Creating Extraordinary Visions Part 5 - Xross Training

In part 5 of our series we will take a look at how you can generate an overall improvement in your photography by Xross Training.

Xross Training (Cross Training) is a technique used by athletes to enhance their overall performance. Athletes have learned that by getting involved in various kinds of fitness activities their baseline fitness level is elevated over time. It also helps to prevent burnout and plateauing where your body no longer responds to the demands placed upon it. It can even prevent becoming stale and bored. Photographers are subject to the same kind of issues and can find benefit by Photographic xross training.

I tend to do a lot of different types of photography. During any given period of time I may concentrate more on one type than another, but overall the variety of photography challenges I've carried over the years has greatly improved my understanding of the photographic process. Whether it be landscape, wildlife, or nature, or portrait in a studio or location shooting, macro, night sky, low light, and yes even timelapse photography, I find a great deal of pleasure in pursueing all types.

At first I simply wanted to do something different so I began looking at other ways to use my camera. But, over time I began to realize the benefits of having done this. For example, shooting the night sky requires you to understand the exposure process in more detail and forces you to shoot in manual mode. It teaches you about the light gathering ability of the digital camera which can be applied to other forms of photography.

Shooting the night sky forces you to look at the exposure from a different perspective. Low Light photography does a similar thing by forcing you to look at how your camera reacts to the different light tempertures, or white balance.

One of the best ways to cross train your photography is to photograph people in general or more specifically to get involved in location portrait shooting.

The reason for this is because when photographing people you are constantly looking at every form of light; soft light, harsh light, directional light, backlight, filtered light, colored light and how to apply white balance effectively, artificial light and all the possibilities it opens. You also look at expression and how light captures mood. You learn to work through the exposure process to capture challenging moments (we'll talk more about photographing people in part 6). And, those are just a few of the examples.

It is easy to fall into a photographic rut often caused by doing the same ole thing the same ole way all the time. By Xross Training you break up the monotony, you challenge yourself in new ways, new opportunites suddenly appear and old opportunites become fresh and exciting again.

The bottom line is this. Don't be afraid to try something new even if you have no clue how to do it. You might be surprised at what you can learn and discover about yourself. Let me give you an example of how trying something new literally changed the direction of my photography.

About three years ago or so I knew literally nothing about how to use a speed light or flash. My point of reference about using them went way back to the old flash cube days with their harsh light and red eye effects. I owned a single flash back then but rarely used it because in reality I was afraid to. I didn't want to look foolish because of my ignorance of how to use them. I just kept saying, "I prefer to shoot portraits in natural light." But, I kept seeing all of these amazing images others were making using speed lights and I knew I was missing something. There was more to this form of photography than I understood, so I began to read and watch YouTube videos by Joe McNally, Joe Brady, and others. One day while watching one such video Joe Brady explained in very simple terms the relationship between the flash and the camera and all of a sudden that little light bulb went off in my mind and I said, "Oh...so that's the way it works. Now I understand...this is actually quite simple."

The concept was simple, putting it into practice required, well, a lot of practice. But that is exactly what I did
and today I absolutley love using them for location portrait shoots. I am still learning how to put them into play, but each time I do a shoot, I learn something else. Three years ago I had no clue what I was doing, yet today because I tried something new, some of the most compelling portraits I've ever made were created using off camera flash. That is the kind of lesson one learns from Xross Training and not being afraid to try something new.

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. Xross training your photography will in time generate a stronger overall performance that will show up in all forms of your photographic pursuits.

Creating Extraordinary Visions - Part 4 - Simplicity of Purpose

In part 4 of this series let's look at a concept that is so obvious, we sometimes completely overlook it: Simplicity of Purpose (SoP). Simply stated SoP means that everything in the photograph is there for a reason. Nothing is there that detracts from the story the image is trying to portray. It follows the old adage, keep it simple.

The most compelling images are almost always the ones with the simplest composition. Understand please that an image can contain a great deal of complexity to it. However, the images creating the most impact are the ones where the general theme of the message is carried all the way through. In other words, a great photograph almost always tells a single story. If you have multiple stories going on in your image they tend to confuse the viewer making it difficult for them to lock in on what you were attempting to show. Some examples of this include things like having a cluttered background, or powerlines showing up that are not needed, or no real theme to your image...what Ansel Adams called 'Confused Seeing'.

When trying to simplify your conpositions look for those slivers of visual opportunity. You may indeed be looking at a grand vista, but look at the vista and identify what is actually capturing your imagination. Is it the clouds, how the shadows flow across the landscape, or, what about the barn or the random rolls of hay scattered across the field? Maybe it is none of those. Maybe it is something smaller, more subtle like how the barn is reflected in the pond. Focus in on what is most important to your story and capture those moments.

Closely related to SoP is a concept known as Finding Order Amongst the Chaos (FOAC). Sometimes I will be at a location and I know there is something there working toward a great photo, but, my images just do not seem to capture the mood. They just seem cluttered and confused. What I do then is to narrow down the options...look for the order, or that one thing that stands apart from the overall scene yet still defines the bigger story. Indeed, defining the bigger story by using the smaller portions is a fantastic way to create something extraordinary when nothing else seems to be working. FOAC is a great technique to help you create simplicity.

