Red Letter Days - A New Series

From the beginning Beyond the Campfire has concentrated on photography as was its intent, but I also wanted it to become a combination outdoor adventure / photography blog.  The adventure part has become the lesser of the two and somewhat in my defense for various reasons I just don’t get out as much as I used to.

As I have taken time away from the blogging world I’ve been able to reflect on seasons past, friends and special moments and began to realize that collectively I have garnered many Red-Letter days through the years. Some years ago before I understood what blogging was all about I built a website called ‘Oklahoma Backcountry’. It no longer exists, but I still have copies of the adventure stories I shared through its venue.

As I thought about how to proceed with Beyond the Campfire I realized there was a treasure trove of  red letter days many of them focused around friends some of whom are no longer with us. I am so glad I put into writing those stories for as I re-read through many of them I was taken back to possibly some of the best days I can remember.

So starting this month, I will be re-sharing those old stories along with new ones to try and balance the adventure portion of Beyond the Campfire against the photography aspect of the blog. A spattering of images, snap shots really, taken during those amazing days will be included. None of them warrant any kind of quality merit, but in their own way they are priceless keep sakes of those bygone days and serve to accent just how important they were.

Please share with me memories from the past as I begin this amazing discovery of renewal.

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Zippo Lighter Moments

It is a subtle noise, more of a clink and less of a clunk, but distinctive and recognizable well beyond what its simple action might otherwise dictate. A simple flicking of the shiny cover with an upward motion of the thumb activates the signature sound; clink, then a pause followed by a flick-zip that generates a stream of sparks to ignite the flame whose lighter fluid aroma drifts with the wind. 

 

I hadn’t heard the clink of a Zippo lighter for many years until recently, and when I did I immediately knew what it was. Upon its activation I was in a moment taken back to another time more years ago than I care to admit to. My mind jumped from scene to scene as the ghost reels of times past flickered across the faded screen stretched across my imagination. Each scene played out in perfect harmony as the sound of that old Zippo lighter stamped into existence dormant long-to-come moments waiting for a trigger to resurrect them back to life.

 

I can’t rightly say when I first heard a Zippo lighter sound but I can remember clearly the cold air and pipe tobacco aroma associated with the use of one. My old friend Ralph as he was accustomed to doing, would flick his lighter, fire it up, and light his pipe blowing short puffs of smoke until the bowl would glow crimson red. Then he would again clink it closed.  The sweet fragrance of the pipe tobacco would softly fill the air.  

I didn’t know it at the time but those obscure moments became set in my mind by the actions and sound of him using that old Zippo. If I recall correctly he inherited the lighter from his dad so it already had a long history to it and by default those moments became part of my history. He used the pipe and the Zippo just about every place he managed to find himself, but my memories are locked more onto the hunting and fishing adventures we shared together. You see Ralph was somewhat, maybe even considerably older than the rest of us, a mentor of sorts although he would never have admitted to it. In spite of his age we the younger had a hard time keeping up with him.  

It didn’t matter how cold it was, if there was a duck hunt to be had, he’d be there. Those were the most memorable Zippo moments. We would arrive at our destination and as we scurried around trying to get rigged, he would calmly repack his pipe, flick the lighter open and fire it off. I can hear it now as clearly as then…clink…zip...puff and puff, the blue smoke wafting in the winter pre-dawn air set aglow by star light. He did it so often we hardly paid attention to it…then. It was just part of what he did and we got used to it. 

Sharing a canoe with Ralph was a fine pleasure that all of us relished. His pipe and Zippo lighter were always there for every fishing trip. What greater joy could there be than to see the sky glow before daybreak, hear the whine of fishing line as it twirled toward a rendezvous with a summer morning bass, and hear his Zippo clink and the subtle puffing of a lit pipe. Everything seemed to fit perfectly in sync; time, place, emotion, and moment. Our times together in a canoe were the best of times and when we were able to combine that pastime with a camping trip, they became the better of times. A hypnotic campfire that spoke of times past, old adventure stories told and retold, hilarious and near disastrous at times brought us to joyous tears. Then without fanfare almost unheard in the background against the clutter of the evening chatter there would come that clink…followed by the scent of pipe tobacco. 

