Barney meets the D2X
Fran introduced me to Barney last week. I introduced Barney to the sound of my camera. He is a beautiful beast, though he doesn't show to advantage from this angle. I can see many more images to make with him as he gets to know me.
Summer in Albion Basin, looking westward toward Alta, Utah. Location currently under 154" of snow.
After 14 years in Utah, I still don't ski. I like my snow anyway. It clears the air. It is pretty, until the mailman tromps through it and messes it up. I like untrodden snow.
I grew up in southern California. Once every couple of years, we went to visit the snow. R grew up in Texas, where they had ice storms. An inch of snow can shut down Houston, but black ice is worse.
Our neighbor Millie jokes to this day that R and I spent our first December on our porch, snow shovels in hand, waiting for snow. We were excited, even icicles were a wonder. Finally it snowed and snowed.
After a few weeks, another neighbor, Vernon, could not stand watching the amateurs across the street anymore. An elderly, reserved gentleman, he took my husband aside in a completely uncharacteristic outburst of busybodiness, and gave him a snow shoveling lesson:
It was a manly conversation; I think Vernon would have suffered in silence forever rather than speak so to another man's wife, even if we weren't married yet. But we were so ignorant, we didn't know what we didn't know. I learned once that the difference between ignorance and stupid is that the first implies a simple lack of information, which can be corrected. Stupid is irreparable.
I was thinking about Vernon today, ice-cold plastic shovel in hand. His wife passed away some years ago and he moved away. The mailman still messes up the snow, but he does deliver the mail in all weather. And 154" of snow at Albion will likely produce a glorious batch of wildflowers again this year.
Forecast is for snow, more snow, and then some snow. But tomorrow there is a break in the weather and I'm leaving for Arizona: Wickenburg, Phoenix, Florence. No snow there. I'm not stupid.
Neon sign
R made a kaleidoscope action to use for some of his science images, and he gave it to me. Then I took it a couple steps further in PS, blending layers, masks, etc. I've been inventorying neon around Salt Lake lately, every day during the blue hour. If you have a favorite neon sign that I might have missed, please let me know where to find it.
Neon in Livingston Montana
Here's one from the archives of the February 2007 MT trip. The fun part of making this photo was avoiding the snow slush splashing up from the passing cars. I've been using the short days to add to my collection of neon photos. One a day, from 5:00 - 5:30, while the skies are turning that blue color I favor for my neon. I need to go back to Livingston, just for the neon.
My illustration idea for a book of essays
Ego tells me to wait, pretend it never happened, if my picture isn't chosen. It might be too different from the other concepts, they might not like the colors, the font, someone else's idea is too similar.... Ego makes a ton of racket. But I try to listen to a wiser voice, so here it is. I sent in a contribution to Patti's 37days crazy idea, partly because I wanted to honor anyone who puts herself out on the line like that, partly because I wanted to see what I might come up with. I like what I did with the original a lot. And I wouldn't have gone there without the request for collaboration.
This guy would say I'm crazy for giving it away, that the publisher can afford to pay. But can I afford to pass by the opportunity to participate in another artist's journey, because I didn't see an almighty dollar attached? I didn't do it out of fear that someone else would get the job, or out of shameless self-promotion. I did it because I can afford to be generous, with ideas, time, spirit, and that's what Patti's book is all about. Go do a search on her page for the essay, "choose your seatmates wisely" and see what I mean. If I only have 37 days, I'm glad I made one more piece of art, even if a dollar never touches my hand again.
Bonfire on Inis Meain in celbration of the feast of St. John
I'm going to a bonfire tonight for the high school homecoming in Afton, Wyoming. Last bonfire I went to was in the Aran Islands, just dumb luck that we were there that day. This one is a mission for the Highway 89 project, and if they start on time and the weather holds, I should be able to get some good stuff.