Simplicity of Purpose, Find Order Amongst the Chaos, two extremely useful ideas to help you discover the extraordinary images your heart knows is there.

Creating Extraordinary Visions Part 3 - Find a Purpose for Your Photography

Great Photography demands the photographer to find a purpose for his photography. What I mean by this is, if you approach photography by always relying on random chance to capture great images, you will seriously handicap your ability to capture extraordinary images. By focusing on a purposeful direction you will greatly enhance your chances of discovering extraordinary opportunities.

Purposeful photography eliminates much of the guess work. It provides a reason for your efforts. These efforts can be pointed in multiple directions at the same time. I start and complete projects all the time. sometimes I will have several projects going at the same time. Projects can run for just about any length of time, from a single day, weekend, a month or longer. My longest running project was a year long effort to photograph one of my favorite locations, Shanty Hollow Lake. It was a difficult challenge but at the same time provided me with some spectacular opportunities and it ran concurrently with other shorter duration projects. All of these provided a measure of focus for what I wanted to accomplish both artisitically and personally.

One of the elements I was able to employ was the concept of always photographing to inspire. Random shooting rarely helps you create or find inspiration. However, random shooting does have its merits in that it might help you discover a purpose. I've actually done this by simply heading out with no real agenda to run across an opportunity that jump started an idea. Once I defined the project purpose, I was able to focus in on specific elements I wanted to accomplish. By doing so, instead of capturing simple snap shots of things I began to look for those moments that creatively defined the intent of the project.

Creating a purpose for your photography will in time stimulate your creative instincts and elevate your photography to higher level.

Creating Extraordinary Visions Pt2 - Change The Way You See the World

In part two of our series of Creating Extraordinary Visions let's take a look at some of the concepts of how we turn what we see visually into the vision we want to create.

Believe you Can Create Extraordinary Visions is an absolute necessity because before you can consistently create visions with extraordinary quality, you must first believe you can. Approaching photography from the perspective of I hope I can...or Let's see what happens...or How does he do that...will erode your confidence. The most successful photographers are the ones who approach their craft with an air of confidence. Without it, you are simply crossing your fingers hoping the conditions will provide an amazing opportunity. With confidence, you can create a vision no matter what the conditions and confidense comes with practice and application of knowledge. Simple knowledge of how to do something does not always equate quality...you must put it to practice and develope it. Sometimes it means you must ask yourself another question; What must I do to change the way I see the world?

Changing the way we visually see the world means letting go of some preconceived notions. One of the biggest is to let go of one thing; You do not have to capture a scene exactly the way you see it. Many beginner and even advanced photographers cling to the idea they have to capture what they see exactly the way they see it when in reality, your camera gives you a tremendous advantage in capturing what you see the way you emotionally visualize it. In other words, concentrate less on defining your image the way you see it and concentrate more on defining a feeling or mood.

Capturing a mood or feeling requires that you understand how light changes the dynamics of a photo opportunity. Many novice photographers tend to believe that the object in and of itself is what creates that great image. When we change how we perceive the world and base that perception on light the whole dynamics of what we do and how we do it changes. No longer do we simply see a pretty flower and photograph it. We begin to look at that flower from the perspective of how light can transform it. We begin to visualize how we want our finished image to look and take steps to capture that visualized perception. Every photo opportunity is different and each one requires a slightly different approach, but one trait all great photographers have is they begin with the end product in mind before they ever snap the shutter.

This requires the photographer to look at the elements of quality light...direction, quantity, and visual impact. Simply changing your position can have a profound impact on the quality of the light. Time of day and the direction of the light can turn the ordinary into something extraordinary.

Always remember, Composition becomes the building blocks of your image, but it is the light that gives it drama. Ordinary light creates ordinary images. Dramatic light can turn transform your composition into a work of art. Your in camera settings combined with a few limited post processing tweaks can drastically alter what you see visually into a compelling story filled with drama.

Creating Extraordinary Visions

Recently I was asked to give a condensed version of a photography workshop (How to See Photographically) I presented several times a few years ago. The new version turned out to be  a new presentation reworked from the original and was called Creating Extraordinary Visions. Its focus was to simply touch on the concept of what it takes to consistently create extraordinary photographs. It was more inspirational than instructional in nature although a few ideas did find their way into the program. Over the next several blog posts in a multi-part presentation I want to share bits and pieces about Creating Extraordinary Visions with you the readers. Hopefully, you will find some inspiration along the way.

It All Begins With Light

Creating extraordinary visions begins with light, for you see Light in all of its moods is what transforms the ordinary into the extraordinary. As photographers, that is what we do...We Transform Light! We also see what others do not see. We develop an uncanny ability to look beyond what is visually in front of us and see into the potential of the moment, because photography is indeed 90% seeing and 10% photographing. 