Sometimes he would be in the middle of telling a story when he’d light up. The clink became a pause and each pause added to the impact of the telling part. He’d hold the pipe in one hand and wave it with some kind of animated gesturing as he elaborated on his story. Sometimes he’d simply let the pipe hang from one side of his jaw and then he would talk through it. His stories would often run a long time, he could take a two minute story and turn it into a full length adventure, and inevitably his pipe would go out…then we’d hear another clink, another pause as he reignited the tobacco...then the story continued.

We enjoyed many rendezvous’ across years of building a reserve of memories that served us well. As Ralph aged he approached another rendezvous with life that collided with Multiple Myloma. In spite of his condition he continued to fish and get out as much as he could until he could no longer do so. His Zippo and pipe were there with him along the way, and when he passed he left behind a legacy of living that words can never fully define.  

What I understand now that I did not then, is that we need to have those Zippo Lighter moments for no other reason than to lock into place what it means to be a friend. Even though he was not actively trying to teach such admirable traits, he did manage to get the point across to us without even knowing it. Yet, Ralph was more than a friend, more than a mentor he was a maker of timeless memories and the clink of that old lighter became the stamp of approval that solidified the texture and flavor of those adventures.   

 

I harbor few regrets, but when I recently heard again the clink of a Zippo lighter, I realized that my life since Ralph left us has exhibited far too few of those moments. I do treasure the small number that were made and can only hope that a simple sound coming from a classic lighter will stir within me not only more self awareness but a greater desire to become a maker of timeless memories. And even though I do not smoke, I purchased a shiny new Zippo lighter today. On those melancholy days when my mind is set adrift and I forget why I enjoyed going on those adventures, I’ll flick the lid to hear that clink and use it as a reminder.

 

Keith

 

Taking some time off

I will be taking some time off from the blogging world...around a month or so, but I'll be back sometime in late November...See ya then!

Thanx...

Keith

Creating Photographs From the Heart

(Sorry...I just haven't taken time to post anything new...so here's a repost from a couple years ago.)

A number of years had passed since I last watched that movie, but recently I sat through another viewing and remembered it being as entertaining and revealing as the first time. Some of you may have seen it...Mr. Holland's Opus...a story about a musician who temporarily falls back on his teaching degree until he can start composing his great American Symphony full time. He ends up teaching for 30 years and during that time is transformed and changes the lives of hundreds of students. One of those students was a young lady who struggled with learning how to play the clarinet...hard as she tried...she just could not grasp what it took to master that instrument. Then one day Mr. Holland asked her what she liked best about herself when she looked into a mirror...her answer was her bright red hair as it reminded her dad of the sunset. Mr. Holland then told her to play the sunset...and removed the sheet music that had become the crutch that held her back. Within moments, her playing was transformed into something that can only come from the heart.

Too often I fail to capture the photographs I feel in my heart...probably because I too rely too much on crutches that actually hold me back more than help. Oddly enough, I discovered almost by accident what makes a great photo...and it's probably not what you might think. The crutches we use result from too much worrying about the mechanics of the camera and not thinking enough about why we are there...what are we looking for...what is that inside of us that we know is there...but struggle to give it meaning...to give it a voice.

You see, photography is so much like music, that we too often fail to recognize it. Photograph the music in your heart...might be somewhat of an unorthodox way of approaching the craft...but thinking in those terms just might be the catalyst that propels your photography to a new level. Light is the mood generating notes of photography...but music becomes the melody of that light...and all photographic moments carry with it a silent musical score that photographers can feel from within.

Each photographic moment carries with it a different melody...unique in strength and power. You know it when you see it...because you don't really see it visually...you experience it internally. A photographic moment that sings or fills the air with symphonic crescendo's...will in due course generate a photograph that carries a sense of orchestration...that is where the mood and atmosphere comes from.

