Cycles

The first step in taking good photographs is becoming your own best scout.
Here's what I call my signature image; the one I have printed on my business card. Taken seven years ago, I have never written about it although I've told the story of how I scouted it out many times.
That week in June, my younger daughter was suffering from stomach pain. After a day or so, we took her to the hospital and they finally diagnosed her with appendicitis. With surgery scheduled for the next morning, we went out for dinner passing this field just after the sun had dipped below the horizon when I witnessed this wonderful sight. Alas...I didn't have a camera with me.
The following evening after a successful operation, I rushed home collected my medium format film camera and returned there at the same time of evening. Standing in the mud in my white sandals, I captured this image now called Water Cycle.
For a poetic rendition of this image, visit 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!

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!

Obstacle

Earlier this week I was visiting a friend who lives in an old farmhouse in between some wide open fields in Southampton. When I was about to leave at around four o'clock, I looked out the window and was awestruck by the sky. Behind her house the sun was already sinking low, but shooting yet another sunset didn't interest me. So I swiveled around and peered out the front window where I saw the clear, cold light bouncing off a farm structure across the way.

Wrapping myself in my down coat, I pulled my hood on, headed outside, and trod across the frozen earth. When I got within shooting range, I peered through the lens and realized there was a wire fence between me and the image I had envisioned.

Hmmm....what to do? I thought for a few moments. I couldn't remove the obstacle, but perhaps I could use it to enhance the composition somehow. Zooming in closer, I threw the wire out-of-focus and moved to the left. I had created a frame within a frame and transformed the fence into an element that added interest to the image.

Reading Room

As we enter the dog days of August, the lazy days, when all I want to do is sit under a tree and read a book, I thought it fitting to post this image taken in Manhattan. Having just emerged from the Metropolitan Museum of Art where I saw the Picasso show with a friend, we headed into Central Park with our cameras.

Around 5:30pm, the sun skimmed low producing long shadows and dramatic afternoon light. While these conditions appeal to the naked eye, the high contrast can be quite blinding and difficult to render through the lens. Therefore, it's important to come up with an average light reading between the darker and lighter spots. While it's best to have a hand-held meter, you can compensate by bracketing, which means shooting the same image three times: first according to your automatic reading, then over and underexpose by one stop on the manual setting. Some digital cameras offer a compensation button which makes this simple. Later you can decide which one is most pleasing to your eye.

Strong light also requires a strong composition. As I moved closer and closer to the subject, I realized that I could use the limbs of the tree to create structure. In effect, they separate the light from the dark green and frame the girl off to the left in her own reading room.

Fencing

A few weeks ago, my daughter invited me to visit the Double D Bar Ranch, a haven for unwanted and abused farm animals in Manorville, about 20 minutes from my home where a friend of hers volunteers. With my grandson in tow, we wandered the grounds marveling at the variety of creatures harbored there: horses, goats, peacocks, pigs, turkeys, deer, a llama and for some reason, roosters galore.

While the array of animals presented a feast for the eyes, they were all sequestered behind bars or wire mesh blocking a clear view. Peering through my viewfinder, I was disappointed for a few moments until I realized that I could incorporate the fencing into the image. Once I made that decision, I photographed freely playing with the element originally perceived as an obstacle.
As we wound our way through the farm, we finally came upon three bulls. Choosing one, I zoomed in framing his features and fluffy ears between the bars. When I got home and scanned the images, I was pleased to discover that I had captured an interesting new collection of images that I now call fauna and that can be viewed on my online gallery.

More Snow

As February draws to a close, I was hoping to move onto more spring-like subjects, but when I sat down at my desk this morning and saw more snow out my window, mother nature dictated.

Here is an image I captured after the last snowstorm while walking around my tiny town tucked amidst "the Hamptons" on eastern Long Island. While most of the world envisions this area as a seaside resort, those of us who live here year-round experience small town living that in the off-season resembles any little place in the Northeast.
Aside from the snowy path canopied by trees trailing into the distance, what I like most about this picture is the rusty maple leaves on the right catching the midday sun and throwing the composition a little off-kilter. The long shadow from the telephone pole falling diagonally across the foreground also disrupts the symmetry of this typical scene drawing the eye in.

Inside Out

With the wind howling outside my window and snow blanketing my yard, I find myself sitting inside again writing about shooting during the winter. Another alternative to charging outside into the cold is to aim your camera at your window.

Windows provide a natural frame that we rarely notice since we’re usually focused on what we see outside. However, if we shift our perspective inside, something interesting may come into view that we hadn’t noticed before.
One of the favorite features of my house is the grids set inside the casement windows. During a storm, they contain the chaos outside calling attention to patterns forming on the glass and how the light varies from one square to another.
To capture this image, I picked up my Canon Rebel setting the zoom lens to about 35 mm – the “normal” focal length for my digital camera. Then I stood far enough away from the window so that the grid filled the frame.
Next, I flipped the dial to shutter speed priority with a setting of 1/30 of a second – the slowest speed that I can hand-hold without shaking. It’s suggested that a tripod be used when shooting at longer intervals than 1/60 of a second.
In my opinion, however, that choice depends on the steadiness of the photographer. And most important, the flash must be turned off so the image isn’t washed out and the nuance of natural light shines through.