The 10% is important no doubt. It is the instinctive part of photography where we grasp the difference between what makes a great exposure and simply capturing a visual xerox image of what we see. It is where we understand all of the mechanics of photography; shutter speed, aperture, ISO, White Balance, depth of field, composition, and so on...and the relationships between all of those components. It is where we understand how the camera is going to react to a given lighting condition and then have the ability to use that understanding to capture a scene the way we want it to look as opposed to always simply capturing what we see. But, photography is 90% seeing and this is one of the most difficult aspects of the art for most to fully grasp.

The art of seeing begins with light. Some years ago I read a statement by a world class photographer, Jack Dykinga, that altered my understanding of who I was as a photographer. What he said was, "Cameras and lenses are simply tools we use to capture our unique vision....Concentrate on equipment, and you will take technically good photographs. But, concentrate on seeing lights magic colors and your images will stir the soul."

Think about those words for a moment. Lights magic colors....Images that stir the soul....Unique vision. After reading Jacks statement all those years ago, I for the first time began to realize what photography was all about. It isn't about the object or the equipment...It is about creating a vision based on light. What you photograph is less important than how you photograph it. When you look at the potential photographic solution from the context of light, your whole perspective of what you do is changed. Light then becomes the driving force behind all of your images. From the dynamic grandeur of the Grand Canyon to the simple beauty of a single blade of grass...light is what defines how the image is received visually and the way you approach taking the image is dictated by the quality of the light.

There will come a point in time if you continue to pursue photography toward a high level of accomplishment, you will need to ask yourself two questions.

1.  Am I a picture taker of things?

2.  Do I consider myself to be an artist?

You see, the Picture Taker captures images believing it is the camera and/or the object itself being photographed that creates the great image. Rarely does the picture taker take into consideration the quality of the light and is usually satisfied with a photo as long as it is technically good. His motto is; I have a good camera therefore I take good pictures.

On the other hand, The Artist uses Light to bring his images to life and approaches his craft from the context

of light from the very beginning. He can take the most simple of objects using basic equipment and turn it into a work of art that will indeed stir the soul. He spends less time trying to define the object as he visually sees it, and instead attempts to create a feeling or mood. He begins the process by visualizing what the end result will be before he ever points the camera.

Creating Extraordinary Visions begins with understanding this basic concept about photography. 

Point of Greatest Potential

Some years ago I heard Dewitt Jones, a former National Geographic photographer say something that proved to become a life altering moment for me as a photographer. He simply said, "...be willing to place yourself at that point of greatest potential..." What he meant was, as a photographer in order to capture those iconic moments, you must be willing to do what you must do to place yourself in the best possible position to capture the most meaningful moments of light. We do not always know when those iconic moments will occur. We can only make a guess and see what happens, like what happened during this seasons wheat harvest.

Not a cloud broke the pale blue hue of the June sky. For a photographer, not so good. The sky needs clouds to add texture and interest. I kept hoping some would develop come sundown to create one of those legendary Kentucky sunsets, but as luck would have it what greated me was a bright, pale, flat pallet.

I had connected once again with my farmer friends James and Mark to photograph the wheat harvest. The idea was to shoot late in the day and into the early evening hoping to frame against the sunset the giant mechanical wonder they used to harvest the wheat. It was a large field and as the monster combine growled across the field clouds of dust and chaff filled the space behind it. As the sun settled behind the tree line I tried to make something happened, but there just wasn't any texture to the sky, just a bright glow that made it difficult to capture anything that looked interesting. Did manage to catch a few interesting shots with their running lights on, but what I wanted most just did not happen.

I have learned over the years that sometimes you need to turn around and look the other direction, just to see what is behind you. Doing so will often reveal an entirely new perspective. As luck would have it, from instinct I did turn around for a moment and noticed that a magnificent full moon was about to drift clear of the horizon. It was the first day of summer, and as I discovered later, this was to be the last full moon in our lifetime to occur on this day. No sunset worth capturing, so I adapted and began shooting in the other direction and concentrated on framing their operation against this amazing natural moment. It proved more difficult than I expected.

First of all I knew if I exposed for the combine and their lights, the moon would become a bright spot in the sky showing no texture at all, but if I exposed for the moon, the combine and fields would turn into a dark mass indistinguishable from the background. What I had to do was take two shots. The first was to capture the working equipment as it passed in front of the moon while it hovered low in the sky. The second was to expose for the moon. This second moon exposure was then cut and superimposed over the blown out moon from the first shot. Adding a bit of guasian blur to just the moon helped to blend it more evenly into the dark blue of the evening sky. Simple enough one might think, but it turned out to be an iconic photograph that could only occur on this first day of summer where the harvest coincided with the full moon.

Being there at that moment meant I was able to capture something that will not happen again in my lifetime.

Blending Two to Make One

I rarely use Photoshop Layers when I work up an image. On occasion I have, but most of the time the layers used were just a part of a plug-in software process that used them behind the scenes. However there is a simple way to use layers to create a new image from two separate images. The image shown below was made using this method.

First of all you need two images; the main background image, and the layered image that will be placed on top of the background image. In my example the background image is the wheat harvest farm equipment and the overlay image is the flag.

