ESTABLISHED 2010 - Beyond The Campfire was created to encourage readers to explore the great outdoors and to observe it close up. Get out and take a hike, go fishing or canoeing, or simply stretch out on a blanket under a summer sky...and take your camera along. We'll talk about combining outdoor activities with photography. We'll look at everything from improving your understanding of the basics of photography to more advanced techniques including things like how to see photographically and capturing the light. We'll explore the night sky, location shoots, using off camera speedlights along with nature and landscape. Grab your camera...strap on your hiking boots...and join me. I think you will enjoy the adventure.

Tuesday, July 12, 2016

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.


Saturday, June 25, 2016

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.




Saturday, April 9, 2016

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

Friday, April 8, 2016

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.



Monday, April 4, 2016

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.

Friday, April 1, 2016

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.

Saturday, March 26, 2016

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.





Tuesday, March 22, 2016

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.

Tuesday, March 15, 2016

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.

Sunday, March 13, 2016

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.

Friday, February 26, 2016

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.




Monday, February 22, 2016

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.

Tuesday, February 9, 2016

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.

Wednesday, February 3, 2016

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..:)

Sunday, January 31, 2016

Dad's and Sons and BB Guns

My boys were a lot more fun when they were younger than they are now. Both are pretty well grown up with one about to finish college looking to make his mark on the world and the other has been scribbling his mark for several years now in his own way. When I think back on it there are times I wish I could have hit the PAUSE button to slow down the progression of time and enjoy those younger moments more thoroughly. That was back in the day before digital cameras were available and before I began to pursue photography in eanest. Thank God for those cheap disposable film cameras, for without the priceless visual memories created with their help, those memories would only be...memories.

I'll never forget that Christmas I bought the boys a BB-Gun...A Daisy Red Rider, one of the classics. I still use it today all these years later mostly to plink a pop can or two or pop the rear ends of troublesome dogs to scare them off. It still shoots almost straight and level, enough anyway to hit a pop can with it.

That year Christmas it was bitter cold back in Oklahoma with snow actually still on the ground, which is rare that time of year even for that part of the country. We bundled up and stepped into our tiny backyard and setup a pop can or two for them to shoot at. After some instructions and safety no-no's. I knelt behind them to help steady their aim and let them have it. The excitement in their eyes when they heard than can go Clank! when a BB struck home was worth the cold fingers and runny noses.  I still love to hear the clank of a pop can when I shoot it.


There is just something about Dad's, BB-Guns, and boys. A right of passage offered to us as one of the most perfect of bonding times. Grand adventures play out in their minds, I know this to be true because I did the same thing when I was a kid. That BB-Gun I owned was probably one of the greatest imagination expanding tools ever invented. Not only did it open up great adventures it taught me reponsibility. BB-Guns are not toys and need to be treated as such. Even young boys can learn about such things.


Through every season, numerous times I monitored their activity with the BB-Gun until they were old enough to shoot on their own. That tiny backyard transformed into big game hunting, Olympic style target shooting, and just plain-ole fun of shooting a can. Hot or cold we found time to shoot in the backyard...not often enough I now realize, but at least we have those moments.


In time we graduated to going squirrel hunting. Tim the oldest got to carry a single shot 22 rifle, and Christopher, not quite big enough to handle such a gun got to carry the BB-gun. We hiked across a grassy field almost as tall as Christopher and he wasn't too happy about it, but all of that changed once we got to the squirrel spot. There was a small creek barely wide enough to call it a creek that meandered through a tnagle (that is tnagle not tangel) of woods. We saw a squirrel or two but never got to shoot one, but man-o-man did they have fun. Great times they were, and alas, not often enough did we do such things. Where is that PAUSE button when a DAD really needs one.

Too often life interferes with..well...life. Work, responsibility, bills, mortgage...you know the drill. All important elements of being a dad that cannot be ignored. Too often though they tend to take up a disproportionant amount of time, resources, and energy to be able to truly pursue those memory making moments.


