gently upon a soul

This past weekend, I visited Eastern State Penitentiary in Philadelphia.  Many photographers have worked this ruin/museum and produced amazing images, inspiring me to visit a local place I have not seen in the 14 years I’ve lived here.  I’ve also started experimenting more with dramatic light and knew this site would be challenging and offer a good exercise.  I never expected to come away so excited about the images I captured on that day… so excited to photograph stills without anything living in them, so excited that I’m planning to return and to look for additional sites, my awareness now keen to develop a new project.

I have not been able to put into words yet what it is about making these images that captures me so.  But it’s not about gloom and doom as much as it’s about the light, about illumination, opportunity, spirituality, the connection to the good in the world… an odd paradox for a prison.  I suppose I’ll have to think about this.  But the ray of light in this image reminds me of God rays coming through a cloudy sky laying their gentle beams of light upon the earth… here the single beam laying its hand gently upon a soul.

For more images from this day, visit the New Work gallery on my website: Rhoda Maurer Photography at Photoshelter.com

hot papaya

With tomorrow’s solstice and the official beginning of summer, I thought I would post this image of a relatively new coneflower introduced by my friends at Plants Nouveau, Echinacea ‘Hot Papaya’.  I found it blooming last night in the entrance garden of the Scott Arboretum.  And although I took the typical portrait shot with as much detail as my 105mm macro lens could capture at f/45, I quickly found the sultry petals luring me in for a closer look.  So I recomposed and found f/7.1 to capture enough detail that you can still infer it’s a flower, yet with a shallow enough depth of field to soften the flow… an image more reflective of the plant’s name!

spring in a parking lot

After spending much of my time in my home garden this spring cultivating new ground for a vegetable garden and building a protective fence of harvested bamboo from the edge of the property, I am getting back to posting new images taken this spring. Although it doesn’t feel much like spring today in Pennsylvania with temperatures reaching 91F today.  But the tomatoes are enjoying the heat and I am hoping for a nice crop of heirlooms later this summer.

I’ve seen several posts from fellow photographers on the west coast of dogwoods in bloom, so I thought I might also post a dogwood I found this spring, Cornus florida ‘Cherokee Chief’ in a parking lot.  The amazing red bracts caught my attention from over 200ft away as they popped against the fresh green lawn on the hill behind it.  This was one of those moments when I know I’ve found something special. Maybe not a spectacular image, but something that resonates with my creative spirit that will influence my life and my art.

time for slow

I was reminded again today to slow down… not by a person, but by nature herself.  An “ice event” they call these storms, causing headaches for commuters who have to drive or walk to work.  I’m one of those walkers most every day with a mile long walk to work and then back home again; a slower mode of transportation that allows me valuable creative time.  I often think of photographic opportunities, or new subject matter during these walks. One of those musings reminded me to visit a site along the Crum Creek I photographed last year in February.  So I ventured out last Sunday into the first sun we’ve had in what seems like a month.  Lots of kids and their families were enjoying some sledding on the hill of the Holly Collection slope.  But I kept my distance taking the less traveled route along the shore of the creek, sharing some footsteps with cross-country skiers from earlier in the day.  Snow covered canes of invasive-exotic weeds that line the creek in the sunnier locations gave me less than sure footing as I plunged hip deep into the snow… the joyous cry of happily airborne sledders in the distance.  But this solitude and slow snowy walk allowed me time to watch, to watch the light, to watch the patterns, and to sense the beauty of the day.  Time didn’t matter and for a moment I was drawn back to the sand dunes of Death Valley.  Yes, sand dunes of one of the hottest places in North America on a snowy January day.  The mounds of snow along the creek and the play of light over them from the forest of beech, maple and hemlock reminded me of lessons learned from watching the light in the desert.

inspirations

Today I am appreciating friends of mine made during the Death Valley Workshop with Bruce Barnbaum, Jack Dykinga and Jay Dusard last October.  We are collaborating on a print share among our small group of friends and I am seeing some of their work from the workshop for the first time this week.  I am inspired by their images.  We all traveled the same roads, visited the same sights, and yet all came back with very different images.  Artist bring themselves to their image making, and these photographers are artists.  As David DuChemin recently commented on Twitter, “Vision comes from shooting from the heart, from making images more about how you feel than what you see.”