Using Photoshop Elements; First step is to open both the background image and the overlay image, then return to the background image.

Then, drag the overlay image, in this case the flag, into the background image. This will create a new PassThrough layer.

 Next grab the corners of the overlay image and expand it out to completely cover the background image and position the image the way you want it to line up.

Then using the Opacity slider, reduce the opacity of the layer down to something like 20% to 25% or to whatever looks good to you. Last step is to flatten the layer and save the new image.

It is that simple. This kind of operation can be used for a multitude of effects using a variety of image types.

The Adventure Side of Photography

Photography is an adventure no matter how you approach it. In fact if you approach it as an adventure, it does not matter where you are or what you are doing, opportunities can appear out of no where. That's the adventure part of it; you never know what to expect. Being ready is the most difficult part because those opportunities can and do often quickly disappear. Actually, approaching photography from an adventure aspect increases its appeal all the more. What better way to experience the highs and lows associated with any given adventure than to be able to capture it as it happens. A few years ago my fishing partners and I managed to schedule a few days for a much anticipated and needed float trip that proved the merit of approaching the craft as an adventure.

If I remember correctly, that was the 'Legend of Skull Bluff' trip where I managed to tumble out of my canoe as I was pushed by a determined wind and strong current into a rather annoying sweeper that effectively lived up to its name. As a result, my camera gear was drenched which pretty well ended my picture taking for the remainder of the trip. (Fortunately it was insured so it proved more of an inconvenience than a disaster). Before the drenching I managed to take some good photos, one in particular proved to be rather exciting. It was another one of those adventure trips we had made many times before, most of which were uneventful. This one proved to be otherwise.

We were on a four or five day float trip, depending on how fast we decided to travel the 60 miles or so down to the take out at Gilbert on Arkansas' Buffalo National Scenic River. We experienced just about every kind of weather you can have, except snow, and it came close to doing that as well. From perfect blue sky upper 70's, to chilly 50's and blustery, to high winds, to a woolly bugger lightning storm that blew in with ominous clouds followed by a significant temperature drop into the upper 30's and rain, we endured it all during those few days.


The image shown above became one of those snap adventure moments. My floating partners were just ahead of me as I rounded a bend when the scene unfolded. The white bark of the river birch trees glowed silvery against the pale green background. Its gnarled and crooked branches pierced through the olive greenery and, combined with the overcast skies, to create an ancient Jurassic landscape appearance. My floating partners spun their canoe and began to cross over from left to right lining themselves up to cut through a shallow set if riffles. Their position in the composition became critical to the success of the image. I grabbed my camera and framed the image instinctively firing off the shot. The resulting image captured the essence of our multi-day float trip. That is what approaching photography as an adventure can do for you.

Sitting on a shelf inside a book case are several albums I prefer to call 'Bragging Books'. They are filled with hundreds of snapshot photos from fishing and hunting trips, to canoeing and hiking trips. Few if any of them possess any kind of quality to them, but the memories they capture speak of moments shared with friends across several decades. On those occasions when I was able to bring to bare my higher quality camera and lens, well some of the images stand apart as not only captured moments, but captured expressions of nature at its best.

Sometimes the composition simply appears in front of you. When that happens it becomes a scramble to extract the camera and proper lens, set the exposure, frame the composition, and catch the moment before it fades away. Talk about an adventure. It is perhaps one of the most difficult kinds of photography, capturing those snap moments you recognize as unique quality examples. Too often I have missed the moment. All it takes is for a cloud to drift to far in one direction, a beam of light hitting the trees just right to fade, or a too quick decision with the camera and you end up with a blurred product, to ruin your efforts. It is a challenge at times to remain alert to what spontaneously presents itself, but it makes you a better spontaneous photographer. Seeing is 90% of the battle when it comes to photography. Learning how to see spontaneously requires you practise at it. Approaching your photography from the aspect of it being an adventure will provide opportunities for plenty of such practise.

Taking some time off...again

Its time to put the blog to rest for a while. Appreciate the few viewers who actually took time to read the posts. Hope they made a positive impact. It's been fun and more than likely I will return someday, but until then I am signing off, but the blog page will remain open for anyone who might actually look through the archives.  Thanx again,

Keith

An Insecure and Uncertain Spring

Spring arrives insecure and uncertain in Kentucky. Seems like it tarries for several weeks not sure if it is ready to close the door on winter or burst into the glorius warmth we are ready for after a long cold spell. There will be the early flash of color as blooms come forth pink and white, red and yellow, as if brought to life through the magical movement of a wizard's wand. Then nature, as it is inclined to do, sends us a protest event by broiling a storm into life stirring up wind and rain and thunder boomers. One day it is comfortable with gentle breezes and soft warmth embracing the world. The next day cold air filters through again barging its way into every crevice sending chilling winds to remind us that winter is not yet over. Then one morning as if overnight, everything turns green again ushering in the dog days of summer. Those unsettled transitional days, until summer arrives, should be a great time for photographers to rediscover the magic of light.

