… along Route 50 west of Ely, Nevada.
… along Route 50 west of Ely, Nevada.
… I stood atop Devil’s Tower.
… over Wilkins, Nevada, my ancestral homeland.
… really? I’ve passed this artificial tree next to Route 233 in Nevada four of the past five springs. Each time, more has been added to it.
This is what they mean when they say art therapy. . . right?
“We like companionship, see, but we can’t stand to be around people for very long. So we go get ourselves lost, come back for a while, then get the hell out again.” – John Krakauer
Last spring, a close friend expressed growing stress and anxiety over an undertaking yet to come. I asked her to write her stress and anxiety on a small, white card and sign it. I put the card in my wallet. A few weeks later, at semester’s end, I drove to the Sun Tunnels in northwestern Utah. I buried the card there. My friend completed her undertaking brilliantly.
… how I sometimes feel as time passes.
Command me to be well
Church of Transfiguration, Buffalo, New York
… boulders of volcanic rock that have fallen from the minette dike emanating from Shiprock, an 1,800-foot-high volcanic plug in northwestern New Mexico.
A few weeks ago, I left my university and drove 2,200 miles to the end of the road. There I pondered enlightenment. I found little solace, so I drove 2,200 miles back to my university.
Took me a month to get around to editing these pictures – clearly, I do not know the…drill.
Eastern State Penitentiary, Philadelphia
I felt the solemnity of the location, the near-sacred aura of Ground Zero, coupled with the somewhat lacy reflections of nearby buildings juxtaposed with the strong lines of the memorial structure was poorly served by a riot of tourist color. The gathered crowds retreat into the background when rendered in black and white, while the names stand starkly front and center.
I’m glad to have shot this after Moab. I feel I did it much more justice than I might have otherwise.
One of the classic shots in the Palouse (eastern Washington’s grain region) is color and shadow from the top of Steptoe Butte. Rather than explore the shades of green and/or brown, I chose to explore the textural contrasts and patterns in this scene.
Faux Falls is just outside Moab, UT. It’s “Faux” because the water is pumped from an adjacent canyon through a ridge to move the water closer to town, cascading down into a lake.
During the Moab Photography Symposium I shot Faux Falls on two separate occasions, once coming down on the falls from above, once from below. Acutely aware of some errors (er, suboptimal decisions) in the first session, I set out to create a better image during the second. Part of that was seeing in black & white, part framing, part clearing excess material from the image field itself. I’m happy with the result, at least for now.
I should point out that during this second shooting session, I lost a lens step-up ring into the stream and was soaked to halfway between my ankles and knees. At least I didn’t hurt myself. That was a different shoot :-).
I had a wonderful experience during a weeklong workshop and symposium (the Moab Photography Symposium) in early May. Among the realizations was remembering how much I loved working in Black & White as a kid (much easier to process and print in black & white when you are using film). In conjunction with starting to print my own work, I am re-exploring monochromicity. The next few days will bring samples.
Bodie is a California State Historic Park in the Eastern Sierra, south of Bridgeport and north of Lee Vining. The ghost town has been a state park since 1962 and a national historic landmark since 1961.
A short stop in Bodie in 2014 began my adult, digital, photography as art period. I had about 45 minutes in the middle of the day and shot deliberately for black and white, using the harsh light in an attempt to evoke stark emptiness. Out of less than 50 exposures (most of them bracketed sets of three to capture the total dynamic range available), I got three or four of my better images. It’s taken nearly three years since then to solidify my sense of my photography as art, but the Terrific Trio workshop before the Moab Photography Symposium (plus one other presenter during the Symposium itself) have managed to do that.