Photography, if you stop and think about it, does closely parallel the mood generating effects of a great musical score. Tapping into that power and searching for light that is filled with a great performance...well...you'll know it when it happens...you just have to give that silent music from within a visual voice.

Keith

Insights: The Soft Light Before Sunrise

When the gray of winter arrives and frost settles across the land, I often reflect on the warmer days of summer’s past.  There are but a few true iconic moments I can remember, moments that stirred my soul into greater understanding - none more prominent - none more lasting - than times spent floating above the mirrored waters of a gentle lake . . . in the soft light before sunrise.

 

Keith

Insights: A Pure and Perfect Light

A thought crossed my mind the other day, one that carried a profound image across its depth. As I played with the idea the basic concept behind it revealed a deeper meaning that I had never before realized.

You see, in photography we often use filters to change the light into a form we want it to become. Sometimes we darken it, somtimes we shift the color cast, sometimes we ruin it, but overall, attaching a filter to our lense allows us to use light in a different manner than its original strength would otherwise provide. We may believe what we've done creates an improvement, but more often than not what we have accomplished is to distort the light so that it no longer retains its natural look.

As I thought about it, I realized that we do the same kind of thing with the light of God. We mistakenly want to place filters between ourselves and his light so we can change it into what we want it to become instead of simply using the natural purity and truth of what it represents. Doing so never improves it, it only serves to create a distorted image that limits our ability to enjoy it as it was intended; a pure and perfect light.

Insights: Moments of the Heart

 

Moments of the Heart are what I call them - moments of time and place blended in such a way as to carve new meaning into a faded identity. It is during those times I am most at home - most in tune with who I am.  As I drift alone on silent waters and experience a new day come to life - I find myself no longer attached to the past - I discover something new - something remarkable - for as surely as the sun will rise - I rise with it…suspended above boundaries of light.

Insights: Like a Son and a Dad

(...An excerpt from a letter to my son...)

Mistakes are what God allows us to make so we can learn from them. Our mistakes are not what hold us down. It is how we choose to react to them that determine what they mean in our lives.  If we allow them to fester, they never heal – they only serve to destroy everything that is good.

God creates a path – a series of paths really – for us to choose from, but even the best of paths are filled with dangers.  He allows us to make our own choices, but he desires to walk with us on whatever path we choose.  It is what we do as we travel along that path that reflect who we are.  We can choose to allow pot holes and difficult terrain to slow our progress, to make us angry, frustrated, and distant, bitter or apathetic.  We can allow trials and tribulations to fill our lives with uncertainty and fear, or, we can see them as humbling challenges. When we fall, we can choose to extend our right hand toward our heavenly father to lift us – help us rest – so he can place us safely on his shoulders to carry us across that difficult ground. Once across the gauntlet, He will set us upon that path again and place his hand on our shoulder to guide us through more difficult circumstances. Like the good father he is, he will challenge us to face our fears –show us where we went wrong and then point the way back to safety.  He allows us to reap the rewards and setbacks of our decisions.  Yet, He will embolden us to persevere through whatever comes our way.  He touches our hearts with compassion and fills it with confidence, and most importantly, he helps us discover what the love of a father really means.

 He will do this even for Daddy’s who made too many mistakes with their own sons. Amid the chaos, He provides clarity about knowing the distinction between going it alone - and reaching for his strength.  This realization comes from a heart that has shared such moments with him – like a son and his dad – which is like it should be…

Insights - From the Prairie

A new series starts today. I call it Insights. 

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In the half-light of pre-dawn, a shrouding haze subdued the warmth of the rising sun as I stood on a prairie knoll.  Surrounding me were miles of Oklahoma’s Tallgrass Prairie. The Oklahoma wind, already sweeping across the land, gently whispered to me and I felt at once lonesome and at peace.  Within A moment the sun burned through the haze and cast a golden glow across the prairie, and what was once trapped in darkness...became light.

Too often we allow distractions to darken our perspectives like the dim ambient light I encountered during this prairie moment. A time eventually comes when we must stand exposed on the grassy knoll of truth about God’s word.  When we do, then his words will clear the haze from our lives and his love will whisper gently to us...and renew our lonesome spirit.           