Oddly, spring may be my least photographed season. It also seems to be the shortest one becoming more of a brief interlude between winter and summer. Every year I remind myself to take advantage of what it has to offer photographically. Yet, before I realize it almost every year, spring has come and gone and I have little to show in the way of photographs.

Spring is also I believe the most difficult of seasons to photograph. How could that be one might ask with all the flowering trees. It's difficult to explain but it is sort of like not being able to see the forest for the trees effect. What we visually encompass is a wonderful array of redbuds and dogwoods with their splashes of color interspersed randomly across the landscape trying to return to a green hue. We observe it with a wide field of view with three dimensional depth perception as a glorified vision of color with eyes capable of separating the various parts. The camera creates a flat one dimensional illusion of the view which in so many ways falls well short of capturing what we see. Placing all of the components into a composition that captures the essence of spring is one of the more difficult tasks for photographer. If we are not careful what we end up with is flat image of a redbud against a tangle of background trees. The photographer to avoid this must use other elements to create an illusion of depth and movement to create an effective composition.  The details of spring are much easier to see and compose for they are easily spearated from the background.

Even so, every spring I make attempts to capture this new face exploding upon the landscape, and each year I get a little better at it. This spring will be no exception.

Through The Radiance of Light

The English language is most pure when framed within a musical score. The expressions become more than words, they become the defining lyrics of our lives by touching our deepest levels of emotion. When recited through a golden voice, the words become embedded within our hearts from across a moment of time, a moment we often cling to for fear of never finding it again. From all the times I've fallen short in a quest to accomplish something of significance, my lack of musical ability echoes across the decades to taunt me to such a degree I am often brought to despair. So, when I experience a truly remarkable example of such talent, I am deeply encouraged through the beauty of how the music was shared. Even someone like me with virtually no musical ability can be moved by the purity of this wonderful form of art.

Maybe in some way, I seek to fill the musical void I possess through other avenues. Capturing life photographically provides at least a measure of filling such voids. You see, images taken from moments in time become the musical scores of the visual artist. Where I fail vocally, I seek to define visually. I will never successfully harmonize music into a beautiful song, but the desire to achieve such perfection is overwhelming at times. So, I choose to sing not with words, not with audible melodies...I sing through the radiance of light.

I Climbed A Hill

I climbed a hill one spring day. It wasn't much of a hill, rising gently maybe fifty feet or so higher than the surrounding terrain. From the narrow confines of the grid-like gravel road that cut across the prairie one could easily not even notice the slight dimple it presented on a landscape filled with undulating dimples. Except for the defining rocky outcropping on its peak, I would not have noticed it either, except I was looking for a high place, one offering a panoramic view in all directions.The peak rose maybe somewhat less than half a mile to the west and promised enough extra elevation to warrant a visit. What I discovered from its summit redefined forever my understanding of the essence of the prairie.

The prairie offers a quiet respite from our world, a place of rest in which we in our hurried approach to life too often neglect. It is rare we even recognize how much neglect we're guilty of as we tend to substitute other less effective means of comfort as filler to mutter through life. We've attached so many filters to our lives these days it is amazing we can recognize what is truly important or even what is quality rest. Our often distorted view of the world too often impales us with jagged emotional hooks filled with distrust, fear, and uncertainty. So deeply embedded they become, pulling them out is more painful than leaving them in. Even so, there are times when the hooks holding me hostage become so uncomfortable I am compelled to seek relief for the wounded soul they have created. Climbing a prairie hill, as it turns out, will do such a thing.

The tallgrass was not yet at its peak height just now reaching to my waist, high enough though to brush against my trousers with enough energy to slow my ascent. The half mile or so hike became more like three quarters of a mile as I had to continually cut back and forth to avoid a series of hidden ditches filled with pools of water from recent rains. The damp terrain imparted a deep prairie aroma to the air retaining a wet, freshly-cut flavor to it, but it's not the same. It's different, carrying a greater value with the biggness of the prairie embedded within it.

As I approached the summit, to my left and right prairie blooms unseen from the road became more abundant. A few at first, then more and more blended with the thicker prairie greenery. A splash of red, a dash of white, and a glorious spot or two of purple mixed with brilliant yellow splattered here and there to break the prevailing green pattern. Some stood tall, others favored a lower environment. All were wild and free products of an amazing eco-system. Closer to the summit, Coneflowers began to play in the wind and as I stepped upon the rocky outcropping at the top, the unseen portion of the hill on the west side rolled away to reveal a hidden wonder. Before me spread several acres filled with thousands of Coneflowers, mostly of the pale purple variety. Sloping to the north the hill fell away toward a pond surrounded by more acres of Black Eyed Susans. Their carpet of yellow and black covered the slope and moved in unison when, like an invisible hand, the wind cast its influence. Still farther to the west rose a series of mesas casting shadows in the shallow light of late afternoon adding texture to the landscape. Near their base a herd of about one hundred bison meandered across the fields moving as one unit. Their deep gutteral bellowing just audible. I observed them in fascination for a few moments. They moved with purpose unless a calf delayed following the herd until its mother gently nudged it into conformity.