I am thankful for that BB-Gun and the perfect times it created back then. In my older age now I realize a missing PAUSE button was not the problem...I was...for not making more time, but at least we do have those old grainy disposable camera film pictures.


Friday, January 22, 2016

So...Why do My Snow Pictures Look Gray?

It's snowing in Kentucky at the moment. Not just any ordinary snow, but one of the heaviest snow falls in this part of the country in quite some time. It's still coming down and we're showing between 11 and 12 inches with another inch or two expected before the storm finally sweeps on east. Over the next day or so, locations east of us will receive upwards to 2 feet of snow breaking long standing records.  Last year we had a late but big snow as well...not this big, but beautiful.

From 2015

I managed to get out for while this morning. Conditons were not very good for taking picutres, tomorrow will be better after it clears off some, but it was fun to drive around in a real blizzard. Driving a 4-wheel drive Jeep makes blizzard driving a whole lot easier and safer. Also managed to take a few pictures along the way. Snapshots mostly, not worrying too much about exposure, just trying to capture the blizzard while it was happening. A short time later I downloaded the images and as I expected, most of that beautiful white snow looked dingy gray. I suspect this happens a lot out there. So here is a short primer on why your camera tends to turn white snow gray.

Digital cameras with all their high tech standards built in have no clue what it is looking at. It could care less if you are shooting a sunset, a brick wall, a beach, or a snow scene. When you are shooting in one of the AUTO modes, and that includes Aperture or Shutter Priority, it wants to move the exposure to a middle value.

Examine the gray scale chart below.  Notice how the scale goes from pure white on the left to solid black on the right with the middle bar being a neutral value gray with varying degrees of shade between. What your AUTO exposure wants to do is move your exposure to the middle where that neutral gray value resides. It reads the light, then sets the exposure for a middle tone value, an average in reality. This average exposure tends to work just fine when you are photographing a scene with varying degrees of tonal variations, but when you are photographing a field of snow that is mostly white, well, that average exposure is really gray. There are other factors involved including time of day, whether it is overcast or sunny, but for the most part this is why your snow pictures look gray.



So, how do we get around that situation? Look at these two images. What is different about them? The first one is an AUTO exposure out of camera shot, while the second one used what is called Exposure Compensation. The first one is quite gray looking while the other retains a more realiztic looking white about it. The light was the same and they were taken just seconds apart. So why is one gray and the other more white in appearance?

Camera AUTO Exposure

Camera +1 Exposure Compensation

Ever notice that little +/- button usually located on the top or back of your camera? That little button is purhaps the most useful function on your camera. The only button I use more is the shutter release button.


This +/- button is used to tell the camera to compensate up or down from the exposure value it wants to set. If you want your snow to look more white, then dial in a + value...something in the neighborhood of a +1 give or take. This will tell your camera to go ahead and select the exposure value it wants to use, then compensate that value a full STOP brighter. What happens is your gray snow images will shift more toward looking white, like the second image above. Actually there are a lot of factors involved and it takes some trial and error to get it to work right for any given lighting situation, but that is the simple explanation of why your snow pictures will often look nice and bright to your eye, but turn out gray on your pictures.

Sunday, January 17, 2016

The Old Guard

On January 29th a new action adventure movie will be released. It is based on a true story, the best kind of movie stories. It is an adventure about courage and dedication and one that strikes a personal note. The movie is The Finest Hours staring Christopher Pine. The event happened way back in 1952 on the East coast during a terrible storm where a Coast Guard small boat crew executes what is considered the most daring small boat rescue in Coast Guard History.


From September 1973 until August 1977 I spent four years in the U.S. Coast Guard. Those few years became the defining moment of my young adult life, moments that still affect who I am today. Of all the events of my life, nothing retains the level of influence gained from those experiences. They were difficult, challenging, and at times dangerous, yet I would not trade those days for anything.