Cropping for Impact

Sometimes I take a picture understanding that I will more than likely crop it down to create a new image out of it. Usually it is because I do not have the correct lens available or something is just a bit too far away and I have to settle.

Cropping does not require any kind of advanced understanding of techniques, it is more a matter of being able to identify the photograph within the photograph, then removing all the distractions. Here's an example. The top image was the original. It's okay, but to my eye the photograph in the photograph fell upon the middle leaf (bottom photo). There was just a bit too much stuff in the original.

Here's another example. In this case the main attraction was just too far away. As a result it was pretty well lost in all the clutter surrounding it, but by cropping in very tight, the main subject now becomes the main subject. Things to avoid though are unseen distractions that can foul up a shot. In this case a stem from another plant intersects the image from top to bottom creating somewhat of a distraction.

Anyway, don't be afraid to crop your images. Many times if you look for the image within the image, you'll become better equipped to see the shot in the field before you even take it.

Keith

The Art of Seeing

I read a story once about how Ansel Adams was setting up one of his famous photographs while others were watching. He noticed something out of place in the view and walked a few yards into the scene and broke off a dead limb hanging from a tree. He supposedly said something to the effect, “That limb doesn’t belong in my photograph.”

Most of us probably would never have seen the obtrusive limb much less taken the time to remove it. But, with his trained eye, he was able to identify what was out of place and took measures to remedy the situation. It was a perfect example that defines the art of seeing.

In photography the art of seeing is one of the most important elements in composition. It’s not so much a matter of recognizing an obviously beautiful scene it is recognizing beauty within the marginal scene that is difficult.

A few years ago I snapped a rather quick photograph of some water plants rising out of the edge of a small lake. A soft greenish reflection spread across the surface of the lake around the plants that created a nice mood generating moment. I really didn’t think too much about it, I just quickly framed it and fired off a couple quick shots. In that same kind of molded moment, I snapped another similar image where the reflected light on the surface cast a yellowish glow amongst a tangle of tree limbs that had fallen into the water. Again, I didn’t think too much about it, just snapped a couple of quick shots.

Some weeks later someone was watching a video I made about that lake that included those two images and she commented, “How did you see that…how did you know that a few plants and some tree limbs would make such good photographs…I would have never seen that nor even thought about looking for something like that.”

 I found it difficult to answer the questions…and it came out something like this, “I just saw it…it was instinct.” Actually I did not think the images were all that great, but they were nice examples of seeing photographically.

As I began to reflect on how I managed to take those two photos I tried to think through the process of what I did. The first thing I remember is seeing the reflected light on the surface of the water. Then I saw the structure around it. By using a long lens, and panning across the surface of the lake looking in the direction of the plants and tree limbs, I was able to isolate those ordinary subjects against some exceptional light. When my eye saw the moment…I fired off the shots. It was that simple.

How I actually saw the moment(s) came from countless thousands of failed photographs trying to accomplish the same thing. All of those failures have contributed to improving the art of seeing to the point that it becomes almost instinctive. You just know it when you see it. The moments were not obvious…it required looking beyond the obvious and seeing what is not always easily seen.

Many times we allow the big picture to get in the way. The big picture represents the obvious, the subtle reflections and the tangles represent the not so obvious. Being able to do so takes practice and a willingness to break away from our preconceived ways of always wanting to do the same old thing the same old way.

Keith

Kentucky's Tallgrass Prairie

I would suspect that most people rarely associate Kentucky with Tallgrass Prairie. I'm originally from the

prairie lands and must admit when I discovered that where I live now was once part of an isolated, yet significant segment of the tallgrass prairie region I was surprised. This area today is mostly farm country and from what  I can tell it is prime farm country. But that farming history has its roots embedded in the once ancient and diverse tallgrass prairies that covered this part of Kentucky.

