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!

Girls

As the mother of two daughters, I couldn't resist this group convening before a T-ball game at my grandsons birthday party earlier this month. As the boys on the Blue team chased one another around the field, the girls on the Red team congregated in the field for some instruction. 

And as my husband dispelled some baseball basics, I couldn't help but notice how they listened so intently with their distinct personalities stamped on their faces and displayed by their statures.

How did the notion evolve that nurture can trump nature when it comes to the difference between the sexes?

Visit Recovery Thru My Lens for a more lyrical perspective.

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!

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...

Present

The most important ingredient for taking good photographs is being present. It doesn't matter what kind of equipment you have if you're not aware, living in the moment.

This image of my daughter taken last weekend just before her sister's college graduation ceremony is a perfect example. We had arrived over one hour early at the campus to stake out our seats for six people. At the time, the closest ones to the stage were smack in the middle, directly in the sun. As we waited, amid the crowd, sweat beading on our foreheads, I fretted about how I would get a shot of the graduate through all the heads as she walked down the middle aisle.

Then I looked up and saw my older daughter's smile set aside Healy Hall, the oldest building at Georgetown. Lifting my camera, I took three shots. This one, the last, of her wistfully glancing sideways as if she knew exactly how I was framing her, is my favorite. If I had continued to fret, hadn't been present, I wouldn't have this precious momento.
For a more poetic take on this image, go to Recovery Thru My Lens.

Earth Day

As I toted my two grandsons from booth to booth at an Earth Day celebration in Westhampton yesterday, we encountered this Great Horned Owl, named Hooter, courtesy of the Quogue Wildlife Rescue. Clinging to a wooden perch, he was hanging out in broad daylight for all to see his topaz eyes, feathery ears and camouflage coat. 

Fortunately, I had stuffed my camera in the diaper bag, so I grabbed it and moved up close. Swiveling his head around 180 degrees, I waited until he faced me eye to eye and started shooting. 

At first, the images were quite formal, the typical bird portrait you might see on a nature calendar. But after a while, perhaps 15 frames, it seemed that Hooter relaxed and became more comfortable with me, that we developed a repoire.  It seems that birds of a feather do flock together...
To read a personal reflection on Hooter go to Wisdom on Recovery Thru My Lens.

Infinity and Beyond

In support of the Occupy Wall Street movement, I'm posting this image taken on Saturday at Zuccotti Park near Wall Street. Of all the protesters, this one engaged me most. No sign of anger, no litany of words, just a simple symbol and an upraised arm.

Yes I know what some of you might be thinking. What exactly do they want? What do they expect to change? Well, it's that attitude, that complacency that's kept 99% of us down. And no, I didn't sleep in the park or even picket, but I was uplifted to see what looked like a lot of middle class people speaking up, finally taking a stand.

When I saw this fellow, I sunk to my heels and shot upwards; it was my way of enhancing his stature, amplifying his stand...

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.

Blake

This morning at 12:21, Blake Levi Schaffer arrived. Eight pounds, two ounces. After just three hours of labor, he's finally here!

As I've said before, I don't like to use this forum to show-off my family. But you'll have to bear with me on this one. After all, I am a Jewish mother and now a grandmother of two.

Here's the first photograph taken of mother and child together. Just ten hours old and he's already my model. Although I hate the flash and the automatic portrait setting, it's the best choice when there's just one chance to get it right and no time to experiment. And fortunately, his other set of grandparents are blocking the wall behind them, so there's no shadow...

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...

Tug-of-War

As Copper continues to grow so does his boundless energy and constant need for exercise. During the summer I would ride my bicycle around the block several times while he ran beside me on the leash. But with the cold weather coming on that no longer seems to be a viable option.

A few weeks ago, I joined a dog park at Bide-A-Wee, a local animal shelter and adoption center. As we approached the gate on our first visit, about ten dogs--all larger than Copper--came rushing toward us. For a few moments he hung back but then mixed right in, even with two towering Great Danes. Within fifteen minutes, he was circling the perimeter leading the pack.

This morning I brought my camera hoping to get some images of him stretching out in front. Today however, he spent most of the time playing tug-of-war with a large black lab mix. So I leaned in as close as I could.

For an instant he took his eye off the worn-out softball in order to strike a pose for me. Luckily, he was positioned on a 45-degree angle with the sun producing this dramatic Rembrandt light signified by the triangle of darkness covering his right eye.

Leaving

While I try not to use this blog to showcase my family, I couldn't resist posting this image. Here's my younger daughter, Jaclyn, (my baby) at the airport a few days ago, about to leave for her semester abroad in Barcelona. Excited yet clearly apprehensive, she clutched her wallet and her rollie in the middle of the terminal just after checking her other two bags.

When I raised my camera, she covered her face and screamed, "Noooo, Mom, it's so embarrassing!"

"Come on, let me take just a few."

"Ok," she sighed and looked away."

At first I thought this image so aptly epitomized the moment. But maybe, it just mirrors the mixed emotions of the photographer who happens to be her mother. Even though separating has gotten easier, I must keep reminding myself that she's twenty years old not twenty months. Which raises an interesting question about portraiture.

Where do we leave off and they begin? Are we portraying how they feel at a given moment or how we feel about them?

For me, it's a dance of give and take, just like any relationship.

Kilts

With the sun shining this morning, I finally set out for the St. Patricks Day parade in Hampton Bays. After a brutal winter, it was refreshing to see the sidewalks and parking lots brimming with activity. Green hats, green hair, green balloons, even green dogs bobbed by. Quickly, I pulled out my camera to capture all that Irish passing by. Visions of men in skirts however, still flashed in my mind's eye.

When the parade started, I set my shutter speed to 1/4 second to blur and therefore, accentuate the motion. Then they appeared, group after group in a range of plaids.
Running ahead, I pointed down toward their feet and the green line dividing the street. Afterwards, I selected the image above from the many I had taken. But I couldn't get one little girl out of my mind--the first of many I had seen dressed for the day. A Mexican girl named Zitlaya who complemented the green more beautifully than any other.

Smug

Before happening upon the Valentine in Flushing last week, there was another surprise, quite bizarre, that shocked my senses. Turning the corner off Main Street, I spotted the back of an open delivery truck filled with layers of pink.

"Ahhh, there's something I might be able to post for Valentine's Day," I thought moving closer, lifting my camera, adjusting the aperture to F8 to give me enough depth of field, yet not too much in order to emphasis the ripples in the foreground.

As the image came into focus, I realized it wasn't bolts of fabric or some such thing as I suspected, but layers of flesh---lifeless pigs piled one on top of another. My stomach churned breaking down the plateful of pork dumplings I had just ingested.

Then, men in white aprons appeared and started to unload them one at a time. As one butcher crossed the street with a hog draped over his shoulder, I recovered quickly enough to frame him in my viewfinder and press the shutter.

"Did you get it?" he asked smugly.