Most of my tenure in the Coast Guard was spent at the Umpqua River Lifeboat Station located at Winchester Bay, Oregon. Winchester Bay was a small coastal community about one third of the way up the Oregon coast from the California border. With a vibrant commercial fishing fleet, it was also known as a popular vacation spot with miles of ancient sand dunes and unspoiled rustic beaches. At the time, hundreds of personal small craft owners would migrate to this location between Memorial Day and Labor Day. As a result, we were understandably very busy during this period. Back then, with a crew of about 24 or 25, we averaged around 400 SAR's, or Search and Rescues, per year, most of them occuring between those dates. Most of them were routine, but some were in fact life and death challenges.

One of our 44 footers
The Umpqua River Bar crossing has the dubious reputation of being one of the most dangerous crossings on the west coast. At times, when conditions are good, you can water ski across it. But when things turn bad as they often did, the bar turned into a hellish boiling mass of twenty, sometimes as high as thirty foot breakers collasping in multiple rows across the entrance channel. To combat these conditions we operated two 44 foot motorlife boats (MLB); the CG44303 and the CG44331. We also had one of the last wooden hulled 36 foot MLB still in commission, the CG36498. This is the same kind of rescue boat depicted in the movie. It's designation was CG36500, from the same construction lineage as our 36498.

(The following video depicts the CG44303 in action on the Umpqua River Bar as filmed for the Lassie series episode 'Tempest' back in the mid-1960's. This sequence heavily influenced my decision to join the Coast Guard and by chance I happened to end up at the same location.)


The 44's were remarkable craft and could perform a 360 degree roll in heavy surf and still complete the mission. They were designed to bulldog their way through the surf, maneuver on a dime, and execute dangerous rescues in adverse conditions. They were powerful, nimble, ruggedly capable rescue boats, but they were slow with a top speed of around 15 knots (about 20mph).

There was a phrase passed around back then about someone who had been in the Coast Guard for a long time, long enough to have witnessed a great deal of change. They were from 'The Old Guard'. Today's Coast Guard is a more high tech, highly motivated service. They still operate out of Winchester Bay, only today they run around in the newer 47 foot Motor Lifeboats. These vessels are very fast, highly capable rescue boats in their own right, but they are of the New Guard generation. From what I understand, the number of SAR's at Winchester Bay today averages around 40 or so per year, more a result of the economic times, and better trained private boat operators than anything else.

One of the New 47 Footers
There are times I remember back to those days and realize that our crew was the vanguard of a newer class of Old Guard personnel. We didn't feel it at the time, but as the years have passed, one begins to realize just how Old Guard we really were. We relied more on 'seat of the pants skill' than high tech equipment. Of the hundreds of small craft owners we towed back to the harbor, few probably realize just how fortunate they were for us to have been there. Stranded as they may have been, things could have turned dangerous very quickly without our intervention. There were times we had boats catch on fire, several capsizings with people in the water, boats lost in thick fog not knowing what to do. We also had one serious situation where one of the smaller commercial trawlers, the Holmes, got caught in heavy surf trying to cross the bar and was eventually battered against the ominous black rocks of the South Jetty. A crew on the 44303 pulled them off just seconds before the Holmes was shattered into kindling wood; a daring and dangerous rescue it was in deed.

Harmony under Tow
We also had the severed thumb or broken finger calls, and one I was directly involved in, a heart attack
victim who had collapsed onboard the fshing vessel Poky. Our crew received commendation for that one. And then the time the large trawler Harmony broke down during stormy weather and we had to head out and tow them back to safety. It was a nasty long and wet ride.

Yeah, the Old Guard helped to build a lot of character for a lot of searching young men back then, To see a movie come out that focuses on the achievements of a previous generation of Old Guard crewmates, well, it does one good. I hope many of you will find the time to watch this new movie and hopefully it will give you a greater respect for a branch of the military few think much about. They are unsung hereos often going into harms way in obscurity. It's good to see them receive some recognition.

Friday, January 8, 2016

Ancient Native American Effigy - Or - Just a Rock

Effigy or a Rock

Even from an early age I was fascinated with ancient history. I remember when I was, oh...maybe eight or nine years old back where I grew up in southeastern Oklahoma, I found a thin oval shaped rock sitting in the bottom of my grandfather's filing cabinet behind the cash register in his store. It was about eight or ten inches long and maybe six or eight inches wide and maybe slightly more than an inch thick. I began to examine its smooth surface, at first it simply looked like a typical flat river rock, but as I examined it more closely, I noticed some weathered etchings on one side. My fingers rolled over the indentations and I turned it one way and another trying to make out what was there. I asked my grandmother, "What is this?"

