Just sit'n 'n Look'n

There are times I often just sit with my camera in hand and not move from one location.  Sometimes it's on my front porch...sometimes the swing in the back...other times I may be off someplace.  The reason I do this is to help hone my photographic eye.   When you sit in one place long enough, and start looking for something to photograph just from where you are at that moment, then it forces you to look for subtle details and focus in on simple things that you might otherwise overlook.

Photography is, after all, 90% seeing (or looking).  Many novice photographers will often neglect to look for smaller, more subtle things to photograph and instead concentrate on the big obvious things.  Certainly, big obvious things can make for some dramatic photographs, but my take on it is all those things are made up of a series of smaller things...which in many cases are actually more interesting and more importantly, more simple.

The most effective photographs are the one that retain that element of simplicity...not so much lack of complex details...but a simplicity that defines the most important elements that caught your attention to begin with.  Instead of the big complex sunset...photograph the effects of the soft warm light of a setting sun on objects around you.  Look for shape, form, and texture...and the interplay of light and shadows...color and contrast...line and angles.

It sounds simple and that's because...well it is.  You might be surprised at what subject matter will catch your attention and just how something that you might otherwise never give a second thought just might provide a really great photo op...

Keith

Above and Beyond the Call of Duty

Seagulls are about the most irritating birds known to mankind.

Back in the mid-1970's I spent four years in U.S. Coast Guard...most of that time was spent doing search and rescue stuff at the Umpqua River Lifeboat Station out of Winchester Bay, Oregon.  Two and half years into that mission an opportunity arose where I could become part of the very first ANT Team...(Aides to Navigation Team)...operating out of Charleston, Oregon.  After some pondering, in 1976 I decided to take the offer and within a few weeks I mustered away from Winchester Bay and settled into my new job of helping build and establish this new concept of an aides to navigation team.  As best as I can make out, I may have been the very first person selected for this team...or at the very least one of first two...We eventually ended up with a crew of about six.

ANT Coos Bay Station

This new ANT team was responsible for all the navigational aides for over a 200 mile stretch along the Oregon coast from Depoe Bay to Brookings and included maintenance of an array of lights, ranges, buoys, beacons, small boat warning indicators, and most fun of all...three lighthouses.  It required a lot of travel and I even spent two weeks at Governors Island in New York City at the CG Training center for some in depth technical training on exactly how to maintain all that high tech gadgetry.  Unfortunately, one thing they did not train us for was how to deal with seagulls.

There was this time we had to change out the batteries for a channel marker light/beacon in the middle of, if I remember correctly, the Newport estuary about a hundred miles or so up the coast from Charleston.  This was no easy task as this particular light was located well out into the channel atop a 40 foot tall flat bed tower.  These batteries were about the same size and weight as a large car battery but only produced 1.5 volts as opposed to 12 volts.  Because of their size and low voltage, they retained a long service life, but had to be hooked up in a series so as generate enough voltage to the work the beacon light.  Each light as I remember took around 8 or 9 of these batteries.

Well, we had to haul all that stuff up the coast along with our Monarch service boat, then load it all, and motor a couple miles out to the tower.  There were three of us assigned to this particular task on that day.  Our plan was for two of us, me and one of the other guys, to climb to the platform 40 feet above the water and lower a rope.  The third member was to then tie off each battery, one at a time, and we would then pull them up by hand.  They were quite heavy by the way and it was a difficult chore to do this eight or nine times.

Well, as we began our climb to the top we noticed an unusually large number of seagulls gathering around us...circling and squawking.  When we reached the top we discovered a pair of juvenile gulls sitting on a nest atop the battery box.  I never thought about it before then, but I guess I never knew seagulls built nests like that...even so, it was quite large as were the juvenile gulls.  They were about the goofiest looking things I've ever seen...all fluffed up and dirty gray in color.

Apparently momma gull and poppa gull didn't take kindly to us being there and they began to dive bomb us with very menacing swoops coming quite close to our heads.  It sounds funny, but it was actually quite dangerous being so high up on a small platform one could easily lose balance and take a tumble, plus once we started hauling those heavy batteries up, we could not let go of the rope without placing our partner below in jeopardy.  When we got too close to the nest, they would attack us even more...and the hundreds of other gulls swarming around us made for one very loud and precarious situation.

The only way we could haul the batteries up was for one guy to stand guard and wave his coat at the attacking seagulls to keep them at bay.  In time we finally did get all the batteries up to the platform...only now we had to replace the old ones.  No easy task as the nest was on top of the box...and the two juvenile gulls got rather agitated once we approached them and began to strike out at us if we got to close and momma and poppa got even more agitated.

