Life among the ruins…

 

I’ve been overwhelmed in recent months with a variety of photographic pursuits–all of them interesting, exciting, and some involving new skills and adventures–so my blog has been a tad quiet, comparatively speaking. But with the new year upon us now, I am refreshed and ready to get back on track. To inaugurate 2014, I have been dipped back into a wealth of images that I created earlier this year during a visit to Philadelphia.

For many people, both in the U.S. and worldwide, Philly conjures up such things as the Liberty Bell, Independence Hall, and other iconic Americana. And yes, that’s all there. But artistically speaking, there is so much more. This image is one of my favorites from a series shot at Eastern State Penitentiary. Yes, an abandoned federal prison, with a history as rich with stories and flavor as any you’ll find in the U.S. criminal justice system. Al Capone made his residence here, along with a thousands of others from its inception as a model prison in 1829 to the day it’s doors were finally closed in 1971. It’s an eerie place, to be sure–all cells have sat untouched for the last four decades, the ghosts of those inhabitants somehow still inside. This photo is taken inside the front central wall of the prison yard and to me, is a testament of the idea that life goes on; this small tree, somehow rooting and taking a foothold at the very top of the wall, where it can breathe in life on the other side.

The photograph below, shows the same wall from a slightly different perspective. In color, one can truly see the vestiges of life, moss, weeds, and the little tree, ekeing out existence among the ruins. One can only hope a few of the previous residents at Eastern State, were as lucky. Hope you enjoy…

 

Prelude to a story…

 

Travel and street photography provide one of the richest sources for inspiration for me as a photographer. As a kid, growing up in the era of Life magazine and pouring over my National Geographics, I was always drawn to the tapestry of rich images that filled those pages, drawing me in, making me wonder about the people and their lives which were so foreign to my own. As a photographer today, I suppose I am drawn to images that tell those kinds of stories, or at least hint around the edges of them. This photograph was taken during a recent visit to Philadelphia, as my family and I were awaiting our day long excursion on the Big Bus to see Philly from top to bottom. The gentleman was an amazing flautist, skipping from one patriotic melody to another with fluidity and ease, his small flags framing his meager spot of the 12th Street Reading Terminal corner he called his own. His talent as well as his dignity captivated me, and today, I wonder about his life and where and how he mastered his instrument so well. It’s a simple photograph, with so many stories to tell. Hope you enjoy…

Solar power…

As we find ourselves on the cusp of winter’s edge, it’s nice to harken back just a few months and remember the powerful warmth of summer’s magnificent sun. This fiery image, taken while cruising along the southeastern tip of Mexico, was truly a beauty to behold. Feel free to conjure it up anytime the chill of the season upon us takes its toll! 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…

Rocks of ages…

Traveling the world offers unlimited sources for wonderment and revelation, and, with camera in hand, an infinite source of inspiration. Several months ago, my family and I traveled to Costa Maya and explored the Mayan ruins at Chacchoben. It’s mind-blowing to imagine how early natives built these gargantuan structures stone by stone as early as 300 AD, and the fact that they have remained largely intact is nothing short of miraculous. The beauty of the stones is evident when you examine them from an angle such as this one, which shows that no compromise was taken in the art or engineering of their graceful form. If these walls could talk, one can only imagine the secrets of the ages they could tell. Hope you enjoy…

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…

Lost at sea…

 

You never really get a sense of how vast the earth is until you are in the middle of a body of water that has no visible bounds. No landmarks, no sights, not even a distinct horizon. My family and I recently took our first cruise, so it was the first time I had experienced the phenomenon of feeling like I was a tiny dot in the middle of an enormous, boundless sea. The first couple of days we set sail in pea soup–gray, misty, and damp;  hour after hour of nothingness. Initially, I was disappointed at not experiencing the beautiful tropics touted in the travel brochures, but slowly, this gave way to a feeling that was  just as strangely exhilarating–the feeling of being utterly alone in the middle of “nowhere.” Of course, it wasn’t actually “nowhere”… we were sailing across the Gulf of Mexico and  the Caribbean Sea on our way to Honduras, but emotionally, it felt like nowhere. It was existential and spiritual at the same time–looking out over a sea such as this certainly makes you reflect on the courage of the world’s early explorers or of anyone who was ever  lost at sea, and even more so, how your own, singular life fits into this huge, vast world. Eventually, I began to use this time to relax, let down, and simply breathe in the moment, which is one of the best rewards of any vacation. 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…

As the world turns…

A change of pace is always good, so today’s post is a departure from that last few landscapes I have been focusing on of late. This image of a Foucault Pendulum was shot at the Griffith Observatory in Los Angeles earlier this year. These pendulums, named after the French physicist Leon Foucault, first appeared in the mid 1800s and are designed to demonstrate the rotation of the Earth on its axis. They are, to say the least, mesmerizing. Photographically, I was inspired by the beautiful lines and curves in this particular Foucault, which resembled a huge clock face, conjuring ideas about the relation of time and space. In addition, this was shot at night, so the perimeter was lit from underneath and provided additional  graphic drama to the scene. Hope you enjoy…

Nature at her best…

 

I was recently perusing some of the photographs I tool while on a walk through Muir Woods last year, and just the sight of those giant, lumbering trunks, the shafts of sunlight pushing their way through the thick foliage to offer twinkling beams in between the branches, made me wish I could close my eyes and teleport back there for just one more look. I was there on a family trip and it was a relatively quick walk through the forest, but certainly enough time to drink it in, and take a few shots I am thankful for. Interestingly, while the shots of the towering giants are probably the ones that capture the most iconic memories, the one above perhaps captures the essence of Muir best for me. While the striking Sequoia may be the stars, the rest of the forest was to me, equally delightful. The lush ferns, thick with morning dew and spiderwebs, the sprouting young Sequoia, pushing through the undergrowth to begin a life that will surely last longer than several generations of my own, and the fuzzy moss that provides a moist blanket on every living surface–these also resonate in my mind, and refresh my soul like a long, cool drink. Hope you also enjoy…