 "Just an old river rock your grandfather found on Caston Creek a long time ago with maybe some kind of Indian markings on it," she said.

Indian markings? What could they mean? As my adventurous boyhood mind played with that idea, I began to see what I believed to be a man on a horse holding a spear. Probably fancyful wishful-thinking mind images, but that is what I remember. Even at that age I knew a little about history and understood that in the late 1500's and early 1600's, Spanish and French explorers had indeed traveled through that part of Oklahoma.

 "Looks like someone riding a horse carrying a spear. I wonder if someone with Coronado or La Salle stopped by here and one of them made these marks on this rock," I asked.

My grandmother, stopped what she was doing and took the rock from me to carefully examined it.

"Maybe", she said, "Just looks like an old river rock to me."

I never knew what happened to that old rock. Too many more important things came about in the years following that discovery and somewhere during all the changes it was lost or tossed out, or seems like I remember my grandmother saying she thought she gave it to the curator of the county museum. No telling where it is now. But, that single moment of mindful intrigue triggered a lifelong fascination with people and events from the past.

A few days ago I left my camera at home and drove over to a fishing creek just to walk around and get out of the house. The water flowed with a rapid pace, clear and cold, like the air that day. As I walked methodically along the gravel bank I glanced here and there hoping to find an arrowhead. After a while with no luck, I was just about to leave when I decided to walk along a much smaller feeder stream that angled along the bottom of a bluff to merge with the main creek. I was getting a bit tired by then and worked my way along the narrow channel more quickly than I should have. When I came to where the two joined together, I decided to give up, turned and took a few steps when I noticed lying face up what appeared to be a large spear point. Its color and shape blended with the background gravel so well I almost missed seeing it. I picked it up and checked for the tell-tell signs that someone had hand worked the flint of which there were good indicators of flint napping and edge working. It looked like it was a rather crude point, roughly made and not pristine with the tip broken and almost had the appearance of being discarded before it was finished, but definitely hand worked.

For a few moments I pondered on who that person was, what was he doing there, and how long ago it might have been. Amazing really if you think about it. Possibly thousands of years ago someone sat near this creek and made this stone artifact and somehow it ended up lying embedded amongst the gravel of this small feeder stream for me to eventually discover. What was life like for him? Was he alone? Did he have a family? Did he live in a village or was this just a hunting campsite? Was this flint spear point ever used to kill an animal, and if so, what kind?

I was encouraged by the find and continued my exploration working my way a bit further down the gravel bank along the main creek. Nothing new presented itself so once again I headed back to my Jeep. About ten yards from where I found the spear point I noticed partially buried in a muddier part of the bank an unusual looking rock. It just looked out of place there. Its color, a rusty reddish brown, and its shape were not typical of the river rocks found in that area. I picked it up and my first thought was...hum...what is this? Certainly it is not a naturally weathered rock. It looked to be made out of a type of sandstone, but felt like it was of a harder substance and indicated signs of having been hand worked. 


Front View - See the arched area across the front right bottom and the notch on the bottom left.
Right Side View
Top View ( See the drilled half holes, one on the left run straight down thru the figure and the one on the right side was drilled at an angle in the opposite direction. The overall appearance looks to be squared off with various right angle polished surfaces.
Hand Held angled view - A stylized bear purhaps

There were what appeared to be two unique half circle holes about 3/4 of an inch in diameter drilled at opposite angles to each other, two flat polished surfaces at right angles to each other that formed a triangular blocked surface on the left side with one of the half circle holes drilled through it.. Another curved area that appeared to have been honed down arched across the bottom and connected with one of the drilled half holes. A smaller notch on the bottom left created what looks like a leg, and a flange on what appeared to be the top looked like an ear protruding. The outer edges appeared to be squared off for the most part and the back and bottom look like they were still in a natural state. When holding it from what appears to be the front, one can see that just possibly it could be some kind of Native American effigy. 