Today only remnants of Kentucky's prairie remains scattered here and there along old fencerows, railroads, fallow fields, and stretching beside the banks of small streams. The story is much the same across what was at one time perhaps the largest ecosystem in North America.  Once covering over 400,000 square miles from Canada to the Gulf of Mexico, the Tallgrass Prairie (not to be confused with the more westerly short grass prairies) stretched virtually unimpeded through the heartland of a nation. It was characterized by multiple species of grasses that could stand as tall as a man and supported a myriad of

wildlife including millions of the magnificent American Bison, or buffalo as most people call them. Today almost 99 percent of it has vanished having been turned into the breadbasket of the world. The only locations where horizon to horizon vistas of original tallgrass prairie can be found is in Kansas and Oklahoma.

Kentucky's tallgrass region was an isolated area that stretched like a long sideways comma from the western tip of the state across the south central portion. It covered thousands of acres, prime country that the first settlers turned into wheat and corn, soy and tobacco. It still clings to life along the already mentioned isolated remnant locations, yet what can be found still retains that nostalgic connection to a time when the land was wild.

Efforts have been made to restore portions of Kentucky's prairie. Halls Prairie near Auburn is a small patch of about 100 acres of restored tallgrass prairie. There is also a small patch near Barren River lake. Kentucky's prairie never existed on the large scale that could be found across the plains. It was mostly open fields and patches scattered between wooded areas and along stream banks. Yet collectively it amounted to a significant area that retained it own unique diversity.

Near my home is a fallow field that displays an element of tallgrass mystery.

It is about twenty acres or so, yet within that twenty acres can be found the color and variety of wild prairie. Left alone, it will grow to as high as my shoulders in places. There are prairie flowers in abundance in this small patch. Far from providing that sense of openness that one might expect, it is typical of what Kentucky's prairie lands were like. Please enjoy these few moments exploring Kentucky's Tallgrass Prairie.

Keith

Connections

Many times I have photographed subjects only to have them turn out rather flat and ordinary. It

is frustrating for sure because that is not what I expect from my efforts. I am not a perfectionist by any stretch, but I know what I want from my photographs and when I am unable to achieve that level I am disappointed.

It is a struggle for most photographers to continually attain that high level of achievement. Maybe we expect too much of ourselves and need to simply chill out and get back to enjoying what we do and not worry so much about all of that. Then again, maybe it is because we do desire to achieve a high standard that we keep trying. When I view amazing images taken by amazingly talented photographers, I catch a glimpse of what is possible and that encourages me to continue striving for higher standards. Even so, I realize that I must find that avenue of expression that is unique to my heart’s desires. To do so is to make a personal connection that extends from a single element of discovery, through your vision, across time to all who may view that captured moment of light.

A successful photograph transcends simple mechanics where technical elements by themselves will not produce a great photograph. What produces one is your ability to interpret from the heart. Passion is what stirs it. Emotion is what drives it. Skill is what captures it. Being able to connect  all three is the desired result. Effectively interpreting a scene visually where the end result generates an emotional connection between you, the moment, and the viewer requires more than basic technical skills. Technique is important for sure, but this kind of approach requires a personal revelation. It requires that you give up something of yourself from inside to gain a deeper perspective of the impact you desire to capture. This does not always materialize simply from what you see visually. It requires you to see beyond the obvious and look more deeply into what is being revealed emotionally…the revelations that are truly unique moments of discovery.

Moments of discovery like this do not always appear on cue. They are rare happenings when circumstance, place, light, and personal insight come together. The personal insight part is the most difficult to interpret and then apply for it depends on your emotional state and how you react to the other three elements. 

Photography is about making connections through emotional interpretations of moments of light.

Keith

Looking for the Unseen

Occasionally I will have someone comment about an image I’ve taken and say something like this,

“How did you see that?”

Most of the time I struggle with an explanation and stammer through with a lot of… ‘uhs’ and ‘wells’ and ‘you see it’s sort of…blah blah blah.’ But that got me to thinking about that question. Just how do you see the unseen when it comes to photography? The more I think about it, it is more about how to look for the unseen than actually seeing it.