Apparently gulls are protected by some federal law or something for some reason...I can't imagine why...there are millions of them...about half of which by then were swarming around us...and they were not to be injured or molested...but we had to change out those batteries or this rather important navigational aide would go dead in a matter of days.  We radioed the Newport Coast Guard station and informed them of our situation.

After the laughter at the Newport Station died down, we were told to move the nest without disturbing the juvenile gulls as best as we could.  Now we were laughing as they clearly didn't understand the situation as we were experiencing it.  Oh well...not for us to wonder why...but for us to do or die...or some cliche-ish thing like that anyway.

By this time our third crew member had climbed up to see what all the fuss was about.  And being the highly trained Coast Guard sailors we were, we formulated a plan.  While one stood guard and waved a coat at any attacking gulls from the air, the other two were to slowing slide the nest off the box...it did not go well.

Mom and pop gull got really agitated which only further agitated the little gulls in the nest and they began to strike out at us...they got sharp little beaks...and they started to flap around like the devil was after them.  Both fell off the nest, one flopping around so violently, he fell off the platform and landed in the water 40 feet below...so much for the not to be molested thing.  The other ended up sulking in a corner...which suited us just fine.

We hurriedly disconnected the old batteries...reconnected the new set and tested the hook up...all the while being protected by the flailing coat overhead.  With that completed...our third member climbed back down to the boat, and we lowered...one by one...the old batteries.  We replaced the nest and captured the one remaining juvenile gull by throwing the coat over him and replaced him back in the nest.  Then came the scariest part of the ordeal...we had to climb back down that tower all the while having hundreds of gulls swarming and diving at us. Having successfully completed that maneuver, we made a hasty retreat.

I've always thought we should have been rewarded some kind of medal or something for performance under fire above and beyond the call of duty for what we went through...at least some kind of commendation for valor.  Alas, all we got were mere chuckles, chortles, and down right laughter once we returned to home base and relived the events of the day with the rest of our crew....Oh...and by the way...that one juvenile who fell off the platform...he was last seen swimming away none the worse for the wear...I'm sure he fathered many dozens of other obnoxious seagulls in his days...telling them all about the time he had to fight off those two legged intruders who threatened his home...I bet he even got a medal for it.

Keith

When You Can't Get Out

Just finished up a photography workshop a couple weeks ago and it went pretty well with some help from our local photography club.  Had about 25 people participate plus 5 or six from the club who helped out with some technical support...much appreciated as well.

Similar to what I am suffering thru.  Mine are more Prevalent along the side and ribs

A few days later I noticed some pain in my side...it felt like I had either strained something or had been kicked in the ribs...neither of which had any basis for having occurred.  The pain progressively grew worse over the next few days and by the next Monday morning I was hurting pretty badly.  By that evening I noticed a rash developing along my ribs and middle part of the left side on the back.  Shingles...that was my first assumption which was verified the next morning at the clinic. Shingles are caused by the chicken pox virus that most of us get when we are kids.  It lies dormant in the nerve cells for decades sometimes and then get trigger when your immune system gets compromised for some reason.  When they surface the rash or blisters follow the nerve lines that radiate from the spine and wrap around to the front.  The result is  a very painful experience with not only the burning from the blisters and rash, but severe pain deeper down in the tissue and nerve paths.  This causes that kicked in the ribs feeling. Shingles can cause a lot of problems if not care for properly, plus you can pass chicken pox to anyone who has not had them, which would not be a good thing. For the rest of the week they grew progressively worse and more painful...so much so I had to stay home and try to work from home...it was a hopeless cause.

In order to control the pain I had to take some powerful medication which produced numerous side effects like dizziness, wooziness, sleepiness, and assorted other complications too numerous to list.  It was bad enough to suffer through the effects of the ailment, but what really hurt was seeing these amazing mornings go to waste because I just was unable to get out.  Some of the best morning light yet for the season with fog and hazy mist hanging in the air and the first light of day being filtered through this mixture.  Man it really hurt in more ways than one.

But, I suppose that is the way life goes...you win some and you lose some.  This week I lost, but there will but there will be other morning like these to come and I hope to make up for lost time.  I am still hurting from this out break, but they are starting to subside some now and hopefully in another week or so I'll be well enough to get out and enjoy these marvelous Kentucky mornings.

