Found

I'm a firm believer that the best photographs are the ones you happen to find along the way in the midst of your daily routine. Last weekend on a grey misty morning while I was walking my dog through my tiny hometown, I came across this scene. I must have passed this bagel store hundreds of times, but it wasn't until I noticed its interplay with this colorful array of skateboards that I appreciated its humor. For a more poetic take, go to Recovery Thru My Lens.

Flaming

As Hurricane Sandy heads toward us, I'm wondering how bad it will really be, how much work I should do. For Irene last year, I moved my computer and all my photographs upstairs in case of flooding; and all we got was some wind. Hmmm.....this time they're saying it could be the worst storm ever. This image comes to mind as I wonder whether we'll lose power. Wouldn't it be wonderful if we could convert all the leaves flaming outdoors into the energy we might need to cook and read by? Wouldn't that be the ulitimate in sustainability?

Autumn Light

There is something about porches in the late afternoon light that I find so peaceful. Over the weekend I visited an old friend in Westchester where I hadn't been in many years. When I entered her beautiful home around 5pm, I headed straight to the back porch where autumn light was skimming its surface. And there with little effort on my part, I captured this composition. For a more poetic take on this image, visit Recovery Thru My Lens.

Flyer

Oooh, I've been so remiss here...life has gotten away with me these days. ...

But here's something wonderful I captured the other day in front of my local sushi restaurant. Little Elvin, the son of the owner whom I've known for about twenty years. When I saw him with his Radio Flyer, I couldn't resist his adorable stance and expression. The contrasty midday light presented quite a challenge for a portrait, but the shadow on his face seems to compliment his mood.

For a more whimsical take on this image...go to Recovery Thru My Lens!

Capture

Although I complain about too much technology to the point of creating an entire collection, called Phantoms, to show how it's the demise of society as I've known it, here's an instance where it definitely came in handy.

When I go to the beach lugging beach chairs, umbrella, towels, books, etc, I leave my camera behind to lighten the load and avoid damaging my equipment. However, now that the i-Phone takes such good pictures, I can whip it out if I see something I can't resist.

Sure, I can't control the f-stop, shutter speed or the focus and the file size is limited, but when there's a choice between capturing the image or not, I  succumb.

In this case, if I would have waited to return the next day with my Canon, this creature would certainly have been washed away.

For a more personal take on the alligator, go to Recovery Thru My Lens.

Drift

There's something magical about sandbars. Usually they appear here at the end of the summer, but this one materialized early in June five years ago. This is one of my favorite beach images, yet this is the first time I am writing about it.
While relaxing on a Quogue beach one afternoon, I noticed how the shoreline appeared severed to the left. The next day I returned with my medium-format film camera late in the afternoon when the light was low. Stationed in this spot, composition ready, I pre-visualized the image and waited for someone to come walking into the scene. After several passed, this couple dressed in white mosied into the frame skirting the inner waterway on either side.
For a long time I had called this photograph simply Sandbar. A few days ago, however, I re-titled it Drift after writing a short verse with it in mind for my other blog, Recovery Thru My Lens. Take a look and find out why...

Shadow

Sometimes a simple shadow can produce a dramatic image.
I went outside this morning to photograph the forsythia petals I had been looking at out my window for the past week and thinking about how to shoot them--actually to post on my other blog, Recovery Thru My Lens. 

When I finally got out there with my camera, I looked through the viewfinder (yes, I still use it), saw my shadow and started to move out of the way. Then I envisioned some dynamic images that my friend, Robyn has been posting on her blog, Through the Healing Lens, that she calls Pain Shadow, and stayed put.

Here is the result. When I reviewed the 10 frames taken, I found this one most interesting; how it appears like I'm attached to the tree and how the greatest concentration of petals fall within the outline of my head and arm supporting the camera.

Coincidence or not, you tell me?

Spring

Sometimes the best pictures can be found right around the corner. This image, my quintessential Spring photograph, was taken five years ago as I was travelling home along a stretch of road where by some miracle the farmland has been preserved and the one or two farmers left have not sold out to Hamptons developers. So each Spring I marvel at this pristine sight as the pastels emerge.

Taken with my medium-format camera, it's a good example of how film captures the subtleties and nuances of color and detail rendering a warmth and richness that's beyond digital technology. Now, that's my opinion...

And checkout my second blog--Recovery Thru My Lens--launched last week, that's more personal and inspirational, where I compose a brief poem for each image. Right now it's featuring the same one which may occur sometimes, sometimes not---I haven't quite decided since it's still a work in progress. So if you are so inspired, you can follow me there too...