I would venture to guess except for an occasional American Bison or coyote, few if any people have stood atop this shallow knoll. I may have been the first, maybe even the only one. For several hours I simply listened to the prairie wind whisper its calming message and the prairie birds sing their cheerful songs. There were no other sounds. Lost in a world all but foreign to most people, I stood ever so briefly alone, truly absorbed by the charity of calming rest offered across this landscape. The silence presented atop that shallow hill at least for a moment removed some of the distorting filters that fogged my everyday world. Ever so slowly the sharp impaling hooks embedded in my soul withdrew. I climbed a prairie hill one spring day to discover what was there. Along the way, I rediscovered who I was.

Embracing Simplicity

There is a photographic concept known as Simplicity of Purpose that I beleive is the heart and soul of what makes a great photograph. What it means is this: Everything in the photo is there for a reason with nothing being there that distracts from the intended story. In other words, keep your composition simple.

A painter starts with a blank canvas and adds the elements he desires to create the composition. A photographer on the other hand starts with a full visual canvas and must remove all the distracting elements so that only what is important is captured. This may be one of the most difficult things for a novice photographer to grasp. It sounds simple enough, but executing the technique requires the ability and experience to see beyond what is obvious, to comprehend visually what is necessary to create the image story.

Keeping your composition simple does not mean it lacks for a measure of complexity. Even a simple composition can be quite complex. What matters is that all of the corresponding complexity works together with no element(s) working against what you are trying to accomplish. The best compositions are the simplest ones. Part of your thought process when photographing must be to think in terms of simplifying your composition. There are simple ways of doing this.

One of the most effective ways is to use a zoom or telephoto lense. This kind of lense helps to isolate your main subject and also improves what is called depth of field...where the subject is in focus but the background is out of focus. A blurred background helps to simply your composition by eliminating distractions.

Try not to fixate on your subject to the point you are unaware of your surroundings. Always take notice of what is behind, and to either side and above. Situational awareness of whats happening within your field of view is a key mental process that is developed over time. By fixating on the subject and ignoring the surroundings, it is easy to not see distracting elements.

Placing your subject in front of a dark or light background is a great way to simplify your image. This can be done several ways including changing the angle of the shot or simply moving a step or two to one side. Again this is part of being aware of your surroundings approach to taking photos.

Use leading lines to take the viewer into the image. By itself, this technique will visually help to eliminate elements you may not be able to easily bypass in your composition.

On a more advanced note, when photographing a model an effective way to bring attention to your subject is to use a speedlight(s). By using a fast shutter that still syncs with your flash you can darken the background, and by using a more open aperture, you can use the light off the flash to highlight your subject.

Three words resound in my mind no matter what I am photographing; simplify, simplify, simplify. It is a vital and effect approach to creating amazing images that stand apart from the ordinary.

When It All Clicks Into Place

Not unlike writing when blocks of time drag on and the words simply do not come to life, photography can provide blocks of time when the pictures simply do not appear. I get discouraged at times when I am unable to see past the end of my lense. I tend to make excuses like the light is bad, or the composition is uninteresting. When that happens my motivation seems to wavier. I have stored my camera away for long periods of time because it just wasn't working. Even so, there resides within all artists, and photographers are indeed artists, the desire to create, and to create means to visualize what is not seen, to work past the blocks, and to achieve a level of accomplishment that is satisfying and rewarding. Those moments are the times when it all clicks into place and you know something magical just happened.

Making it all click into place takes a measure of effort not often realized by those who simply approach photography from a casual perspective. Such efforts are both rewarding and frustrating at the same time. Knowing what you want to create but being unable to do so plays on your confidense. So many times I find myself shaking my head knowing I am just not seeing it and the results prove it. Then there are those moments of insight when you see beyond the ordinary, when the light falls just right, when you create the moment with a vision that transcends what your senses simply see. That is when you rediscover why you do what you do.

You are the creator of the artistic vision that resides within. You are the one who must put all the pieces together to make it happen. Others can help you learn technique, but you create your own style and it is your style that brings your vision to life.  

You are a painter of light. You see what others do not, and you capture what others never pursue. You endure freezing weather, torrid heat, wind and rain. You climb high to place yourself in the best possible location, you lose sleep to be there at the best possible gathering of light. You make the difficult look easy, yet you are never satisfied continually seeking perfection. Somewhere deep inside, you understand what is required to capture that special moment...a moment when it all clicks into place.

Looking at the Problem With an Uncommon Approach

Not much more than two years ago I was afraid to use a speedlight...most people call them Flash, but after seeing hundreds of amazing images others made with their use I decided I would learn the hows and whys of their magic. Probably next to graduating into the digital world, it was one of the best decisions I've ever made as a photographer.

There are countless videos and articles explaining the in's and out's of the technical aspects of their use, so we won't go there in this article. Instead I'd like to briefly explore how using speedlights can help us to look upon an ordinary subject matter from another perspective, or use an uncommon approach to capturing a common object.

