Doing What's Natural

Racing the sunrise this morning, literally.  Running down the trail while trying to get the camera mounted on the tripod.  Couldn't manage to get it centered in the head correctly, so I stopped and did it right.  Fired off a few shots of civil twilight hitting the clouds (view one here) just in case I missed the action when I got up the hill.  Threw the rig over my shoulder and continued the sprint.  I don't run much.  Recently joked that the only reason for an adult to run is from the cops.  Now look at me.  Victim of poor planning.  Got up early enough, but didn't pack anything the night before.  Completely out of practice.  But the running actually felt good, until the hill.  Then I started thinking about taking pictures of the frost melting off the stones in the trail because I was going to be face down soon, waiting on Search and Rescue.  Just a bit of drama in the morning, though, blood moving kept the fingers pink and the boots warm.  This is what I'm meant to do.  Get outside to experience me experiencing the natural world.  Wish it paid the rent, though.

Got up the hill, found my spot and started gunning through the film (digital memory just sounds wierd).  I walked through this local Natural Area a few weeks ago and got an idea the sun would be just about right this time of year for some early morning pictures. The shot above taught me the real importance of tripods... you can keep shooting while catching your breath.  Felt good to be outside shooting, again.  Thankfully the sunrise is pretty late, don't think I could handle a 3am start. There's an interesting feature right behind where I'm taking this shot.  In the next few days you'll be able to see what I think is worth runnning uphill in 15 degree weather to capture.  Funny thing, on the walk back down, I met a cop out to see if the report of a huge buck was true.  He asked me to stay on the trail.  I fought the urge to run.

Portfolio Updates

In the process of organizing my Zenfolio galleries, I put together this group of my favourite images.  Clicking through will take you to Zenfolio where you can find more image galleries and buy prints if you are so inclined.  Enjoy.

These Little Bug Blues

I'm currently working on a project to catalogue a library of insects.  Thousands of little arthropods called  Curculionidae something or other.  What do you want... Latin?  I went to art school, you know that.  I'm lucky I can spell my name in my native language.

This little guy above is something I found in a random box of assorted critters all of which are unidentififed and, as I understand it, unidentifiable in their current condition.  A little tag which we translated to Eastern Criscuma region of Paraguay was pinned beneath.  The googles told me that the Eastern Criscuma region of Paraguay is probably Brazil.  The Google map of Paraguay contains surprisingly little detail, in comparison to the map of the ocean floor.  Maybe Google hasn't found Paraguay, or Paraguay is very good at keeping secrets.
Shiny green thing, keep on shining.
I find it completely impossible not to anthropomorphize a bit.  Imagine walking along trying to be the best little green thing on the circuit, just cruising for a little something to nibble and maybe some romance and all of a sudden you're in a jar filled with sodium cyanide only to end up with a pin through your exo fixed to a box in a little room far from anything that will ever benefit from your existence.  (I'm not preaching anti-anything, or pro-something.  So, don't go too far with this scenario, empathy is good but only to a point.)  One little bug picture and everybody gets a little Kafka shiver.

I'm interested in the inception of the instinct to collect a specimen only to abandon it later.  By extension, the instinct to react to an idea of artistic impulse only to let it flounder on it's own and eventually dissipate like a mustard burp.  Ideas don't have to die in a box, I suppose.  Maybe that's the point of this post.  Seems a fitting epitaph to our cyan adventurer above.

A tiny green idea floats insouciantly along, eventually to become a victim of understanding.

Hook & Moore Glade Moonrise

During the holiday break, I took a break.  Long story short:  I'm back, let's move on.

It's been a long time getting back into my  work pattern and coming to a complete halt for two weeks was exactly what I needed.  The day after Christmas I went out on a hike in a local Nature Area to check it out and maybe find some places to make images.  Great hike.  Not very cold, shallow snow, minimal mud, and not another person around.  As far as the images... a lot of maybe's, really depends on the right sky to give them life.  So, I'm holding on to the ideas for late spring to see how they germinate.

All afternoon the moon was sneaking over the prairie in a playful hike'n'seek fashion, teasing the sun and the photographer alike.  The above image isn't from the hike.  It's from the drive home.  The hogbacks and the small rolling hills I was hiking just weren't coming together for me.  I saw the moon in one way and the hills in another and there just wasn't a composition or compositing technique that was gonna make them come together to meet the picture in my head.  Kind of the problem with a good imagination.

So, I made some snapshots and kept walking.  Eventually getting back to the Jeep cranking the Mahler and heading home.  The playful moon wasn't done though, and started peaking under the drip cap kinda tugging at my shirt.  I handled it calmly, though.  Knowing full well I needed the D3 to get the right files, I watched the hogbacks and just rolled along until I found it.  When I got home I checked the moon phase calendar (full on the 31st) and planned to return in a few days.  Then checked the weather (snow over the 30-31st) and rescheduled for the following evening.

The image above is made from ten separate image files.  Tonemapped and composited to construct the image.  All ten images were made from the same spot and collected in a five minute period.  Why?  Well, one good exposure of this scene would provide only the expansion or compression of whichever lens I chose.  In my head the grand open landscape is a giant playground (14mm), but the moon is huge and giving me a great tug of war for my attention (200mm).  Only one answer for me... HDR technique for lovely glowing late afternoon cold sunlight, HDR for the subtlety of the moon (& essential for matching the colour and luminosity in the sky), then a well executed composite.  Just enough weight in the foreground to keep the eye bouncing around, like a giddy playmate.

I'm off to work on another project, which doesn't require any imagination.  But that doesn't preclude the lack of playfulness, so I'll have some images from that shoot to post soon enough.

Thanks for checking in...