Forsyth Park

Back to my trip down south last month, here's an image of the Spanish moss hanging over Forsyth Park in the heart of Savannah. There are many factors coming into play that make this pleasing to the eye: the moss framing the top, the woman and her bicycle providing a focal point to the right, and the silver and green cooling the palate.
It feels so much like a tapestry to me that I'm planning to use it as the backdrop for a new collage. Since starting that series called Out of Whack last summer, I haven't come across the right image to inspire a new piece. So I'm excited to get to work!
Also, if you're an artist and would like to create a blog something like this, I'm giving a workshop, Blogging for Artists, next Saturday at the East End Arts School. Details are here in the News section!

Sunrise

A few days after posting the sunset image, I woke up to a panoply of color outside my window that catapulted me out of bed to find my camera. With just a few moments left before it would fade, I found the best spot to frame the scene atop a second floor staircase just outside my laundry room facing east. Again, I used my telephoto lens holding it steady for a relatively long 1/25 second exposure.
They say that things come in threes, so I imagine I will see another display of winter color sometime soon. Perhaps at midday?

Autumn Colors?

Looking out my window, I can't help but notice that there's not much color this fall nor many leaves left on the trees. Due to Hurricane Irene and the recent nor'easter that dumped snow everywhere in the area except here on the East End, most were blown away before they could reach their peak. Therefore, I thought I'd post an image from a glorious fall taken several years ago.

Up until recently, Northeasterners could claim that climate change hadn't affected them as badly as those in other areas. After all, we weren't subject to tsunamis, earthquakes, fires and drought. Yes, we've been kvetching about hotter summers and much colder winters, but we seem to be finding the money to pay for more energy and to clear away all that snow.

But now it seems to be claiming one of our most sacred pleasures---our autumn colors! Have you noticed?

Brush Fire

As summer comes to a close and we edge toward the first day of fall, I recall this image taken several years back in a nearby park. That autumn afternoon when I tromped around with my medium format camera (notice the square frame) in the late afternoon as the sun dipped down, the light skimmed through the trees illuminating this burnt orange brush.

And as I'm apt to do, I stopped down to a wide aperture, f4 or 5.6, to accentuate the foreground and throw the background into a blur.

With the drought continuing in Texas and the wildfires still burning out of control, this image seemed to signify the coming season when mother nature unfurls her unrelenting fury as well as her most exquisite beauty.

Lime

Lime, it's the hallmark of spring. That fresh green color that sprouts from the branches and pops up in the garden. All that grey and suddenly, almost overnight lime takes over the landscape.

Late yesterday afternoon, I was looking out a second floor window of my home and found myself staring at the blossoms blanketing the maple tree in my front yard. At first I tried to take a photograph from the window, but the image in my mind's eye did not translate through the camera lens as often happens when shooting from afar.

So I decided to step outside and move closer. I had never stopped to examine an individual maple blossom before. What I discovered was quite beautiful and much more complex than I expected.

Color At Last

Looking out the window or walking down the street these days here on the East End, the landscape is still cloaked in grey. Grey skies, grey shingles, grey branches. Since I usually shoot in color, it hasn't been easy for me to find images in recent months.

I've been dreaming of April and the colors of spring. Like most, I forget that April is perhaps the greyest of months.

Therefore, on a walk in the Quogue Wildlife Preserve this past Saturday with a friend, I was determined to find some color. One of few sunny days of late, I could at least count on the blue sky. But again, the greyness enveloped me.

"Could you help me look for some color," I asked my friend who can be quite observant.

A few minutes later, he pointed out some red branches poking through.

"Thanks," I sighed moving in close.

Repeat

Today on a walk in the park with my grandson, I saw the first forsythia blooming. With my dog in tow too, I hadn't brought my camera on this sunny yet cold day. Returning home, I thought I'd run out again, but once I sat down my energy waned. Fortunately I recalled this image taken in 2007 along a back road in Riverhead.

Displayed on my website as part of my Lines series, I'm still pleased by how the double yellow lines mimic the blooms so beautifully. Sometimes a repeating pattern or color is enough to make an image memorable. Its a simple tip that seems appropriate to share as we wait for spring until the bitter end...

Escape

If you were wondering where I escaped and missed posting last week, the answer is Miami. Arriving on Super Bowl Sunday, I stayed right on the strip in South Beach in the heart of the Art Deco district across the street from the ocean. For the first few days, I wandered around in disbelief feeling guilty that my friends and family were home freezing. How could it be 80 degrees and sunny in this place when most of the country is covered by snow?

When I accepted my good fortune and let go of the guilt, I started to look around and appreciate the architecture and tropical colors. Since I was focusing on people on the street for another project, I hadn't taken any sightseeing photos. But on the last morning there, I spotted this Chevy BelAir parked in front of the Edison Hotel and raised my camera. Its canary yellow was a wonderful complement to the Wedgewood blue. If it wasn't for the motorcycle parked behind the car, you might think this image was taken in 1955 when this car came out, a year before I was born.