Keith

Buster

Recently a friend of mine had to put to sleep a very dear pet dog.  She was visibly upset at having had to do such a thing as she and her family were very attached to this little dog.  It brought back memories of my own from some years ago now when I faced a similar situation.  The only difference was my little dog graced our home for only three days...but those three days were as trying as any I've ever had to face.  Here is the story I wrote shortly after having to endure a very difficult situation.

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I must be getting softhearted in my old age, because what transpired over that Labor Day weekend stirred emotions I thought long ago dormant. It was a tough lesson to endure, but one learned only by gazing through sorrowful windows into the lives of the most innocent.


I named him Buster, a fine looking Brittany pup, with his floppy ears and freckles across his muzzle. He was plump and fuzzy, bright-eyed and clumsy like most puppies with paws too large for his body. My wife and kids fell in love with him right away. Complete with hunting genetics, the odds were excellent he would become a fine birddog and hunting companion.


I picked him up in Tulsa on Saturday, the first day of Labor Day weekend. He appeared unsure of himself on the two hour drive to my home in Edmond, Oklahoma. By the time we arrived, his puppy nature took over and he started to survey his new surroundings. 


Our other dog Sadie, a mixed breed of gentle temperament, wasn’t quite sure what to make of this intruder, but she quickly adjusted and accepted Buster as a new playmate.


The next morning was opening day of dove season. My brother Ken, and long time hunting partner Rocky, made the drive over and were eager to try out my new dove location. That evening as they admired the new pup, I beamed with pride like a new dad.


We left early the next morning figuring we would return well before noon, so I didn’t worry too much about Buster having run of the house. My wife, who was still in Tulsa, was not happy about that after she found out Buster had left a few calling cards...oops.


Not long after returning from our morning hunt, I realized Buster wasn’t showing the spunk of the day before. I thought it was just a reaction to the vaccinations. I tried calling our veterinarian, but getting hold of him was difficult on a holiday weekend. I wasn’t all that worried and by that evening he was acting like most puppies, romping and stomping and playing with the kids. We had a little fun that evening after I discovered one of the doves taken that afternoon was still alive, so I hid it in the flower garden and called Buster over. His hunting instinct kicked in and he became extremely birdie with his stubby tail buzzing with excitement as he worked his head from side to side trying to lock in on the scent.


He slept without a peep that night on an old pair of my pajama bottoms he took a liking to, and when I awoke the next morning he was sitting beside my bed looking up at me floppy-eared and wide-eyed. We made a quick run outside and he did his business. He was obviously a fast learner. By mid-morning things began to change. He started to vomit and his diarrhea became more pronounced. I noticed some blood in his stool and immediately called our veterinarian. He told me to give him Pedialyte every hour or so in small amounts and not to feed him anything, then bring him in the next morning.


It was a long, difficult night. I slept beside him, so I could monitor his activities was my excuse, when in reality I was worried about the little feller. Hour by hour his symptoms worsened and by the time the veterinarian saw him, Buster was seriously ill. It didn’t take long for a diagnosis. Parvovirus; a serious infection that attacks the lining of the intestines. Buster had more than likely contracted the virus the week before I picked him up, but the symptoms only became prevalent a day or so later, but he was not yet in critical condition, so there was a chance, slim as it was, that he would recover. After an I/V of glucose and a shot of penicillin to combat secondary infections, we took him home with the hope he would show some improvement by morning.


That evening as I lay beside him and stroked his neck and shoulder, my heart ached each time his emaciated sides would heave. He was so helpless and so frail and was so sick. I wanted to make it all go away, but could do nothing except give him fluids a tablespoon at a time and gently pet his now painfully thin shoulders. As he lay on that old pair of pajamas, I extended my arm along his side. He lifted his head and placed it across my hand as though he found comfort in knowing I was there. By 4:00 AM he took a turn for the worse and began to vomit more regularly and his stools became a stream of blood. My heartache turned into heartbreak. We rushed him to the veterinarian the next morning and right away he said it did not look good. Further treatment would only prolong his suffering, and as difficult as it was, we all knew what had to be done.


As the veterinarian shaved a patch on Buster’s forearm to expose a blood vessel for the injection that would end his suffering, Buster lifted his head one final time and looked at us with hollow, but trusting eyes, not comprehending what was about to happen. I gently stroked his back and scratched his ears just before his last breath left him. It was a hard moment. My wife sobbed out loud as we left the room, and I discovered that growing softhearted in my old age is not such a bad thing, and I unashamedly broke down, fighting back the lump in my throat and wiping blurry images from my eyes.


