Serenity

No matter how long I live near the water, I still need to remind myself that even in the off-season, when the temperature starts to dip, I can jump in my car and in ten minutes I'll be where the water meets the sky, where there's some serenity for me and plenty for you too. 

In fact if you visit my other blog, Recovery Thru My Lens, you'll read the same words but find another view of this scene. I couldn't chose between the two, so I posted one on each site. Let me know which one you prefer...

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!