Looking for the unseen, as it pertains to photography, is first understanding the nature of light and how it affects your subject, and then understanding how your camera will react to that light.  Many times it is not a matter of actually seeing anything, it is a matter of knowing how the camera and lens combination will capture that moment and then taking advantage of those characteristics.

John Shaw who is an accomplished professional landscape and nature photographer and author made a comment one time about an image he took. The image involved one of those layered distant rolling hills scenes with fog separating the various hill layers. What he did was to meter off one of the distant hills to allow his camera’s metering to assign a middle tone value to that layer. Then, he simply let the rest of the image exposure fall where it would. His comment went like this. 

“Was that the way the scene actually looked? Probably not…but it was the way I wanted to capture it.”

What he captured was not what he saw visually. That concept is difficult for novice photographers to grab hold of. For some reason they have been indoctrinated into believing that they must capture what they see exactly the way they see it when in reality, photography involves as much artistic expression as it does technical prowess. Artistic expression is where most novice photographers drop the ball. They tend to spend too much time just trying to understand the whistles and bells on their camera and not nearly enough time…learning how to see. Artistic expression is all about looking for the unseen. In other words, looking beyond what is routinely visual and recognizing how light becomes the paint you as the artist will use to complete your work of art.

This concept is difficult to teach, but one of the best ways to learn about ‘looking for the unseen’ is to study art. Take an art class, draw a scene on paper no matter how crude, learn about color and texture….texture is what manipulates light…it bounces it around…softens it, hardens it, applies ridges and rolls, warm and subtle or cold and strong. These are 'light' events that are not so much seen, but are experienced visually. 

Photography is creating a visual experience for your viewer. When you are able to capture what they would not ordinarily see and bring it to life…then you will have finally arrived at understanding how to see photographically. There is an instinctive nature to accomplishing this, but it requires a subtle yet significant shift in the way you look at the world. When you watch the world from an ordinary viewpoint, your images will reflect the ordinary. When you watch the world expecting to discover extraordinary moments of light, well...you'll better understand what I mean when it happens.

Keith

Nine Hundred and Ninety-Nine is not Enough

I once heard Barry Switzer, the former University of Oklahoma head football coach, in an interview tell how he answered this question from one of his players....

"How come we have to do this over and over a thousand times coach?"

His answer was classic..."Because 999 is not enough."

Photography is a lot like that. It is a simple fact that you get better with practice...the more the better. But, practice must be of a high quality production before it contributes to getting better. Practicing the wrong things over and over will make you very good at doing the...well, wrong things.

Always doing the same old thing the same old way more often than not makes you very stale as a photographer and limits your ability to grow. That is why I challenge those who attend workshops that I have taught to break away from the ordinary. Only concentrating on one type of photography may make you reasonably proficient in that endeavor, but not unlike physical fitness where cross training  provides a better overall fitness level, cross training in photography will also make you a better photographer.

I tend to concentrate mostly on landscape and scenic photography, but I also do location portraits, nature/wildlife, occasionally some action/sports, night photography, astrophotography, events, floral, classic cars, video productions, Black and White, and a lot of just plain old fun snapshots. I actually enjoy all of them and as a result, I believe that kind of diversity has improved my ability to see photographically. I've learned a great deal from each of them.

From location portraits I've learned the importance of expression, light, and timing. Landscapes and scenics have taught me about how to simplify...to identify what is really important. From nature and wildlife I've learned to be more patient and exacting. Night photography has helped me read drama and story into a composition. From astrophotography I've learned to anticipate the extraordinary and to look for what is not always seen. From working events I've learned how to operate at a fast pace and make quick instinctive adjustments. Black and white has shown me the importance of shape, form, and texture. Floral's have helped me discover subtle details and how to apply light to enhance those details. Video has taught me about angles, steadiness of hand, and continuity.

There is a great deal to gain by trying a diverse approach to your photography. To become accomplished at all of those types of photographic requirements, requires a lot of practice. If for no other reason, variety helps keep your interest level higher. You know, coach Switzer was right...999 is not enough...I'm not so sure 1000 is either...when it comes to photography.