That nine week old runt of a puppy captured my heart like nothing else could, and to watch him suffer stabbed at my emotions exposing a softness and compassion I never knew existed. Maybe it was because he was a puppy with that unbridled exuberance found only in innocence, or maybe it happened during those few hours before he fell ill when he pounced and romped, and stole forever any ability to look upon him as anything but a family member.


Our life together could be measured in hours, but what I learned from him will influence the rest of my life. Through all of his suffering, he never once whimpered. Through all of the discomfort, he took it in stride and demonstrated through hurting eyes that he still trusted us. Maybe it was because he did trust us that somehow we felt in our hearts that we failed him. Many things in life are difficult to deal with, but such a thought adds additional weight to painful memories that even time will find difficult to remove.


I left his tiny body in a grave surrounded by late summer wildflowers that were caressed by a gentle breeze rolling across the Oklahoma prairie. It was a quiet, peaceful place where we would have hunted had he lived.


Through his courage, I learned a great deal about myself. Through his suffering, I understand, more clearly now, about the bond between a hunter and his dog, a bond forged by adversity and tempered with grief. My two sons learned a valuable lesson as well, one about trust, loyalty and compassion, and that some lessons in life are difficult. 


Another bird dog will come my way someday, and with him, a lifetime of memories, but only one little pup named Buster will retain that special memory. As difficult as some memories are, good things often come from them, like rekindling dormant emotions and growing softhearted in the face of misfortune. By experiencing such things, I am no longer an ordinary person poor of spirit, but a transformed individual rich in understanding.



Keith R. Bridgman 

My Top Three Favorite Photoshoots

Photography lends itself well to a wide variety of activities.  Most of us will over time migrate our photography toward the things we enjoy doing...I'm no different.  I've tried a lot of different kinds of photography but tend to focus in on nature photography as it more closely follows the kinds of things I enjoy doing anyway and so it became a natural extension of those activities.  Even so, I can name three distinct photo shoots that I probably enjoyed the most...and all three of them were different.

Number three on my most favorite photo shoots list involved oddly enough photographing a local event...Bowling Green's International Festival that occurs late in the summer every year down on the circus square area.  It's a great venue with all kinds of people and performances...and a target rich environment photographically speaking.  There is a lot of energy, lots of color, tremendous variety, and actually a lot of talent...some of which is quite unique.  Take for instance the belly dancers.  Yeah...yeah...I know what you're thinking and it ain't so...but I did find the performance quite entertaining and very tastefully done.  The young ladies were very talented and very expressive...and that made for an interesting photo shoot.  But, the festival involved more than belly dancers...there were the Flamenco dancers...wow talk about intense energy...the Chinese dancers...bands of all kinds...Indonesian dancers...even a Native American dancer...a lots more.  I have really enjoyed the festival for the last three years.

Number two on my list is the Tallgrass Prairie of Oklahoma.  This involves a series of shoots really, not just one shoot as you could never fully capture this place on just one visit.  Just thumb through my blog long enough and you will find several articles relating to this location.  It is perhaps the most underutilized resource photographically that I am aware of...and that suits me just fine.  It is an amazing location with a rich and diverse history...the largest protected area of original Tallgrass Prairie that remain in North America.  I have hiked dozens of miles across it rolling landscape...dodged angry buffalo (American Bison to be more precise), got caught in thunder storms, and photographed it from sunup to sundown...and I've still only touched a small portion of what it has to offer.  There have been days I believe I may have been the only person on the 38,000 acres except maybe the caretaker staff.  It's a big place with a big sky and amazing landscapes.  I love this place and will continue to revisit it again and again.

My number one favorite photo shoot of all time though was a shoot one of the members of our local photography club organized which involved several models.  I had never done that kind of shooting before.  Michael was his name, and he is an amazing photographer in his own right and does a lot of model shooting both location and studio.  He was able to convince two of his regular models to join several of us from the club so we could get some practice doing some location shooting.  It was amazing...the young ladies were amazingly delightful...Michael was amazing at how he easily directed and interacted with them.  Two other young ladies also joined us that day and they also did a remarkable job and added a lot to the days events.  I've never had so much actual fun while on a photo shoot.  I learned a great deal about location shooting. It was by far the number one most enjoyable photo shoot I've ever had the pleasure of being a part of.

Honorable mention Second team members on this list include a return trip to my old Coast Guard unit in Oregon a few years ago and the annual Balloons and Tunes in Bowling Green.  Another third team member would be the local Civil War re-enactment down at Lost River Cave.

Okay...so there you have it...my top three favorite photo shoots of all time plus a couple of honorable mentions thrown in...no extra charge.

What camera took what Photo?