In the meantime, I'm working on B&W conversions for a new project. It's a different way of seeing, and I'm doing some test prints with digital toning. In the past, I've only done toning using Photoshop's Color Balance adjustment layer, which I like much better than its Duotone mode, if only because it's non-destructive and can stay in 16-bit. I'm going to compare the results to Paul Butzi's toning curves, because he's absolutely right about the finer control in the method. I'll have more to say about this after I make a few test prints.
Today I am going to a fire. It was immensely fun to write that sentence.
[TBN...]
I don't have a title for this one. I found it, when I was tidying up my hard drive, in a very aptly named folder: "to do". I've been doing all week, in between drugging myself with a cocktail of cold remedies that have kept me upright and somewhat functional.
I got feedback on my chapter this week, unanimous in advice to change my "voice." The direction is so different, and yet so familiar, that I set aside the first chapter entirely and wrote a whole new one. Yesterday. It's shorter (a good thing) and I like it better. That I wrote it in 6 hours instead of 6 weeks tells me it's more authentic, closer to my story about "my" highway. I like it, and I'm grateful for the push. I'll be sending it back out soon.
As part of the feedback process, I also put together the entire collection of images, south to north. Surprisingly, even I hadn't seen it all as one piece until Wednesday. The gaping holes are now obvious to me, which is another good thing. And some things I thought were mission-critical don't seem so important; the rest is doable. I still have a few thousand miles to go.
Any guesses as to where this image was shot? Or suggestions on what to call it?
Bighorn Sheep Portrait
Metadata
Nikon D2x
70-200 f/2.8 VR
1/250 s at f/3.5
ISO Speed Ratings 400
focal length 116mm
Porthole tableau
I made this image last year on a rainy, no-pretty-picture day in Galway, Ireland. The juxtaposition of the portholes and the soccer symbolism, the perfectly placed circle within a circle, the repetition of the geometry are what caught my eye. It doesn't really fit into any theme or project I've got going, I just like the picture.
I haven't figured out how to integrate my photography archives into my Getting Things Done system. A lot of images are in the "someday" category, as in "I like that, I might have a need for it someday." They are organized into a reference system in 100% GTD approved methodology, but I haven't worked out the triggers to remember, "I might like that in B&W" or "that would be interesting sometime to blog about...". Actually, I try to upload images I might want to blog about when I have the thought (the 2 minute take action rule). I just might make a "someday" image file and toss small jpgs in it, review it occasionally as part of my weekly review. Or solicit some input on the GTD forums.
Another thing I like about the picture is it seems like an apt metaphor for blogging: a porthole or two into someone's life. Right in the center we see the one thing this person is publicly passionate about, and just glimpses of the rest of his life through the curtains. It's up to the person inside to decide how much to reveal. Except the metaphor falls apart, because portholes are mostly for looking out at sea, where there is no audience. I still like the picture.
P.S. On my way to Flagstaff for another round of work on the book. First of three picture-foraging trips this month. Will try to post from the road.
Gannets at Muriwai Beach, North Island, New Zealand
I don't know why I haven't looked at Kiwi news recently. It is always heartening to see a country up in arms about how their citizenry should expect to be treated with more decency than evidenced in the most recent national tragedy.
Continue reading "News from home - Muriwai Beach, New Zealand" »
Clearing storm over the Grand Tetons
A WIP, for you non-knitting blog readers, is a work-in-progress. I like to finish things at least once a week. In fact, I try to schedule myself a "finishing day" which is different from a shooting day, a day given over wholly to the mysteries of Photoshop, or a writing and research day.
On finishing day, prints get put into envelopes. Stamps onto those envelopes, which are then carried to the post office. Emails are sent, documents filed, image files archived onto DVDs. With the last three trips on on top of each other, there hasn't been much finishing going on around here.
So far, there has been a lot of foraging, a sometimes necessary precursor to finishing. On our Yellowstone trip, we made lists of things to do and acquire in anticipation of living out of our 4runner for a month in bear country. I've been knocking back some of those items, essentials like windproof fleece, extra-long spoons to eat the recipes I plan to make from the ingenious Freezer Bag Cooking method. Check out the website too. New fishing poles, a hitch mounted rack for the back of the 4runner, the right sized trash bags are all acquired and checked off the appropriate GTD list. But that's not finishing, just foraging.