Ever since I was just a young lad I've been fascinated with airplanes of all kinds; jets, propeller types, small ones, large ones, helicopters, old ones, new ones, high tech ones...you name it and I've read about it. I love their history and the pioneers who broke new ground in their development. So, recently I asked myself why haven't I tried to photograph them more than I have. When I thought about it I realized just how rarely I had even made attempts to do such a thing and the few I did try turned out to be rather ordinary and clicheish with no artistic merit to them at all.

Not far from my house is a public park and in the park is a very nicely conceived and constructed Aviation Heritage Display where several historical war planes from the past are on display. I've visited it several time over the last few years and even snapped a few photos...they are buried some place deep inside my photographs folder.

One day recently I made plans to be on location just before dusk to try out an idea on capturing some unique images of these amazing aircraft. The problem that interfered with capturing good photos of the aircraft was how the background seemed to create a negative blend of distractions that would interfere with making a good photo.

My thought was to use speedlights as the main source of light and allow the background ambient light to dim down so those distractions would not be seen. I only had two flash units I could fire remotely, but figured they would do the job so I began to strategically place them around the old F9F Panther fighter jet of the Korean War era.


The idea here was to use the speedlights to create a unique set of artifical lighting conditions where I could control the angle, direction, and intensity of the light. It took several tries to find the right combinations, but the results proved interesting.

Afterward I moved over to the F111 Fighter/Bomber of Vietnam War vintage and performed much the same kind of experimenting. It being a larger aircraft reqired a different approach, but eventually I stumbled onto a combination that seemed to work.

I was encouraged by the results and the exercise proved again just how valuable trying something new can be. To capture these two aircraft the way I wanted to required that I look at the problem with an uncommon approach. What I learned is; even with the limited light from two remotely fired speedlights, one can generate an artistic piece of work from ordinary subjects. I also learned that three or four lights would have given me even more control and power over the moment. Now I'll have to find an uncommon approach to finance the purchase of the additional two lights.

Photographing Gentle Silence

In recent weeks I've been able to observe from time to time a couple of college students interacting with their friends. The interacting is not so unusual except virtually all of the interaction was done using text messaging. What struck me as odd was the amount of time these two spent with their eyes glued to their phone working those electronic keyboards. My thoughts were one of amazement and sorrow. It seemed these two were so fixated on their high tech gadgets, they failed to grasp just how much of their life was passing away. I once watched for over a half hour as this one person never once lifted an eye from that tiny glowing screen. Even more disconserting was that it continued way longer than the half hour I happened to watch.

I suppose one could compare it to someone who has to have some kind of music...noise really...playing around them all the time. Silence makes them feel uncomfortable. One might also interject that spending hours on end sending and receiving text messages is a kind of silent noise, not unlike the audible noise so many feel they must have in their life. It is like their minds are in a constant state of flux where it dare not slow down for fear of being left out.

Maybe I am unusual or maybe it is a bi-product of my generation, but I seem to crave silence more than noise. Could be too that is why I spend a lot of time in pursuit of captuing photographic art. Most visual arts including photography is a silent art. Once the image is captured and placed on display, it makes no audible sound, yet in many ways a photograph can interject a sense of noise through its interpretation of the visual composition. A good photograph will by its nature pull the viewer into the moment. By doing so the viewer will often hear what the visual effect is trying to portray.

One of my favorite things to do is to sit atop a high prairie knoll and simply allow the gentle part of the moment to fill my heart. The prairie is not silent, nor is it noisy. There is the subtle whisper of the wind as it swirls through the tops of the tall grasses. There are the prairie birds singing to the wind. There are sounds found there one cannot find elsewhere, yet they are so subtle, so soothing, they become a gentle silence.

I love photographing gentle silence.

A Season for Every Color - A Season for Black and White

Every season of the year provides its own unique combination of light and scenic value and all seasons carry their own color value forward into the next one. There is one season where black and white is king. That would be winter when light values shift between contrast and brightness.

The stark nature of winter lends itself well to black and white imagery. Trees are bare, reflections are crisp, skies can be clean and clear or filled with texture. Clouds draw wispy lines at high altitudes, or cover everything in a heavy blanket of rolling overcast.

When I am out searching for a dymanic scene to photograph, I will often attempt to see in black and white, or rather, I try to look beyond the distraction of color and visualize the scene as combination of contrasts and textures filled with varying degrees of brightness. It is not unusual for me to take a photo fully expecting to convert it into black and white. It is not always an easy process to accomplish, but with enough practice, one begins to see beyond the ordinary and extract visual clues from the environment that can be enhanced as a black and white.

Some of this process goes way back to my early days of photography when I would process film and develop B&W prints inside my closet darkroom simple images made from a vintage box camera and roll film. Those days turned out to be invaluable to my learning to see photographically. Doing so with black and white in mind helps to train your eye to see through the clutter and distractions and concentrate on what is truly important...shape, form, contrast, composition.

Listen With Your Eyes, Visualize with Your Heart

Not so long ago I had to endure countless hours sitting in dull, inspiration choking meetings. I won't hold back on how much I hated sitting there. Almost always the meeting would evolve into a Whaa Waahhaa Waaah, please, just shoot me now situation. I was hearing the words, but was not listening to what was being said...at times to my chagrin when I was asked to speak my insights on the discussion at hand...of which I had no clue of what had just been discussed.