A boy's imagination running away...again?  Maybe, but I've seen and held a lot of rocks in my day and I have never seen a naturally weathered rock to have all of these features on the same rock. Those polished squared off sections are pretty rare I would believe in the natural world, and for it to also have what looks like 3/4 inch wide drilled holes, to me, it looks like it was purposefully carved. The photo's do not do it justice for it is a very striking figure and when held at a certain angle, I can see a stylized bear.

I do know that many prehistoric Native cultures created stylized art work, some more detailed than others. This particular piece, although probably buried for who knows how long, having been found along a creek bank was subjected to at least some wear and tear from sand and water flowing on and around it. It could quite possibly have had part of it broken off as a result. The area where this piece was discovered would have been an ideal location for an ancient tribe to have lived; plenty of clean water, protection from the elements, fish and wild game in the area.

Is this find really an ancient artifact? I've certainly never seen anything like it before. Only an expert could truly determine if it is, but, for now, I'll let the nine year old boy's imagination that still resides in me believe that it is.

Tuesday, January 5, 2016

Same Flower - Three Looks: The Difference Between Ordinary, Pretty Good, and Extraordinary

It became one of my favorite images, but almost did not happen. Back in the day when I was still shooting film, transparency film to be more specific, I happened across a situation where I had one image left on the roll with a potentially great shot developing. In front of me alongside a country road stretched a long row of Queenannes Lace blooms. In the distance a low rolling horizon rose up to meet the setting sun which hovered just above the ridge. Subdued by a thick hazy layer the sun turned into a orange ball. My thought was to zoom in tight on the bloom and center it against that orange ball. I could only visualize the final image, but knew what I wanted and set the exposure to what I believed would produce the expected results. Problem was, I could not easily line up the shot because of a barbed wire fence. I stooped low through the wire, stretched as far as I could but just could not get the alignment I wanted without falling. I leaned a few inches more and rotated the camera but could only partially align the bloom against the setting sun which was rapidly about to dip too low. I fired off the shot hoping for the best. The final results turned out far better than I imagined.

This image became a good example of what I mean when I explain to novice photographers 'never settle for the ordinary'. Often they become fixated on the object thinking that the object by itself is what creates the great image. Too often they neglect to think in terms of photographing light. There is a difference between ordinary, pretty good, and extraordinary, and as photographers we should always pursue the extraordinary.

Ordinary
Ordinary, when it comes to nature photography, tends to have that fundamental look about it. It may very well be a good technical image and capture the basic appearance of the object, but, more often than not it looks like something that would be used in a Text Book, a documentary image of sorts, where the light falls upon the image.

Pretty Good
Pretty Good is a step in the right direction where light has been used to enhance the basic beauty of the object. It certainly provides a more interesting viewpoint, but there is more available to capture. As a photographer, if I stopped at Pretty Good, I would have left myself short realizing that anyone, even a novice can capture Pretty Good. There is always another look, another example, another opportunity to use light in an artistic manner, and that is what we seek to discover.

Extraordinary
To capture the Extraordinary, one must look well beyond the obvious and visualize the potential of what is there. Even simple objects in ordinary circumstances can become extraordinary images with a bit of creative vision. One must also understand how the camera captures light, knowing why that white field of snow looks gray in your image, or why that deep blue sky looks pale and washed out. This idea takes you deeper, it stretches your thought process broader into the realm of becoming an artist, someone who has a command of the tools they use, someone with a vision vs simply being a photographer of things. It takes practice and a willingness to try something new, something different. It may require you to learn more about how your camera actually does what it does and why it does so, instead of just accepting what the out of box configuration gives you.

Same flower, three perspectives. The difference between Ordinary, Pretty Good, and Extraordinary is often just a few inches away, a different angle of light, another perspective, or coming back a second or third time to discover the right combination of light, object, and circumstance. What you will find is that even though Extraordinary seems hard and difficult to master, the potential for doing so is endless.