I have a mound of things ready to go to the post office tomorrow, just got an email with the last addresses I need. 98% isn't finished - I operate on a binary system of done or not.
It's harder with a new print, this one in particular. The panorama is 6643 pixels wide, four stitched images, and since I am the queen of Photoshop, they are seamlessly hand-masked together. I shot the images in September 2005, and I didn't start assembling the pano until months later. Kind of forgot about it. Moved it so far, then dropped it again, found it again a few days ago when I was organizing the book assets yet again. I'll admit the pano proved a welcome distraction from the organizing task for a little while.
Done is when I have a sample print filed in the drawer, and it's not there yet. Tomorrow is another finishing day - who knows, this one might get done too.
Wheel from a restored fire truck, the Hall of Flame Museum, Phoenix
A foreigner stays a foreigner a long time, whether its a friendly foreigner or whatever. You drag the luggage of otherness with you for a long time.
--from the director's commentary on the DVD of The Man Who Fell to Earth
Now back from a shake-down cruise to Yellowstone. With three trips scheduled for July and August, including a month in Montana, we needed a practice run. Used the GTD process to collect all the data on what needs to be bought, fabricated, invented, organized, simplified. We are plowing through a stack of 3x5 cards this weekend, starting with a major foraging expedition for carabiners, fishing gear, more camo pants and similar things I don't want to live without. Like they don't have stores in Montana.
In the meantime, I spent two full days reorganizing my digital assets for the book project. It's about time to get drive my stake into the ground, claim my territory, declare my ownership of my topic. But not today. A little more footwork is in order, but very soon.
I have always liked this fire truck wheel image, the best in a series I made last year. Even so, it probably won't make it into the final cut for the book. The Hall of Flame in Phoenix is a great, focused museum - I highly recommend it.
Great Salt Lake looking west near Antelope Island
Happy Easter Mom, and you don't need to read any further.
Clark took me up in his Archer on Wednesday to see if I could get a story-telling shot I could not make from the ground, about the encroachment of suburbs on farmland north of Ogden. The light opened up just long enough, and Clark was very patient.
The ducks and waders are back, could even see some from the air near the Bountiful airport. Soon (May 17-22) we'll have the Great Salt Lake Bird Festival. Sometimes people in Utah have the strangest opinion about the Great Salt Lake, along the lines of "there's nothing out there." Even though I know it is actually teeming with life down there, I find the visual starkness of it beautiful.
The spinning neon sign at the Maddox Ranch House, Perry Utah
I'm surprised at how many people in Utah don't know about the Maddox Ranch House because we were sent to eat there within a few weeks of our arrival in 1993. It's a bit of a drive for a meal, but not a photograph.
Three or four exposures in the multiple exposure mode, letting the d2X calculate each of exposures and controlling the overall effect by using the exposure compensation settings in aperature priority. Oddly, the EXIF data doesn't seem to record the number of shutter openings on the ME setting. I also tried 9, 7 and 5 exposures, but this one retains a sense of legibility to the letters that I like. I've got some more fodder for a possible remix, and a story for the book project that will have to wait. It'll be worth it, trust me.
The tricolor is the French name for their national flag
Shot on the Peugeot showroom floor on the Champs Elysee in Paris in 2003. On film. Uploading it now to anntorrence.com - more progress on the Getting Things Done next actions list.
People either love or hate this one. How about you?
A favorite explosion
Hello explosion seekers from Google, Yahoo and beyond,
The word "explosion" ranks among the most popular search terms for traffic to my site. I'm not really sure why so many people are interested in explosions. Since these images aren't representative of my main work, I wondered if I should take them down, but I decided instead to move them here. If you like fires, you might also like the What Lights Nate original and remix.