A look At Life - A Thru The Lens Moment

The past month or two I've been too busy to place much effort into keeping up with the Blog...sorry, but, it seems I tend to allow events and circumstances interfere with the rest of my life from time to time. 

This is a repost of a blog entry I made a couple years ago...seems rather fitting now that I've read thru it again...
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Over the years I've discovered that photography often lends itself well to teaching life lessons.  Most of the time they may seem simple on the surface, but when you begin to look more deeply into the possibilities, then it actually makes a lot of sense.

One thing I preach when it comes to photography is that 'Quality of Light' is much more important than Quantity of Light.  Being able to recognize the difference comes with experience and more importantly, is more often found by simply slowing down.  But, the term Quality of Light also carries with it other connotations.

Living in the country, Kris and I love to sit on the porch in the rocking chairs on a summer evening when the heat of the day is beginning subside and the air becomes cooler.  We enjoy listening to the sounds of the evening as the night critters begin their symphony.  Across and up the road a little ways is a small pond that is filled with pea-frogs who with their high pitched chirping fills the evening with their song.  As the glow from the day fades into night, so fades our stress levels and a calming, peaceful feeling begins to prevail.

From my own experience and talking with friends we hear how chaotic lives become.  Although all of us experience chaos from time to time, my wife and I have come to realize that you just have to make time to slow down.  If not by choice, then sooner or later circumstances or health will slow you down...usually when you least want it to.  Case in point being my coming down with shingles a few weeks ago...still fighting some of the effects of that even now.  Guess I just let things chew at me inside longer than I should have and my body said it's time for a rest...if you're not going to do it yourself, then I'm going to force you to...and it did.

From our dining room a large window opens outward to the front porch and we often turn on the light in that room then dim it to a soft light so it will cast a warm glow into the night as we sit outside.  It's just enough light to break the darkness without creating much of a glare.  it provides a soft, calming atmosphere to our evening.  It is also what I call 'Quality Light'.

If we were to turn on the porch lights we'd have plenty of extra light that would flood the area...but we'd also have an excess of glare.  Within a few minutes hundreds of flying bugs and other critters would invade the area and before long what started out as a quiet evening would become an annoyance.

Life I suppose is a lot like that.  More than likely because of 'Glare' we allow into our lives, we miss out on opportunities to enjoy the stillness that we need.  The more 'Glare' we allow to flood our lives...often mistakenly believing we need it...the more 'Life Bugs' tend to come around and mess things up.

I think it is much better to tone it down...use the soft subtle light that God's presence in our lives gives to us that glows from within to light your way. There would be much less glare, more than enough light, and a lot more peace and quiet.  When the warm glow from inside the house casts its light across our porch all things benefit.  We are able to not only see more clearly the things near us, but it adds to the peaceful atmosphere of the moment.  When we allow God's love into our lives, that warm glow begins to shine from within and spills over to the world around us.  It does so softly, without unnecessary glare and by doing so calms not only our lives, but the lives of those who are near to us.

Taking a photograph during the middle of a bright day will generate a well lit snapshot...but will rarely create a photograph with artistic appeal.  Running around looking for something to photograph will more often than not result in not much return for the effort.  But, sit still for a while...just wait and watch until the light is low and soft...that is when the mood changes...the scene transforms into a image that presents itself from the realm of perfection.  'Be still...and know that I am God...'words that will serve us well if we only take time to apply them to not only our photography...but to our lives.

To Heaven and Back

I could see to Heaven and back as I gazed into one of the darkest night skies I've seen in this part of Kentucky. Arching overhead the Milky Way haze spanned its silvery ribbon from horizon to horizon and the stars lit the night with a million beacons. Hovering just above the western horizon the crescent moon glowed with a golden flavor just before it disappeared leaving the realm of the night to the subtle glow of stars. For the next couple of hours I pointed my camera skyward and tracked the stars across the heavens capturing what I knew was there, all but invisible to the eye.

