Phantoms

Since last fall when I traveled to Spain and France, I have been working on a new series called Phantoms. This week instead of photographing, I have been framing ten of the images to be exhibited at Art Sites, 651 W. Main Street in Riverhead from July 2 - August 7th--with an artist's reception on July 9th from 5 - 7pm, open to the public. I hope those of you within driving distance can come see!

This particular image, Skateboarder, was taken at a very slow shutter speed in Paris beside the Fontaine Saint-Michel in the Latin Quarter as I watched a boy skate around it. Other phantoms in the show were photographed in Barcelona, Miami Beach and Manhattan.

Mystified

What would you say if I told you that this rose used to be pink? I'm sure you'd say that I must seeing things. Well yes, I do have a vivid imagination but there's no mistake; pink roses, bubble-gum pink to be exact, bloomed on this bush for years.

When I first noticed the change a few weeks ago, I was mystified, thought it was some kind of sign. Perhaps it signaled my daughter's upcoming 21st birthday, that she was turning into a woman. Her middle name happens to be, yes, Rose. Or maybe, it was a sign of my own maturity, the richness of my life as my family and my work keeps growing. Whatever the case, I was pleased since I disliked that particular shade of pink.

Then, I decided to research the subject and found out that indeed, white roses can turn pink and pink roses can turn red due to something called "grafting." Apparently, this rosebush was originally red until it was grafted to be pink. And sometimes, after a period of time the process can reverse. Mystical, don't you think?

Natural

There's nothing like natural light.

On Saturday at my grandson's birthday party, my job was to take care of his new baby brother. Amidst all the ruckus--rock music blaring from gigantic speakers and 20 four year-olds dancing around us--I laid him down on a leather chair near a window to let him stretch out and noticed the beautiful light falling on his face.

Since I was trying to take some photos too (my usual job), I grabbed my camera and attempted to capture him without a flash. Fortunately, Blake is a very mellow fellow so far and stayed still for the 1/10 second exposure required.

It was also lucky that these two balls happened to be right there on the chair coordinating with his outfit and mimicking his cherubic face.

Mesmerized

Wind, it's not easy to capture by its very nature.

Yesterday on a sunny afternoon, I noticed a field of grasses swaying in the wind on the side of the road. I can't count the number of times I've been mesmerized by this glorious sight, but have shied away from attempting to photograph it. The sheer motion, it's vastness and all the slender pieces seemed like too much to cram into a still frame.

Setting my shutter at 1/320 second, I tried to isolate a single frond at first. While those images were lovely, they didn't reflect my impression nor my experience. So I zoomed out and maintained a shallow depth of field to exaggerate the motion. Then I let it rip...

Fog

After almost a week of rain, it finally stopped today and the sun came out for a while around noon. By the time I stepped out, however, the weather had already changed---not unusual by the sea here on the East End.

As I walked down the block toward the bay, I felt the moisture in the air and saw that the fog had started to descend. "Wonderful," I thought, "it would be nice to feel the warmth of the sun on my face, but fog is much more interesting."

Then, I started to wonder why. Is it the mystery it evokes? The blur in the distance? A sense of wonder?

Sure, it's all those things. But looking at this image, I realized that what fog does best is bring our attention to what's right in front of us since there's not much more to distract us.

Here, mounds of sea grass stretch into the water like fingers testing the temperature. I had never noticed that before...

Peace

Amid all the recent reminders of September 11th and the talk of nuclear threats since the killing of Bin Laden and the tsunami in Japan, I keep summoning up this image. Taken early on a May morning several years ago less than a mile from my house, it calms me.

I wish I could replace all the pictures of barbed-wire compounds and bloody floors streaming across the media with images like this. I can't help but think that our minds are in drastic need of rewiring.

After all, violence provokes more violence, therefore, wouldn't peace provoke more peace?

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.

Spent

There's nothing more "springy" than tulips. Last week when I was given this bunch they stood up straight at attention, their petals closed tight into yellow fists. Each day I admired them as they opened little by little, spreading wider over my dining room table.

Then over the weekend, they started to droop. As they reached down almost touching the cherry wood, I waited until this morning to photograph them in the natural light shining through the nearby window.

Yes, fresh flowers are lovely, but there's something remarkable and quite touching about tulips when they're spent.

Worker

When my grandson heard that a truck had dumped a mountain of mulch on my driveway last Sunday, he begged his parents to drop him off at my house so he could help. Shovel in hand, he dug right in, helping to fill the wheelbarrow and spread the mulch over my many beds. Of course, in between trips around the yard, he ran up and down the huge pile, filling his sneakers with his own private stash.

As the sun sank down in the afternoon, I realized this was the perfect photo opportunity. One of the most difficult jobs as a photographer is to capture young children as they dart around. However, one of the best ways is to engage them in an activity that they love so they forget about the camera.

My grandson loves to work, especially in the dirt. Can you tell?

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.