Here's a little game for you.  Four photo's...each taken with a different kind of camera.  One was taken with a modern era digital SLR camera, one was taken with a late model SLR film camera with average electronics, one was taken with a 35 to 40 year old mechanical film camera that included a type of first generation exposure metering, and one was taken with a $5.00 plastic disposable film camera.  Can you tell me which one was taken with what camera?

I won't tell and no pixel peeking...You gotta guess.

June 22...Okay..give up?  The top photo was taken with the late model film camera, the second picture was taken with the $5.00 plastic disposable camera, the third picture was taken with a modern era digital camera, and the bottom picture was taken with the 35 year old vintage film camera....Kind of hard to tell isn't it.  Just goes to show that it matter less about what camera you use and more about how you understand the capabilities of the camera and how it will react to the lighting conditions.

Summer Skies

I love the smell of a summer rain shower.  On those occasions when the Kentucky skies darken and the rumble of thunder growls in the distance, I will often make my way to the front porch and sit in the rocking chair and wait for the spell of stormy weather to arrive.  When it does, the muggy air and hot nature of a summer day will suddenly be transformed by wind and rain blessed by cooler air and a fragrance like no other.

Seems like this season we've so far been blessed with a number of those moments and I am grateful to be able to enjoy one of natures great programs.  Another program I enjoy is to capture the first light of a summer morning. The haze in the sky at that time will often turn the rising sun into a subtle pink or pale orange.  Add an old barn or some farm equipment and throw in some tall weeds for atmosphere and with a bit of luck and timing, some of the best photo moments will often appear.

Recently I had one such experience.  I've been in somewhat of a dry spell photographically speaking and was anticipating a good morning.  I set the alarm for 30 minutes before sunrise and headed out the door to a location just a few miles down the road where an old windmill still pulls water from the ground.  There was some fog drifting in the lower areas and around the structure and the morning light created a rustic atmosphere. After firing off a few shots I headed back down the road to another location. where an old barn sat higher on a shallow hill and the summer sunrise always lines up across from it.  When I got there the sun was not yet above the horizon, so I fired off a few quick shots of the farm equipment sitting out in the field.  A few minutes later the sun began to burn through the low morning haze and I realized if I changed my position slightly I could catch the sun behind the equipment.

I'm always amazed at just how fast the sun moves once it breaks free of the horizon, and I almost missed the best shots of the day as it hovered in front of the barn.  The morning haze generated a nice warm glow in the sky and I felt good at having taken the moment to be there when the moment occurred.

Mechanically Good or Artistically Expressive

Your average photographer is often caught between understanding the high tech gadgetry built into their high dollar digital cameras and desiring to emulate the fine art photography they see being published today.  The good thing is the more they explore this, the more open they become to applying artistic concepts and techniques to their photography.

Photography is less about what the camera can mechanically do by itself, and more about understanding how you the photographer can use the camera as an artistic tool.  Compared to just a few years ago, the technology available today is indeed staggering and is constantly improving.  But, this fact alone cannot make those awe inspiring shots.  It still takes the photographer's skill and eye.

Great photographers are not unlike great musicians in that where great musicians go well beyond the simple mechanical reproduction of the notes and impart emotion and feeling into their music, great photographers go well beyond simply playing the photographic notes and are able to impart emotion and feeling into their images...so much so, that when someone sees their work, they are able to project themselves into the moment and understand why that moment was so important to the photographer.

Modern digital cameras are powerful tools that allow you to generate a great deal of flexibility, creativity, and artistic expression into your vision of the world.  'Your vision'...those are the operative words.  Understanding the difference between how the camera sees light verse how we perceive light visually will transform your whole perspective about photography as a visual art.  Being able to do so requires a blending of technical savvy with artistic expression on your part...not necessarily simply depending on the technical ability of the camera to mechanically play the photographic notes.

Graduating from the realm of mechanical photographs, toward pursuing photography based on the dynamics of light requires a blending of the technical with the aesthetic...mechanical with the emotional...to break away from simply always playing the photographic notes the way the camera tells you to...verses playing those notes based on your own vision and interpretation of the light's music.

Mechanically Good...

or...Artistically Expressive.

  Which one would you prefer?

The Story Photo - Fallen Heroes

Tucked into one corner of a local cemetery in Bowling Green is a memorial dedicated to fallen veterans.  It covers maybe an acre or two and is surrounded by trees which bloom in the spring and blaze with color in the fall. Spread across these special grounds are row after row of small white headstones each marking the final resting place of a Kentucky veteran.  The oldest marker dates back to the Spanish American War, others range from World War I through Vietnam...a few from more recent times.  I've always felt there was a story here...one single story that speaks of a greater collective sacrifice shared by all of the men interred within these grounds.  Capturing this story photograph turned out to be more difficult than I imagined.

