of what keeps me challenged, and forever thirsty, in my passion for the photographic arts: capturing that “moment” as you are seeing it in real time, and forever encasing it in pixels and perhaps dots on paper in the same  way you originally experienced it. How many  photographs actually do this?  This beautiful morning scene drew me in a week or so ago, on one of the first full days of autumn. It was about 7:00 a.m., and the dew was so moist it was literally dripping off the leaves; the shafts of sunlight were radiating through the branches and the fog, creating an otherworldly effect in what is normally an unremarkable rural setting near our neighborhood. But the moment… the moment was pristine. I framed, clicked, reframed… but  even as I shot, I could tell, somehow, the beauty of the fog-laden air, the clean, refreshing aromas, might never be truly represented by my efforts. Even so, I continued shooting until the sun rose so high that the shafts disappeared and the morning’s magical essence faded away. I hope a bit of it remains in my photograph, and I hope you enjoy…

Sky on fire…

 

Sometimes color just rules the day. This evening sky, taken from my Phoenix hotel room window overlooking some of the local flora and fauna at the base of Camelback Mountain, was just too compelling not to shoot. These colors became more muted, then unexpectedly reburst in one final blaze of glory before fading into final twilight.

 

Days end…

Finding your image…

 

I generally am not a huge fan of heavy post processing, but I am definitely a believer in doing whatever it takes to reveal the artistic vision within an image. That is not to say lemonade can be made out of any lemon, and I ruthlessly delete any photograph that exhibits obvious flaws from the get-go. However, I rarely ever delete in camera (memory space notwithstanding) and I at least give every image one go viewing on my computer before I toss it in the trash bin. The above shot is a perfect example of why I like to give every photograph a fighting chance before I give up on it.

This scenic view appeared to me recently as our cruise ship entered the coastal waters of Honduras, early one morning, as the fog was heavy and the mist obscured most of the coastal detail from view. However, my naked eye could discern a shadowy lighthouse and the architecture of the Spanish style structure within the mist. I took several shots as we cruised by, though I was not entirely hopeful they’d turn out clearly enough to publish. Once I began to post-process, I began to feel there was hope, as I gently tweaked my contrast, urged some level of detail and clarity, and finally added a slight warming tone to the final product. The result is an impressionistic scene, which is exactly what I felt as we traveled past peering into the dusky morning light–the small boat adding a human touch to the otherwise lonely waters. I am glad I gave it life, as it’s a special moment and memory to me. Hope you enjoy as well…

Be prepared…

 

The image above is a happy accident. It was not the image I went out to photography last evening, but it’s the one I came home with. And while I am fairly pleased with the result, it falls in the category that we as photographers cannot seem to drill into our own heads: Be prepared.

Here is what happened. Driving home from running errands yesterday evening, I saw the cloud formations to the east looking particularly dramatic. The sun was setting, its rays slowly melting from golden to fuchsia, the clouds were gaining structure and contrast in a way that simply guaranteed I’d have an award-winning shot without breaking a sweat. That attitude should have been my first clue. Ahem. So confident was I about my intention and subject, I quickly stopped by my house and in the blink of an eye, grabbed my tripod and camera–already armed with the perfect wide-angle zoom for my landscape, and within 5 minutes was in position and on location. Didn’t

Only… wait. One problem. The sun died… right in front of my eyes. The cloud formation, which should by all rights should have exploded with color, simply…. fizzled.  The cloud went dark. And there I sat looking at a dark blue cloud on a quickly darkening sky. Hmm…. Any light, anywhere??? Oh, yes… of course… the light BEHIND me was spectacular and the local radio tower was perfectly framed in color. Except, I was standing there with a wide-angle lens and the beautiful tower was far, far away. I tried framing, reframing and finally had to settle for an image I knew I would have to severely crop later. The result is what you see above. OK, so maybe somehow, someway, I made lemons out of lemonade (you all can be the judge) but once again, I had to humbly admit that I let my excitement over getting “the shot” get in the way of my clear thinking about what I should have come prepared for. Yes, a longer telephoto should have been in my bag (I didn’t even grab a bag!) so that if the shot I thought I was going to get didn’t pan out, I might have had some  options.

I tell this story because 1) I think it’s important to constantly remind oneself that the road to becoming a great photographer is fraught with humbling lessons and 2) the joy of the chase is actually the true joy of photography. If you end up with an award-winning image, it’s icing on the cake. Just keep enjoying the journey. Til next time…

Come sail away…

 

The light was fading… I was intent on watching this beautiful Caribbean sunset loftily sink beneath the horizon when this perfect little vessel sailed into view, its white sails reflecting the last vestiges of light that bounced off the darkening seas. I love the play of light and dark in this image–the dusky clouds and brilliant sun, and the way the sails almost glow with a life of their own in a comparatively vast landscape. Hope you enjoy…

Good morning Phoenix…

 

In my day to day life at home, things are usually pretty busy in the morning. I have teens to wake, lunches to prepare, emails to catch up on… the normal flurry of activity in a family household–all usually before 7 a.m. So the opportunity to step away, pack my gear, and photograph a picturesque scene like the one above is usually a nonstarter. But last week I traveled on business to Phoenix and had the pleasure of finding myself at the base of Camelback Mountain just before dawn. I am sure this photograph has been taken before; it’s not unique or ground breaking, but all that mattered to me was being able to witness those rich pink rays as they struck gold on Camelback’s eastern side. It was a pristine, silent moment. The kind you live for as a photographer of nature’s wonders. Hope you enjoy…

Big sky country…

 

There is nothing more dramatic, more magical, than a winter sky. It’s truly the season of the “big sky” and if you are photographer and you don’t get out and shoot from December to February, you are truly missing one of nature’s most wondrous achievements. The problem for me in the winter is that am generally working til dark, and I usually glance up and out my window right about the time the “big show” begins… only to realize that by the time I grab a camera, fit a lens, jump in the car, and stash my tripod, the magic will have passed. There is more leeway to make this all come together after work in the summer, but unfortunately, the skies just don’t seem to have the same magnificence in July. This image was taken a couple of evenings ago at a park just across the street from where I live. I was prepared to come away with nothing, or next to nothing, but I forced myself to go through the motions and see if I’d get lucky, somehow. While the spot I was shooting from was far from ideal–no sweeping vistas here–once I saw what was happening in the cosmos, I just sat down and shot. I tried about a dozen different angles and hoped for the best. In the end, I think I captured a bit of the majesty I enjoyed in person, which in truth, is always my personal photographic objective. So while the sun may be warmer in June, I’ll always be able to look back and appreciate this gorgeous mid-winter sunset. Hope you enjoy…

Postcards from the Edge…

 

“Wish you were here…” 

Doesn’t just about every postcard you ever got start or end with this sentiment? I am not sure how many people actually send postcards these days, and I suppose our camera phones and wireless smart devices have replaced them almost entirely. I think of my travel photographs as “postcards”… they are a way to mentally transport me, and those I share them with, to another place entirely. In this case, it’s the edge of the western U.S.–at the beach at Santa Monica in California. With gray skies and freezing temps over most of the country, and in many other places in the globe, I thought this warm, picturesque scene might ward off winter’s chill–if not in body, at least in spirit. Hope you enjoy…