Look around, and then would you do me a favor and click on the Technorati faves? Make a link to my site. Or leave a comment and explain the mystery - why are so many of you looking for explosion pictures?
Thanks. AT
Updated 2007.03.20 - if you reached this page from an Omerta user's page, please leave a comment or send me an email with that person's username. Thanks.
My monster from Japan
I brought this fellow home from Japan in either 1997 or 1998. I kept him in my office at the UofU and brought him home last year. He sits peaceably next to the pink elephant and the Virgin on my Artist Way shelf. I bought it as souvenir of all the great monsters of Japan, mythologic and cinemagraphic; only when I got home did I realize that the tag (which he still sports) said "made in China." I think the tag looks like a cape in this photo.
I long known of the "pink elephant in the living room that no one talks about" as metaphor for denial, so imagine my surprise when I brought home this little guy. Sharon took me on a shopping trip to acquire the Feng Shui'ing necessities for the Year of the Pig (I bought lots of green bamboo). The table of plastic elephants kept calling my name, and this one was the best, even if pink. Sharon says elephants are symbols of good luck in the Feng Shui paradigm. So the pink elephant sits on my Artist Way shelf, alongside my glow-in-the-dark Virgin Mary from Lourdes.
The real problem with this Getting Things Done system is eventually you finish organizing and then you have to actually do some things. Especially the things you've been procrastinating on, because they are new, uncomfortable, risky. And those items are staring you in the face on the "Next Actions" list. Day after day. Ok, only for 5 days since I got set up, but I have a low tolerance for that kind of structured pain.
I heard a great line today: "if at first you don't succeed, ask for help." I've been making cold calls for the project, 3 in the last 2 days, asking people I don't know to set up specific images I want to put in the book. Lucky pink elephant must be working, because everyone has been so kind and helpful. I'm thinking that the magic/metaphor isn't the elephant itself, but whether I talk about what's important, and ask for help when needed.
The best thing about my elephant isn't the color - it's the circus ball. Because this is fun - there's nothing I like better than talking about my project, telling all the stories I'm collecting, inviting people to the party, making the pictures. And if it takes a lucky pink elephant to get the job done, I'll be the first one to laugh at the mixed metaphor.
Bill Barnes in Ogden invited me to come shoot his newest baby at the first car show of the season. I met Bill at Bonneville last year, and we hooked up again at Peach Days last fall, so when he called, I knew it would be worth my while to go out in the snow and take a look while they were setting up the show.
Galway central district, multiple exposure
"Cheerios have holes." That's what Deann said today. It's an immutable fact. Another fact is that I smashed my seven month old Motorola Razr V3 in Marlene's car door, and that wasn't too good for it. I'll be getting a new phone tomorrow. It actually still works, if I were a true aficionado of duct tape, I probably could keep it going. But I can do better by myself these days. Luckily, I got it to work long enough to forward my calls to another number. Dang, I loved that pink color.
Wildflower abstraction - 2004
One thing I've learned: I need to remember to "restock the well" that feeds my creative process, hopefully before I completely deplete my resources and exhaust myself. Usually, this requires only a small amount of time devoted to off-topic, aimless diversion, free-association, and fool speculation.
Julia Cameron's work recommends "artist's dates" at least once a week, a goal I have a hard time meeting. But I did some profitable blog browsing yesterday, which resulted in finding out about the OUT/EX film series. The films were all based on found footage repurposed by the directors to tell their own stories. Each piece dredged up a new stream of memories and associations.
Continue reading "Restocking the well - wildflower abstract" »
"Big Blue," the Wells Fargo building in Salt Lake City
Yesterday, I had a long conversation with Trish about finding one's authentic voice in corporate blogging. We've both been reading Don Loper, and marveling at his openness in some recent posts.
