Seeking Snowy
This month has been most productive as far as the Muses effecting change in my photographic soul (meaning, orienting and grounding my soul to those things most photographically meaningful). I have used the current ornithology phenomenon of the rare appearance of the Snowy Owl this far south of the Arctic Circle, to be the impetus for me to brave the elements and start honing my skills as a photographer.
The Snowy Owl was first witnessed by me two weeks ago at Sachuest Point, RI. I had missed the most recent invasion of the Snowy Owl this far south two years ago, and I was determined not to miss it again. While I did catch this elusive emigre from the Polar regions when I visited Sachuest Point (a National Wildlife Refuge), this wary bird was perched on a rocky islet about 400 feet offshore, making a photo of any significance moot.
I was finally able to catch this elusive creature further up Narragansett Bay at a small promontory on the western shores of the Bay just south of Providence, where the Save The Bay (nonprofit) property is located.
The encounter of this owl tests the patience of mortal men (probably a survival tactic of the owl) since it literally would sit for an hour at a time in one place. I waited it out and was able to capture the currently posted photos, which in and of themselves are quite ordinary and lacking in sharpness. What the photos are not lacking in is “gesture”, which as Jay Maisel notes is a critical element of any photo worthy of print.
The first photo was taken with a Canon 5 DS, EF100-400mm f/4.5-5.6L IS II USM @ 278mm, f/11, 1/640″, ISO 250, post processed with DxO Optics Pro 11, and Nik Color Efex Pro. The owl was probably just fluffing its feathers after quite a spell of inactivity.
The second photo was taken with a Canon 5 DS, EF100-400mm f/4.5-5.6L IS II USM @ 278mm, f/11, 1/640″, ISO 250, and post processed with DxO Optics Pro 11, and Nik Silver Efex Pro.
Picking Apples
The fall months of October and November have come and gone without my one desire being met of capturing the Milky Way during one of the new moons during those months. I’m beginning to realize that I must, indeed, plan in detail and in advance to get local shots (i.e., in Rhode Island) with local foreground objects (like light houses) in these Milky Way dreams.
I had tried to substitute for the above lack of opportunities by getting to know my State of Rhode Island better. I chose the northern part of the State since it is one I do not know and one which has remained somewhat resistant to modern changes. This part of Rhode Island is definitely historical and has beautiful rolling country sides of farms and orchards, with small villages and quaint farmhouses. There are many apple orchards and this currently posted shot of a farmhouse sits among one of these orchards.
The shot was taken on a windy, coolish fall day in the afternoon with the low angled sun behind me. The house was situated on one of the corners of a “busy” intersection. There definitely was not much traffic, but it still required being aware and off the road when traffic did show up. I parked at an apple orchard barn and asked the person there if I could park and shoot around the area (not going on the property, but simply shooting from the roadside). He stated there would be no problem. I had taken several hand held shots, but decided I’d like to use my tripod to make use of some of my neutral density filters to diminish the bright light of the angled sun. Before I could fully extend my tripod legs, the gentleman who previously agreed to let me shoot freely, now stated he did not want me shooting with my tripod because the owner of the house I was shooting might not like it (the owner was not on good terms with the gentleman with whom I was talking). I stated I understood, packed up my gear and moved on.
What the above experience has reinforced in me is that shooting photography is like picking apples. There are apples which you are allowed to pick and there are apple which the grower does not want you to pick. Furthermore, in the wider scope of photography, we have to pick and choose what apples to pick to make the best pie (aka photograph).
The above photo was taken with a Canon 5 DS, EF24-105mm @ 45mm, f/4L IS USM lens, f/10, 1/250″, 160 ISO, using DxO Optics Pro 11 in post processing, in addition to Adobe Camera Raw, PS CC (2018), a gradient map and Nik Color Efex Pro.
Window into the Soul
With the hope of not creating a blog on philosophy, I will continue to lay out my basic beliefs and apparent orientation relating to photography. An extremely fundamental component of what drew me to want to take “pictures” was my hope of making the transcendent immanent; in other words, taking those passing moments of time and making them permanent.
The photo on the right is one of me captured by a good friend at a time in my life when all the disparate forces were coming together for me and I knew I was on the right path to fulfilling my destiny. Those moments are rare, for sure. But there are abundantly rare moments occurring all the time (an oxymoron?) if only we were perceptive to see them, and even more blessed to catch them as a photographic representation. This is what draws me to take photographs. It is analogous to what Eddie Tapp calls the “pocket of light” when he speaks and explains what seeing the light is all about; in a wider sense, it also is analogous to the so called “golden hour” of light during the day. But it is only analogous, but not the window into the soul as I would see it. Some may say that it is the window, simply because if the window does not have the right light the soul will not be seen. I am always searching for both the window and the pocket, after all this is photography and not philosophy.
Even though the self photo on the right was not taken by me, it was crafted by me to bring out this elusive phenomenon of light and soul. There are two selves because of the interplay of light and darkness both in the science and the art of photography. I, obviously, will have more to say on my success or lack there of in capturing this window.
Photography as Visual Absconding
Ever since I took up photography I always felt a little uneasy and guilty when taking pictures. As if I were intruding on whatever was happening, especially when people were present. The act of capturing a scene was not part of the normal flow of life. It seemed that artists with their palettes became part of the scene simply by remaining within it even though they were not a subject on their own canvas. This feeling has persisted and in some ways has hindered my own style and techniques.
To become a better photographer technique-wise, I will have to learn to steel myself in order to steal a moment of time from a gamut of moving events. I must learn to abscond, taking that intangibly captured light in my camera and telling myself it is now mine, all the while knowing it truly is not.
Recent Comments