At first glance one might think it would be easy...just point and shoot...and you've got the picture story.  In fact I'm not so sure there is a definitive process one can use to consistently capture a story like this with a camera.  It takes the right kind of shot...the perfect light that expresses, character...emotion...drama...sacrifice...gratitude...all traits not easily captured digitally in a single image.

During my walks through this quiet place, I always sense a feeling of solitude...one that speaks softly...one that asks, "What visual image can one find to say thank you to these men..."  Simply photographing what I saw fell well shy of what I felt.  Photo opportunities were all around...colors and light that reflected the serenity of this memorial...but, capturing the emotion of the moment seemed to always elude me.  By chance, on one hazy bright morning, when the first light of day filtered through the trees, the one story I wanted to capture appeared among the shadows.  It lasted but a brief moment as I walked along the path that curved around the compound.

The hazy sky cleared briefly, and one beam of light suddenly illuminated a single headstone where a small American flag leaned.  Across the top of the headstone lay some foliage and the base was stained with a reddish brown with streaks of dirt stretching upward from the ground toward the name carved into the stone. The flag cast a shadow across the lower outside corner, beyond and across the background other scattered markers lay darkened in the subdued light of the shadows.

Something wonderful happened at that moment...this was the shot...no time to think it through...it just looked right.  With tripod level with the name on the headstone, I knelt a few yards away, obliquely to one side...framed the imaged...and released the shutter.  A few seconds later the light faded once again into the morning haze.

Later, after loading the days work into my computer, I began to sort through the images and came to this one shot.  From first glance this single photograph stood out as it captured the emotion of the moment more deeply than all the others.

The flag that leaned against the headstone, along with its shadow that caressed the stained surface, appeared as though it were gently embracing a fallen hero.  The reddish brown stain across the bottom appeared as old battle wounds that had long ago left their mark...and the splashes of dirt that stretched upward from the ground reminds one of stained tears from battle weary eyes.  Surrounding this scene in the shadows stood other markers as reminders of the cost of our freedom and the debt that we can never fully repay.

Here at last was that one special photographic moment that told the full story of this serene place...the greater collective story...captured in a way that honored these fallen heroes...their sacrifice and service to their country...to us all...not forgotten.

Keith

To Those Who Served

“That's what it takes to be a hero, a little gem of innocence inside you that makes you want to believe that there still exists a right and wrong, that decency will somehow triumph in the end”...Lise Hands

There comes a time when we as a country must set aside our political differences and reflect on what it cost for us to first obtain, then retain the freedoms we have.  No amount of words will ever suffice in such an endeavor.  Emotions are often rendered incomplete when translated into written form.  The following photo essay is an attempt to capture first the feeling of gratitude I have regarding those individuals who served, fought, and died to protect all of us, and second to send a message to all veterans...all heroes who placed themselves in harms way so we could live in safety...

Teaching a Photography Workshop

Photo courtesy Ronnie Ryne

One of the more challenging things I've ever been asked to do is to teach a Photography Workshop.  The first time I was asked to do that my initial reaction was..'sure I can do  that...' then I got to thinking about what I actually needed to do to pull it off and I rapidly began to understand just how involved something like that was.

I went over and over all kinds of scenarios...should it be a beginners class...generic...advanced, well as advanced as I could make it anyway...lecture material...hands-on...and so on.  It was hard to focus in on one agenda.  I eventually settled for Generic that would include some basics and tips and techniques.

Photo courtesy Ronnie Ryne

That ended up being the easy part.  Now I had to come up with a viable program that would fit inside a 2 hour window.  Good grief!  Photography concepts are full of material that would probably require a single subject to take a full 2 hours if I thought about long enough, but it had to all make sense for people with a wide range of skill levels.

What I ended up doing was to create a program that was based on many of the same problems I had difficulty with over the years.  As I began to ponder about those difficulties, one recurring idea kept infiltrating my thoughts.  What was the one thing that gave me the most trouble?  As I thought about it, I began to understand that it was not the technical/mechanics of the camera, for those things are rather objective in nature and for the most part, can be learned with a bit of practice and simply reading your owners manual.  No, what gave me the most trouble over the years was learning how to see photographically.