Trish and I covered the waterfront on issues of grammar, style, acceptability of ranging off-topic from the blog purpose, etc. I got on my soapbox a bit, going on about how blogging requires a greater level of candor and informality than traditional corporate PR media. The blogging audience has come to expect authenticity, and when they read corporate-speak, they distrust, and then they become disinterested. Trish had an interesting take from the 45 minutes of time I took up that she could ill afford to spend on philosophy.
Continue reading "Meta-blogging - Big Blue, Salt Lake City, Utah" »
Perfection in the art of latte
Picture this: R and I sitting on the sofa, downloading all of the new Mac ads. Since we don't look at tv, how else are we going to see them? (Geek point: +1, total of 1) We would have looked at the superbowl, but we don't have cable and the rabbit ears couldn't pull in the channel. (GP: -1, net 0).
Mitchell and Webb, the Apple ad presenters in the UK
Now picture this: This afternoon, after working at VisualShare for a good part of the day making training movies (GP: +.5, net .5), I sat down to listen to the Geoff Show on ITunes while knitting on my sweater (GP: +1, net 1.5) and reading some feeds on NetNewsWire (GP: +1, net 2.5). The prize for the Dead of the Night contest was a CD by Mitchell and Webb, the presenters in the Apple ads. Huh?
Different ads on the Apple UK site. Different scripts for the same concepts, and one UK-specific concept. More downloading, more frittering, more geek points ensue ( GP: +1, net 3.5).
The one thing that might save me from total geekdom is that I don't drink coffee. Not as a moral issue, or part of a healthy lifestyle. I just don't like it - ain't it sad. (GP: -2, net 1.5). I've tried; my days could be a lot easier sometimes with a serious shot of caffeine. Despite this character flaw, Alan, the Coffee Garden proprietor, let me come down Saturday morning to try out a remix concept.
Derrick and Michelle, coffee collaborators in the pursuit of a noble art form
Saturday morning before 8:30, when relative calm prevails in the Coffee Garden oasis, and the barristas (that link earns a partial GP: +.5, net 3.0) have time to make the most beautiful lattes in the world. R has drunk them on four continents, and scales their flavor to the CG standard. Nothing compares. Or so he tells me. I bought them, made my shots of the beautiful foam, and gave them to the spectators. I was happy, they were happy.
Latte in a box
Lofi latte set (a cardboard box lined with aluminum foil). Behind and to the right of the box, you can just see the conclusive evidence that I just might qualify as a geek - the diet cola habit. (GP: +1, net 4.0). Alan never says a word about my everpresent pop when he's making R's skinny grande latte. Alan is definitely not a geek.
Photographing a sport I know nothing about means committing to some effort and practice time to learning the intricacies of its timing. I went out Saturday, a beautiful blue-sky afternoon on the slope, wandered about, and made a bunch of pictures.
The wind blew snow crystals grating across the surface. This sounds like sandpaper. The snowpack was icy; some of the kiters hit really hard. Yet, despite going every direction of the compass, these folks are under control - no one got anywhere near colliding with me, and I was out in the middle of it, almost certainly in the way.
I know what I want for the project now. Hopefully, third time will be the charm. Chris says he's going to go take a lesson soon, maybe we'll go up together.
P.S., if you were out there on Saturday, and I made your photo, send me an email or leave a comment on the blog, won't you? See you next time.
Perfect for frittering the day away
What I'm reading:
What I'm knitting:
What I'm working on when not frittering time away on above:
I don't think Nile Tiles counts as working. The Geoff Show counts so long as I listen while I work. But I'm the only one counting, and it's my opinion that counts.
Look at the potential in that faded beauty
All that's left of the North Star Twin theater in Ogden, Utah is the marquee, and that doesn't look like it'll last much longer. The new houses on the lot are already roofed, sheathed, and the curbs for the new street look very new. In fact, I couldn't quite figure why the sign is still there at all. Peeling paint, dangling neon tubes, broken bulbs. A minor tragedy in the scheme of things, but it makes me sad nonetheless.
