Happy New Year

It's almost three years since I started this blog.
And I would like to thank you for following me here.
I've enjoyed sharing my photographic experiences with
you all. In the meantime, I have started another site,
Recovery Thru My Lens,
connecting my imagery with my more personal journey.
As a result, I'm not posting as often here. So it is
with a heavy heart that I've decided to discontinue
this site and direct my creative energy to
just one blog. I hope you will join
me there on Wordpress.ccm.

Happy New Year!

Meryl

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.

Post-Thanksgiving

Readers, I have been remiss. Here's my tribute to Thanksgiving rather late this year. I got so wrapped up in my preparations, I simply forgot, but I hope you enjoy this one---especially the little guy bent over in the front, rather poultry-like. The shallow depth of field I used here seems to emphasize his diminutive stature...don't you think?

Still Sandy

On Sunday, we were finally allowed access to the Roger's Beach in Westhampton after the hurricane. Of course, I grabbed my camera and headed down there. What I found, was much different that I expected. The beach was still sandy, wider than before, not narrower. But there were these rivers of water running through it. I decided that the best way to depict that impression was to shoot right up the river. In terms of composition, the angle of view can make all the difference. To see another viewpoint, go to my other blog, 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.

Divide

Here's yet another of my classic beachscapes that I'm writing about for the first time. Like the others, it was taken just after sunset---but at Cupsogue Beach County Park at the end of Weshampton Dunes. Notice how the red fence stands out against the green grass and blue sky. Perfect complements further enriched by the last few moments of twilight. 

It's rare to find a moment of universal harmony like this---the reason why it seems to be a perennial favorite. I've saved it for the last month of summer so I can savor it through the end of the season....always a bit melancholy no matter how long I've lived here on the East End.

Go to my other blog, Recovery Thru The Lens, to read a more personal rendition of this image.

Wonderland

Sorry to have missed a week of posting here. Here's one of my classic images taken several years back that I usually call Pink Sound but today I'm calling it Wonderland as a tribute to the East End where I've lived for almost 25 years.

As a photographer, I'm so grateful to this part of the world for its breathtaking beaches, intricate land formations and most of all, wonderful light. Sometimes I long for the city streets where there's so much action and so many faces to feast on, but then I picture images like this and remember why I'm here.

To read a more personal take on this image, visit Recovery Thru My Lens.

Signs

This summer many of my posts seem to revolve around the weather. Maybe it's because it's been so unusual, so volatile this year. Maybe it has to do with climate change or our unpredictable economy, but most likely it has to do with my changing perspective.
Since creating my newest blog, Recovery Thru My Lens, I've grown even more connected to the natural world that has always provided so much to see. But now I'm seeing it in a more personal way as signs of what's to come.
While attending a meeting during a torrential storm a few nights ago, there was an eerie yellow light filling the doorway during the break.
"Look, it's a rainbow," someone shrieked.
And indeed, there it was arching over the church next door.
In the middle of a very stressful week, it was the sign I needed most.
To see a more poetic rendition go to Renew...

Magic

No matter how long I take photographs, it's magic never ceases to amaze me. When I finally succumbed and bought a digital SLR camera in 2008, I started to experiment with it by photographing the sky. At that time, I was envisioning a collage about climate change that would require many small images; so I thought it was a perfect application for the camera which offered endless frames, easily deleted unlike the more cumbersome, expensive film process.

That project has not yet materialized, however four years later, I have rediscovered this series and they are resonating with me much more now than when I originally created them. It reminds me that when we feel the urge to photograph something, we must take action even if we're not quite sure why we're doing it or where it might lead. 

So far, two of these images have inspired me emotionally on my more personal blog, Recovery Thru My Lens. Take a look at Help and Bliss to see how....

Island

On a recent trip to the North Fork just before Orient, I noticed this island floating in the Long Island Sound. Since I've been surrounded by water here on the East End for the last 20+ years, it takes something remarkable for me to shoot an image like this these days.

Amidst all the development taking place here, I was struck by the emptiness of this stretch of sea, sand and sky. It seemed that this could be an island floating almost anywhere in the world; in the Caribbean, the Mediterranean or even off the coast of Africa or in the South Pacific---although the sea might not be as calm. And because it's reminiscent of a simpler time, I transferred it to black and white with a hint of amber for nostalia...
For a poetic rendition of this image, visit Recovery Thru My Lens!

Imperfect

On a drizzly spring day a few weeks ago, I was fortunate to be invited for lunch at my friend Ellen's home. It's always a treat to receive that particular invitation because Ellen is a private chef. Spontaneously, she can throw together a meal from whatever she finds in her fridge and garden that's more scrumptous than any restaurant around.

Beyond the wonderful fish chowder and deer tongue lettuce sprinkled with chive flowers, I was delighted by what lay on the table. Longing to photograph the two pears bathed in natural light, I chided myself for not bringing my camera. But there, beside my napkin lay my iPhone. Dare I stoop to that level, become just another iPhone shooter.
You have no choice, I told myself pressing the silly "app." Although one pear is marred, the rooster's head is cut off and the file is half the size of my Canon's digital capability, I couldn't get this image out of my head. To read a more lyrical rendition of this post, 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.

Lavender

Each Mother's Day, we go to the North Fork to buy plants for the garden like so many Long Islanders. But this year there was a special treat. Lunch at the Tea Time Cottage in Jamesport where it's all about lavender. Thriving everywhere, the fragrant herb abounds in the gardens, the greenhouse and inside as well. It's in your tea, your whipped cream, your soup, your chicken wrap, you name it. They also sell a line of lavender soaps and lotions that smell divine.

Although it was midday, I challenged myself by attempting to photograph the brightly illuminated place including the sign near the road that resided in deep shade. There must have been about a 3 or maybe 4-stop difference between the two. I accomplished this image by overexposing by 1/3 stop and brightening the sign--as well as the porch--quite a bit in Photoshop. Rather contrasty for my taste, but fitting for the warm, cheerful day! 

Irony

On the heels of my quintessential cherry tree image, I thought this would be an interesting follow-up. Each spring I love the sight of petals dropped like confetti on lawns and roadways; and each spring I try to find a way to photograph these carpets of color. A few weeks ago, I made an attempt with the addition of my Shadow.
Last weekend on my way to my daughter's house, I noticed this swath of pink beside the road and pulled over. Shooting from above, they appeared like unremarkable specks with no real perspective. However when I sunk down to my heels, I found something more compelling.
A first glance it was just a rusty drain; but the more I looked the more I liked the irony it presented. Here were these beautiful bits of nature adorning the sewer made by man that would eventually suck them in.

It's these surprises, these counterpoints that can make an image more meaningful. For a more lyrical rendition of my thoughts regarding this image checkout my other blog, Recovery Thru My Lens.

Cherry

Most photographers avoid midday light at all costs. They shoot either early in the morning or late in the afternoon when the sun is low in the sky, skimming the earth creating dramatic light and long shadows. Between 11 am and 1pm, the sun shines directly down producing dark circles under the eyes and extreme contrast everywhere else. 

However, on occasion it can work to your advantage with the right subject. Here's one of my favorite images taken on the North Fork of Long Island in a place called New Suffolk. One May day I was driving around this charming area scouting for locations when I spotted this vintage truck protected by a canopy of pink. Enchanted, I pulled over and grabbed my medium-format camera (with film). When I stood before the scene, the lacy shadows took me by surprise turning a pretty picture into an interesting one.

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?