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!

Spontaneity

For me, spontaneity is the key to a good portrait. I've never been particularly good at posing people. And even when I try, they're uncomfortable and too conscious of the camera to allow their true selves to emerge.

Here's a prime example. Last Saturday I crammed my grandson's new bike, his birthday present, into my back seat of my Honda Insight where it barely fit. Then, I proceeded to his party held around the block at our village park. I had hoped that he would be playing in the field or otherwise occupied when I arrived so he wouldn't see the handle bar jutting out of the window.

However, they pulled up right beside my car when we arrived at the same time. He jumped out and peered through the window. Luckily, my camera was resting on the passenger seat and I had the presence of mind to pick it up.
For a more poetic rendition, visit Recovery Thru My Lens!

Hope

A few months ago at around 6pm on a June evening, I heard a crash in my backyard. The trunk of a tree had cracked and fallen just over the fence from my neighbor's property onto mine. No storm, no wind, no warning; a giant maple was strewn across my lawn just like that.

Fortunately it hadn't fallen on my house, my dog, or on anyone outside. But was it some kind of warning? Were the gods trying to tell me something? And now I had a major mess to deal with just as I had finished sprucing up my yard for the summer. Who was going to clean it up? How much was it going to cost?

The following weekend my grandson came to sleep over. When he ran out back to play, he screamed "Grammy what happened?"

As I explained, his eye grew wider and wider. "Can I climb up there?" he grinned with glee.

For a few moments I hesitated. What I had viewed as a catastrophe (albeit minor) and a major nuisance, this child perceived as wonderful. The next morning he jumped out of bed, slipped on his sneakers and ran outside in his pajamas to play.

On this hallowed day, this image gives me some hope for the future. No matter what befalls us, what we must face in this life, the human spirit does prevail.

Mug Shot

On this Christmas Eve, although I don't celebrate the holiday, I do rejoice in its celebration of family, its gravitational pull, the way the idea of Christmas brings families together against all odds. This morning I read about the travellers still stranded in London's Heathrow airport for days because of five inches of snow, longing to be home for the holidays. It made me feel so grateful to be here at home, two miles from my daughter--unusual for families spread around the globe these days.

Here's an image of my grandson taken a few days ago when he was under the weather and I was called in to watch him so his mom could go to work. For hours we played with his enormous fleet of cars, trucks, trains and planes. As he rolled around with them on the floor, I joined him at his level.

At first he was very aware of the camera, but then relaxed into a variety of poses. There were many to choose from for this post, but this one, the very first is my favorite. Full frontal, wife-beater, cowlick, furrowed brow.

"It's a classic mug shot," I commented to his father as we flipped through the images just before he too left for work.

"Great," he said. "I hope that's not what's in store."

If you have been directed to this blog as per my "Holiday" e-mail, it refers to "Miracle" posted on Dec. 17th just below. Although this one fits the bill as well...

Spinning

"My head is spinning." How many times have you heard that? I know I've uttered those words aloud and to myself quite often. Especially these days when we're texting, talking, driving, working, all at the same time. Multi-tasking, it's the mantra of our times. I wouldn't be surprised if the Earth's rotation has picked up speed.

So a few weeks ago for the final session of a kids workshop, we spent time experimenting with motion. After showing the group of 11-year olds one of my Manhattan images of a man leaping in Times Square that I call Billy Elliot, we stepped outside of Amy's Ark Studio in Westhampton. The girls ran directly up a hill toward a swing tethered to a tree. One jumped on and started spinning like a top.
As her long brown hair swirled around her, the rest of us started shooting, trying to freeze her in the frame as she spun by. Not easy since she was moving so fast. To exaggerate the blur and create a moire effect, I chose an extremely slow shutter speed--1/8 second.

"Just keep shooting," I encouraged them. That's the beauty of digital technology, no wasted film; you can keep going until you get a good one. And that's exactly what I did; of the twenty frames expended, I was satisfied with just this one.

So, don't be shy, keep shooting. But don't forget to edit by deleting all the bad ones from your memory card so you're ready to go next time.

If you're in the area this weekend, you can see this image on view during the Westhampton Artists Studio Tour at Amy's Ark Studio & Farm where I will be displaying a new series of prints from this blog called Texture. Call 288-1954x241 for tickets.

Double Duty

This month I'm conducting three workshops per week at various venues in the area. While I start each session with landscapes and progress to still life, students seems most interested in learning how to take better pictures of their loved ones.

My philosophy, however, is that one needs to learn about composition and light before trying to capture things that move. So as I began to plan the upcoming lesson on portraiture, it was apropos that my most active subject, my three-year-old grandson, arrived at my doorstep Saturday to spend the morning with me while my daughter went to work.

"Where's Copper?" he asked as my six-month old puppy bounded toward him. For the next few hours, they played like siblings indoors and out while I ran after them making sure that the dog wasn't too rough with the boy and visa versa and that Copper didn't eat Brody's toys.

When they finally relaxed, Copper hopped onto the window seat in my front room, his favorite spot, and Brody followed. Quickly I grabbed my Canon and set it on the portrait setting. No time to fiddle with the camera; just enough time to capture the moment.