Being able to see photographically requires a different thought process than simply understanding the mechanics of the camera, or to take simple snapshots.  It requires an understanding that light is the key to creating those amazing photographs.  It goes way beyond simply relying on the camera to make all the decisions for you...it requires a blending of how we visually perceive light vs how the camera sees light...the two are not necessarily the same.  Once I began to grasp that concept and apply it to what I was doing photographically, for the first time my photographs began to evolve away from the realm of the ordinary toward the realm of extraordinary...I said it was evolving toward it...I haven't reach it yet.  In fact, the more I evolve toward it, the more I realize that it is becoming one of those journey's that never has an end point.

So with that in mind, I formulated a program that would get the participants to thinking about what they are doing...to possibly change their perspective about photography and remove the intimidation factor related to the mechanics of the camera, and focus their mindset more toward understanding how to see light...how to see photographically.

Although I had previously presented similar material at our local photography club meetings, the first real presentation occurred back in March of 2010 that was sponsored by the county library.  They signed up almost 50 people of which about half showed up.  The program went very well for the first hour until the digital projector lost it's red color and all the sample images thereafter were displayed with a strong greenish hue.  Not exactly the best way to talk about and demonstrate how to see light...but overall it worked out pretty well.

Photo courtesy Ronnie Ryne

Since then I've refined the presentation and have broken it into two sections each about 90 minutes long.  This makes for a much more relaxed presentation as I now don't have to hurry through the material to squeeze it all in in under 2 hours.  The next presentation is coming up next June...it should be a good one as I now know more about how to present it, and have smoothed over some of the rough edges, plus I'll have more time to work through the material.

Getting Away - Watching Blue Birds - A Day at the Pond - A Day Fishing

I had a rather disappointing and discouraging week at work last week.  Everything is fine really, nothing bad happened, but sometimes circumstances and events pile up to where I have to say to myself...'I've had enough'...so I tacked on a couple days of vacation to the weekend for some rest and recovery.

On Thursday Kris and I spent a good part of the day first sitting in the swing under the shade tree in the backyard listening to and watching all the song birds. By mid morning we headed out to the pond a few hundred yards behind our house.

We carried a couple of folding chairs, my camera, and found a shade to sit in.  For the most part we just sat there and talked...took a few photos...talked some more, and enjoyed the the morning and later the cooling effects of an afternoon breeze.

I had fun watching her get excited about taking some photo's...looking for interesting things to zoom in close to like the Lady Bug crawling on  Buttercups, one of the days favorites, and finding parts of the pond that would tell the story of that day.  Too often we hurry about looking for stuff and never see really it in our rush to find it, when by simply sitting and slowing down, the good things tend to come to us instead. That's what happened that day...ordinary things suddenly became interesting subjects to observe and photograph.

We shared the camera...I took a few...but she did most of the picture taking and did a pretty good job of it.  The day at the pond was split into two sessions...the morning, and then again that afternoon for a couple of hours.  Between the two we grabbed a bite to eat and stopped over at Romanza Johnson Park and enjoyed the flowing waters of Trammel Creek.  It was a good relaxing day.

On Friday, I loaded up the canoe, fishing gear, and packed a lunch, then headed over to Shanty Hollow Lake about a 30 minute drive north of Bowling Green.  It's a great little lake perfect for canoe fishing, but alas, the fishing turned out rather slow.  You know, I really didn't care...I just enjoyed getting out.


I spent most of the day there soaking up some sun, and exercising my canoeing and casting muscles.  I didn't even take the camera as I just wanted to unwind and not worry about anything interfering with that endeavor.

Although I enjoy photography and it has become a larger part of my life in recent years, I often feel like I've lost a part of my identity as the traditional activities like fishing and canoeing and even spending a day at a pond have succumb to the trials of making a living far more than I ever envisioned.  I realize circumstances change, our lives evolve as we get older, and often we allow complacency to fill the gaps that develop.  I suppose taking a couple of days to spend a day at a place like the pond, or to revisit those older passions, become more important the older you get.  I'm certainly grateful for having had the opportunity to do so.

Keith

Kentucky Morning

A photographer longs for moments like the one that came to life above the Kentucky landscape on that day.  Too much time had filtered away since I last witnessed a morning like this one.  I suppose I needed to witness that exhibition of light as much as I've needed anything in recent years.  Hunting, fishing, canoeing...all historically important  elements in my life were fundamentally nonexistent that year, save for a few random outings.  Although I managed from time to time to break away from my doldrums with camera in hand, nothing of consequence resulted.  It had been a rather dry spell activity wise...what I needed was that one special day, that one defining moment where time, place, and light converged to create an extraordinary exhibit of radiance.