Sometimes photography can be like that as well. There are days I hear with my eyes, but I am not listening, or seeing what is really there. I try to take a photo, but it is like I am clueless as to what I am seeing, what I am trying to accomplish.

The trick is to not allow yourself to fall into that state of mind where you hear, but do not listen, where you see, but do not visualize. Some of my best images have been random moments I stumble into. Those are rare. What I have discovered over the years is I can create more consistent quality images if I allow myself to listen with my eyes while I am visualizing with my heart.

The two work together. Using one or the other by itself will often fall short. If I listen with my eyes, but fail to visualize beyond what I am seeing, or if I try to visualize an image, but fail to observe, or listen to what I am seeing, the results are often sub-par.

In all honesty, I am not so sure I can fully explain this concept in such a way as to make it clear. The best way I suppose is to provide an example. Take the image shown above. The creek was running high and flowing over the top of the low water bridge. There was motion, there was the rushing sound of the water as it fell over the edge, there was the light, the reflections, the lines. It was the kind of scene one could easily miss because of the complexity of the visual references being presented.

As a photographer, my purpose is to find order amongst the chaos. In this instance I used a small zoom lense to tighten the visual look. I angled the camera to position the movement into an array of lines and angles. I let the light play across the textures of the flowing water and used a fast shutter to capture the moment. I listened with my eyes to what was being played out in front of me, and before I snapped the image, I saw the finsihed product as black and white in my heart.

Foreground: Establishing A Sense of Place

Landscape photography is all about creating a sense of place, a connection to home, to now. Oddly enough I bet I have hundreds of landscape shots whose images stretch to the far off horizon. More often than not, that is about all you see in those images...the horizon, which in and of itself does little to register a sense of place. What really creates a great landscape photograph is one that incorporates three basic elements: A Foreground; A Middle Ground; and a Background. All three are important, but it is the foreground that establishes that sense of home, of being there.

Establishing Place begins with the foreground elements. These closeup items help the viewer to ascertain what it was like to be standing in that location when the image was taken. An effectly composed foreground ties the viewer to the scene and can provide not only important visual clues, but can jump stir other sense stimulating elements into life, such as aroma, sound, and touch.

Take the image shown above. One can almost smell the damp prairie grass, hear the prairie wind, and feel the roughness of the rocky outcropping. It draws the eye into the image where it drifts across the rolling terrain to land on the horizon. Visually, you are there seeing, hearing, and feeling the same things the photographer saw and felt at the time.

When wanting to capture an effective landscape image, always begin with light, but anchor it with a strong foreground.

Snap Shots...They Really are Okay

Back almost 25 years ago a few buddies and I took a long multi-day float trip down the Buffalo River, one of many over the years, in Northwestern Arkansas. I guess we floated and camped for 3 or 4 nights and traveled 50 miles or so. Great fun we had getting away from work and enjoying doing what we enjoyed most doing...fishing and floating. While temporarily stopped beneath a place called The Nar's, a unique landmark about midway down the rivers route, I managed to catch the largest smallmouth bass I've ever caught. Man what a fight it was trying to muscle that fish out of a deep hole with a strong current swirling around. Once I lifted it clear of the water, I held it high to show it off with a giant grin on my younger face.

My buddy lifted his disposable 35mm camera and snapped a couple of snap shots to capture the moment. What he captured was more than a picture of a big fish, he spontaneously captured a great deal of emotional satisfaction.

All through this blog I write about how to take better pictures hoping that maybe someone might actually improve on their technique and discover the joys of creating amazing photographic art. In the process, sometimes I come across a bit critical of the Snap Shot. So, this blog post will sing the praises of such photographs, because...well, I have way more snap shots laying around than I do works of art, and you know what, I wouldn't trade them for anything.

You see, snap shots are just that; a quickly captured spur-of-the-moment moment. They have an uncanny ability to capture the thrill of the moment, the excitement of the catch, the surprise of it all. No posed or thought out image could ever capture the spontaneity of the snap shot.

Some years ago Kodak and Polaroid and maybe other camera/film producers marketed a whole series of quick use instant cameras. They were extremely popular and for good reason; you got to see your images within a minute or two. Teens loved them, they were great party cameras. Most important was the fact that millions of spontaneous photos were taken, just for fun, and they were amazing.

Today I will look back on all the snap shots I took and can in an instant recapture the moment. I remember places, names, events, and most of the dates when each of those images were created. I have stacked on a bookshelf a dozen or more photo albums, some I call Brag'n Books, stuffed with hundreds and hundreds of mostly snap shots. Oddly enough, I don't have more than maybe a half dozen individual 'Art Works' photos displayed anywhere. And, you know what...the snap shot images are a lot more fun to browse through.

So, if you ever read anything of mine where it sounds like I am being critical of the snap shot, think of it only as a basis of comparison when trying to discuss how to take fine art images. I love snap shots, probably more now than I ever did back when I originally took them. They really are Okay..:)