I want it. I want to rescue it, and all the others. I love neon. I want to ranch neon. Neon is compatible with my other dream - keeping donkeys. A small herd, to carry my gear. Because donkeys are social creatures, I wouldn't dream of having just one. Same with neon - it needs like companions. The donkeys can graze under the neon. The neon can be restored to its former glory - just look at what they did in Albuqurque.
In the 21st century, audacious plans begin with "can I get the URL?" And the answer is YES, I now own neonranch.com and neonranch.org.
Vodka party beverages
I got up to Chester's Blacksmith Shop in Park City on Friday, photographing an art show opening again this year. See the on-line gallery.
This year, I arrived early enough to poke around the Sundance scene on Main Street before the party started. I counted three tv satellite trucks in two blocks, and the night was young. Not clear to me why ESPN and MySpace have a presence on Main Street.
At Chester's, I met five of the artists in the of the Hang'm High exhibit, all doing some pretty cool stuff. I met more interesting people, like David Choe, who did the recent cover of Juxtapoz, and animated filmmaker M dot Strange, who was killing time before the Sundance (world) premier of his animated movie, "We are the Strange" at midnight that night.
I would be a useless paparazzi, in that I don't recognize celebrities. If I ever looked at tv, I might not have been surprised that:
Same infrared image, 6 color maps.
I spent the better part of this week on digital house-keeping, and found this stop sign picture. I took it on a walk when I first got my IR filter last summer and I remember thinking how cool it was that the paint seemed to disappear. Yesterday, I started goofing around with different color maps, when I "should" have been doing something more productive. Pretty soon, this is what happened. I'm not sure where I'll go with it next, but I'm glad I didn't stop when my "better" judgment told me to get back to work.
Mohave Point, Grand Canyon National Park
The big snow storm before Christmas spread from SLC all the way to middle Arizona, so we accelerated our departure by 24 hours. Two punctured tires, a stop at Cabela's for hand-warmers, a motel door in Cameron AZ that couldn't be opened except by brute force, and we made it to the Grand Canyon for sunrise.
I hadn't been to the south rim since I was 13 years old - this was not the kind of properly scouted photo-op I like for my best work. R and I drove along the rim that morning, checking out all the overlooks, and I was disappointed to see a little haze already building up in the canyon. A ranger told us that the canyon itself sometimes had a inversion pattern, and what we were seeing wasn't pollution, just fog.
I watched some clouds floating up out of the canyon as we left the visitor center at Mather Point. Riding shotgun, I called for a stop at Mohave Point, where rising warm air lifted fleeting clouds from below the rim. The updraft also brought flocks of ravens. R stopped counting individuals after 202. We've never before seen ravens by the dozen--as many as 50 would stream by in the air currents. We watched them land just below the rim, picking for something (fallen pinons?) on the margins of shady, snow-covered ledges. The next day, the clouds were gone, the canyon got pretty hazy and the ravens cruised along in ones and twos again.
We were lucky, and guessed right on the weather. I would will drive through another snowstorm to see the ravens and the mist rising to meet the canyon's rim.
Traditional haystack in Jackson Hole Wyoming
I've been meaning to show you this one for a while. I made it last fall on the last day of our annual sea kayaking trip to Grand Tetons. I'll remember for a long time how amazing it was to watch the fog burn off as the sun climbed over the ridge.
Temple Square, Salt Lake City, Utah
Admiring the baby during a rest break
The LDS stake (several small congregations) in our neighborhood hosts a live nativity evey year. For one night. Not 6 days a week for a month. The folks in Fairview have committed themselves to an endearingly audacious plan, and I went out to see it last week.
The three kings traveled down Main Street to reach the manger
First, we waited for someone to bring the outfits back from being home laundered. The baby was bundled up, her mom dressed up as Mary, the staffs issued to the shepherds, gifts to the wisemen. No camels, but someone got a fire going. The cast came tumbling out of the restaurant.