I've have for many years been fascinated with the universe and all of its magical glory. Until recently I had to settle spending time gazing at those wonders using photographs taken by professional astronomers. They are indeed amazing images. As a photographer, it was only natural that I migrated toward trying to capture the night sky myself. Surprisingly, I discovered just how relatively simple it is. Even so, it does require a bit of simple mechanical assistance to make those long exposures that are critical to capturing the subtle nature of the night sky.

In a previous post I wrote about building a crude sky tracker. As a first attempt, it did prove crude, but oddly enough it worked. In time I've been able to improved the design and have learned more about how to align it properly. The results have been far greater than I could have imagined.

What I was lacking more than anything was a very dark and clear night free from light pollution. This part of Kentucky can never be completely free of light pollution, but there are pockets of relatively dark locations even near where I live that offer at least a measure of opportunity. I discovered a place about three miles from my home that offered some potential. After a quick visit to a neighboring home to ask permission and to inform them that I was going be out and about in that area late at night, I arrived near midnight and was greeted with an amazing sky.

As my eyes grew more accustomed to the dark, more and more stars became apparent. The Milky Way haze as it rotated higher into the sky took on the appearance of a silvery ribbon. It was an amazing couple of hours whose silence was broken only by the subtle beeping of my shutter release timer. Fifteen seconds, a quarter turn of the tracker drive, thirty seconds, another quarter turn, one minute , two, then three. When that first image appeared I leaped into the air with a fist pump and a silent 'Yes...!' It was all finally coming together. The sleepiness I normally would have at that time of night was all but non-existent. I pointed the camera to different parts of the sky...tried different exposure lengths...different focal lengths. Several times I managed to kick the leg of my tripod knocking the tracker alignment off kelter...reset...I continued into the evening. Two A.M. came and went...I could have stayed all night...but knew it must end soon.

Astrophotography has proven itself as a challenge and fascinating form of the art of photography. There are those who do not share that same enthusiasm and I completely understand. Not everyone will carry the same levels of interest. I would suspect because of the nature of the requirements...being out late at night...would have something to do with that.

I've been wanting to start a new long term project but wanted it to be something new and different. I believe the opportunity has presented itself.

Keith

Impressions

One definition of Impression is: A strong effect produced on the intellect, feelings, conscience...the first and immediate affect of an experience or perception on the mind.

Photography is heavily influenced by impression.  In essence virtually every photograph is an impression of a single moment of light. Impression in return is heavily influenced by shape, form, color, and texture. With this being the case…just how can we effectively use the idea of Impression to create interesting photographs?

In a photograph, impression implies something that looks familiar but is somehow different. When we see an impressionistic photograph…what we’re looking at is exactly that…something that is oddly familiar…but it just doesn’t quite fit that normal state of structure we demand in our lives. Our brain wants to perceive the image in one way and yet interpret it another way.

Let me show you an example.

In this photograph we see an impressionistic view of a group of trees. What we see looks familiar, yet the way we perceive it visually tends to affect our view as though it is a series of lights and darks, vertical and angled lines that flow across a dark background. Why it appears this way is because of the isolation achieved by using a telephoto lens. Visually, if we were standing in this location what we would see is a wide angle view of the entire spectrum of the scene…it would…well look like what we would expect a wooded area to look like. When we tighten the view…isolate a smaller section of the larger view…we can achieve this impresionistic capture of a group of trees.

Here is another example.

Reflections on water are in essence all about impression. Water will impart a softer feel to a reflected image…factor in a few light ripples and the light is broken into a myriad of shapes and textures. We know it is a reflection…we sense that the reflected light involves some fall-like colors…yet visually we cannot ascertain the exact nature of what is being reflected. In this case…it’s all about light, shape, and color.

When I seem to grow stale in my photography, I often fall back on the idea of capturing impressions as opposed to capturing physical likeness. By doing so, it allows my seeing to shift from what it wants to naturally lock onto, and forces it to think in terms of artistic flavors. It changes the way your mind perceives the world and allows it to isolate visual cues and shape them into a form and composition that becomes a refreshing perspective. This approach will improve your ability to see physical likeness from a more artistic point of view.

Keith