Mark Waits http://www.markwaitsphotography.com/

Chuck Kimmerle http://www.chuckkimmerle.com/

Alexenander Ehhalt http://www.alexander-ehhalt.com/content/index_ger.html

Eric Black http://www.ericpeterblackimages.com/EPB_Images/Welcome.html

Photo above: one of the ancient bristlecone pines in the Schulman Grove at sunset

looking again

Over and over again I am surprised at what I learn during the editing process.  I see new possibilities and missed opportunities that I’ll hopefully see more clearly next time I’m in the field.  So as much work as going through your images is… and it certainly is a lot of work for me since I don’t usually have large blocks of time to devote to the digital darkroom, organizing, processing and exporting… the self critique is invaluable to my education as a photographer.  I see how I framed the original image and can still see how I might have framed it differently, remembering the light and other elements I intentionally removed from the frame.  I can often still feel the temperature, the wind and sounds at the time I pressed the shutter.  Revisiting and looking again brings back those memories, often focusing my intent, but timing is everything for me.  I need to be away from the images and the experiences just long enough so the experience does not prejudice my ranking of those images in the grander scheme of my work.

Image of pine forest rebirth in Yosemite National Park, November 2010

December

With the winter solstice, full moon, lunar eclipse last night, and a cold running through the office… no wonder I’m feeling under the weather today.  Sorry I didn’t get any photographs of the big event, but it was amazing to see none the less.  I hope you too woke up long enough to witness one of nature’s wonders last night.  I’m hoping we get some snowfall soon so I’m able to add to my winter images… it’s harder to find exciting material to photograph in the ‘brown’ of winter in Pennsylvania.  December has always been the hardest month for me to be inspired by the season… no ice, no water, always overcast, no contrasts… just shades of brown.

Yes, the mahonia are in bloom and some of the other winter bloomers are hoping for warmer days and sunshine.  But as a photographer, this is the time of year I find new trees, new forms and dances among the bare branches.  I add them to my mental database, watch and ponder the best conditions to capture their grace.  The only thing keeping me inside lately is the strong winds we’ve had almost every day this month.  But with the shortest day of the year now behind us, we have longer days, brighter light and maybe a little snow to look forward to for the rest of the winter.  December is restorative…  time to enjoy the quietness of this time of year and let the creative process slow and wander.  For it’s during these times we can more easily reflect and embrace what is truly important to each of us as human beings and as artists.

being a photographer

I am thinking tonight about how lucky we all are to have our sight.  Photographers use more than just their physical sight to “see” a photograph.  But tonight I am thinking about this because my father is having eye surgery Tuesday to correct a blown retina after cataract surgery.  A visual artist who may or may not get his full sight back.

It takes a lot of emotional courage to be an artist. Remembering this, I picked up a favorite book again tonight, Art & Fear: Observations on the Perils (and Rewards) of Artmaking by David Bayles and Ted Orland, and found this quote to share… “In the ideal – that is to say, real – artist, fears not only continue to exist, they exist side by side with the desires that complement them, perhaps drive them, certainly feed them.  Naive passion, which promotes work done in ignorance of obstacles, becomes – with courage – informed passion, which promotes work done in full acceptance of those obstacles.”

The photo above is of aspen trees on the shore of Grant Lake in the Eastern Sierras. Clicking the thumbnail will bring up a larger image for closer viewing.

editing skills

I was going through my images from the trip west ranking them for processing and realized the best images are from when I was allowing myself to trust what I saw rather than trying to make an image of something I thought might be interesting.  I guess this is one of the lessons of editing, a task I rather dislike but am beginning to value.  I’ve certainly taken images and not known how to process them until later; I needed some additional digital darkroom skills. But I’ve come to realize that if I keep my mind open during the editing process, and take time to look at past images, patterns and concepts appear and sometimes I see something I couldn’t quite understand earlier.  What continues to surprise me is that I need some time away from the actual image making in the field to be able to really edit well.

The image of the cottonwood above is from Bishop, CA when I was scouting for petroglyphs before sunset.  But this tree and its pattern caught my attention and I’m glad I stopped to photograph it!  Be certain to click on the image above to view it larger.  This blog template does not allow very large thumbnails.

reflections

Reflections… a good metaphor for the writing I’ve been working on lately and for thinking about how photography fits into life!  I’ve been organizing images from my trip west and realized just how many panorama and reflection images I have.  But this has to be one of my favorite of the reflections… the Merced River in Yosemite National Park.  Enjoy!

Image capture with Nikon D700 camera and 70-200mm f/2.8G ED VRII AF-S Nikkor Zoomm Lens