Smiles of an angel
It was below freezing, but not as cold as the week before. I was the audience for the first half hour. Joseph read the Christmas story and everyone acted out their parts. Then they sang all the carols, all the verses. The Victorian-costumed carolers came out of the restaurant for a while to sing with the shepherds. One of the wisemen had an angelic voice. A few people stopped, made a u-turn on the highway. Got their cell phone camera shots, heard a carol chorus, and went inside for a hot chocolate. The baby smiled and didn't fuss at all. The sweetest part of all was that they sang just for themselves. All the carols, all the verses.
Away in the manger, in the cold and dark of the night.
Vintage Paint Remix, version 2
In adding a few more images to my permanent galleries, I decided to revisit this one. I really liked the brighter colors when I chose them at great length last month (version 1). Today, I find that the mood of the desaturated tones better matches my intentions for this image.
Vintage Paint Remix, version 1
I could go either way, maybe do an Andy Warhol and make a half dozen variations. I may know what I want it to look like, but thinking up the title is a different kettle of fish. It's easy to be too clever by half. Obvious locations help, but not for this one (which I happened to shoot out at Bonneville Speedway). I thought about V173212, briefly, and discarded even more silly ones that I've already forgotten. "Untitled #xx" feels pretentious, so I pick something simple and hope I remember it. Wouldn't want to be mixing up the remixes, now would I?
Signal indicator on an old Ford truck
I am not sure about how to think about this. According to my Google stats, two phrase tie for most referrals to my website: "explosions" and "live nativity".
I have some good news about the website - I just added a shopping cart and some products to buy! I'm starting my adventure in e-commerce with 11 different 5x7 notecards. I'll probably mix in a few sets. If there are any other images you, dear reader, would want in a notecard format, let me know. I'm working out the arrangements to offer matted prints as well.
I'm off tomorrow for Tucson on a photo expedition. I'm planning to go to San Xavier del Bac, Tumacacori, the botanical garden, and scout all the way down to Nogales.
One more thing: I've joked [sort of] that I might put the camera away if I could learn to work with glass. There isn't a hot shop in SLC, but there is one in Tucson, and they offer a chance to blow a Christmas ornament. I'm signed up for Saturday. I asked if I could bring the camera - not planning to give it up just yet.
In the canyon of Zion's Weeping Rock
I captured the underlying picture in this image in May 2005. It took me eighteen months to decide how to interpret it. My Mom pointed out the scene and asked me to shoot it. I probably would still be mulling this shot over if I weren't driving south this coming week and stopping at her house on my way to Tucson. If I'm lucky, she'll want to come along.
Continue reading "All the (water)colors of Zion National Park" »
Mariposa Grove, Yosemite National Park (remix of IR and visible spectra)
Yosemite was my first national park - a high school cross-country team summer camp. The love of wild places stuck even if the running didn't. I've been to many incredible places since, but this one has my heart. R and I hiked up above Vernal Falls, ran out of time to complete the circuit around Nevada Falls before we were to meet my mom and her friends. One place I hadn't been in the park was Mariposa Grove, and R had never seen giant redwoods before. I captured the last bit of sunlight in the tree tops with the IR filter.
Sunset from Glacier Point
This was a family, not a photography trip, but we found the time to get up to Glacier Point for sunset. I have been here in mid-winter, and again in April, the last time in 1987. The changes in the park that I noticed most were seasonal - and I felt the changes in myself. I am mentally tougher on the trail and, I think, gentler in my mind. Not sure where this trail is headed; I never could have imagined it would lead me here, much better than I ever would have dreamed. Hope it doesn't take twenty more years to get back to Yosemite again.
John and Meredith's wedding rings
John and Meredith invested into their wedding ceremony all the beauty, grace and humor that they exude as a couple. It was my good fortune and great priviliege to be asked to photograph their wedding. As part of their celebration, they and their friends folded 1,000 Japanese paper cranes. Hung in groups of 25, the cranes fluttered in the breeze of friends' yard where the ceremony toook place. If they could have, those cranes would have taken flight with joy from the outpouring of love we witnessed that day. John and Meredith, Good luck to