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…

Sky on fire…

 

Sometimes, as photographers, you just gotta indulge in a moment of passion. I say that because once in a while, there is nothing more succulent than pure, natural color. We humans are drawn to it like moths to a flame. Last night’s fleeting pre-dusk sky was a masterful stroke by Mother Nature, comprising every succulent color from indigo to gold in her palette. You could not help but step outside and, well, just stare… After a moment or two of silently drinking this scene in, I grabbed the first camera I saw and pointed it heavenward. For once, no post-processing was required. Nature, got this one exactly right. Hope you enjoy…

Being and Nothingness…

 

Some people might look at this image and think, “There’s nothing there.” Others might look at it and think, “The whole world is there.” Photography has infinite shades and nuances, which is part of the everlasting appeal of the art to me. I shot this image a few days ago, on one of those, forgive the trite phrase, “picture perfect” new autumn afternoons–when the world was bright and aglow with the crispness of early fall, and the sky was a sketchbook of possibilities. Coming home from a work meeting… my eyes couldn’t take themselves from the sky, where it seemed that every manner of cloud formation–cumulus, cirrus, stratus, nimbus–had come together in a magnificent display, each formation as fleeting as time itself. Yes, I suppose you could say this is only a picture of the sky. But to me, the whole world is there. Hope you enjoy…

Up, up, and away…

 

When you are out on a photography assignment, it’s easy to become focused on the business at hand. But when you have a camera around your neck, the world is your oyster. This shot is an example of why it’s important to look up and around, and not just through the lens. I was out shooting a soccer practice at the fields close to our home, when I saw this blimp go bobbing by. It came closer, and closer and at first I didn’t react, but the more it sat there, in my field of view, I figured I’d see if I could take more than simply a grab-and-go shot. As it turned on its end to make a loop in the sky, I took my shot. In the end, I really liked the way it’s isolated with the dramatic clouds underneath, a small alien in a sea of atmosphere. 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…

Evening color…

 

The dusky scene outside my front porch, several days ago. An evening silhouette, in a palette of pure, rich color. Peaceful. Hope you enjoy…

Desert blues…

My title for this shot relates to the fact that one often thinks of the desert in browns, oranges, and tans, but when I visited the high desert of Arizona a couple of months ago, I found it to be quite the opposite. This shot, over the beautiful Sonoran Desert, was thick with vegetation and in the early morning when this was taken, a soothing blue cast was reflected from the deep azur sky above. So gorgeous, you just wanted to drink it in. Hope you enjoy…

Sky candy…

I admit it. I am a sucker for gorgeous skies. Sunrises and sunsets are kind of like the golden retriever puppy of photographic images–things just look more beautiful, more poignant, when they are framed by a deeply striking sky. But while they are alluring, that is not to say the sky should do all the compositional heavy lifting. The sky may be the star of the show, but its supporting cast–that is the rest of the composition–must be strong as well, in order for the image to really work. This photo, for example, was the result of an early morning trek outside my hotel in Scottsdale, Arizona a couple of winters ago. I knew I wanted to capture the deep orange glow of the morning( and Mother Nature did not disappoint) but it took a while to settle on the balance between earthly and ethereal delights. This rock was actually a small, faraway hill, the palm branches on the resort property where I stayed deceivingly make it look as if everything in silhouette are relatively close. I loved the jagged edges and curves of the rock, as they carved a sharp line against the crayola morning sky. In the end, this is the frame that spoke to me. Hope you enjoy…

f/5.0, 1/60th sec, ISO 100, 85 mm