On a mid October dawn, the rustic natural beauty that is Kentucky displayed herself in front of my lens, and for a brief magnificent moment, I was granted the opportunity to witness part of creations most wonderful choreography.

A month before the hot dry remnant of the end of summer still permeated the region.  While driving the back roads of Barren County not far from my home, I turned down a narrow crumbling old road that eventually narrowed to a dead end at the top of a shallow rise.  I stopped for a while and meandered along the road simply enjoying being out and taking in the scenery, breathing the country air.  Falling away from the road to the south lay a quaint little farm with a cornfield growing in the bottoms separated from the rest of the land by a split of trees and a series of rolling pastures.  Cattle bellowed and song birds flittered here and there.  Beyond the cornfield stood a wooded strip backed by a sharply rising ridge.  Between the line of woods and the ridge ran Barren River.

Something spoke to me that day, bidding a return visit when the conditions were right...perhaps in another month as the fall colors started to appear.

That month passed...fall was stirring and the colors of the season were just beginning to adorn the hills.  I rose well before daylight one crisp Saturday morning and arrived at the top of the rise a few minutes before sunup.  The sky was already aglow and the sounds of country living were adding their music to the morning symphony.  A light fog drifted across the valley and hovered lightly above the now partially harvested cornfield.  The morning progressed rapidly toward daylight and I struggled to keep up...shooting photos in rapid succession needing to be in three places at once.  I rushed further up the rise and noticed how the first beams of the morning sun were just beginning to touch the tops of that spit of trees that separated the two fields.

Time passes quickly at first light, and I knew something special was about to happen, so I quickly setup my tripod and camera...checked the exposure...framed the shot...and waited for that defining moment I knew was sure to come.

As the sun climbed higher and peaked over the ridge to the east, a beam of light broke through and cast a radiance that burst into a flame of color as it was captured by the front edge of the trees.  The fog that drifted below began to lightly glow...I almost missed the moment as it lasted but a few seconds...but when I released the shutter, I knew that one of natures most cherished gifts...a brilliant new dawn...a new Kentucky Morning...was mine.

Photographers Block

Writers suffer through a phenomenon called 'writers block' where the words just don't come...nothing seems to be stimulating those creative juices.  Well...I've discovered that as a photographer...I suffer from 'photographers block' from time to time.  Nothing seems to be working on some days...every image is either a cliche' or worse.  What to do?

When this occurs two things tend to happen...I get discouraged and then I take a break from the routine.  Neither one of these two things serve a very good purpose although taking a break can actually prove beneficial in the short term.  Even so, there are a few things you can do to help get on track.

Change your Routine.  If you normally concentrate on landscapes, switch over to another aspect of photography..try people, sports, or local venues.  The idea is to do something different to jump start those creative juices.

Slow Down.  Take a hike without your camera...simply enjoy getting out for the sake of getting out.  Sometimes when you always lug the camera around, you tend to forget to enjoy simply being out. Refresh your thoughts and clear the mind.

Review your old photographs.  Go back as far as you can and thumb through some of the early days of your photographic attempts.  By doing so you just might realize just how much you've improved over the years.  Plus those old photos just might rekindle ideas.

Go someplace you've never been before.  Spend the entire day there. Many times just seeing something new will get you excited again.

Join a photography club.  I've never been very clubby over the years but a few years ago I joined a local photography club and have thoroughly enjoyed the interaction.  It's a great way to learn about other techniques and the fellowship it affords can often make the difference between becoming stale and staying fresh.

Keep on shooting anyway.  Most of the time the block is temporary and by simply working through it you will find your old creative self again.

Photographers block, like writers block can be discouraging...but always remember that in time you will get back to visualizing and photographing those wonderful moments.  Trying something different often helps...sort of like...well..me writing this article...because I just could not think of anything else to write about this time...there you see...I feel better already.

Keith

Not Such a Bad Thing...

    Back in the days when I was a lot poorer than I am today, going on a camping or fishing trip was a true adventure.  Not so much because of the great outdoors, but more so because the vehicle’s I drove had questionable ability to get there and back.  I never knew what would happen on any given trip…and I pretty well saw it all…from bad fuel and water pumps, to bad ignition points and oil clogged spark plugs, to broken timing belts and burned out starters.

    One time my canoeing and fishing partners were anticipating a wonderful weekend floating the Mountain Fork River in southeastern Oklahoma some years ago now…a long time ago some years ago.  At the time I drove an old beat up white Ford Pinto station wagon with simulated wood paneling on the sides.  Don’t laugh…it actually was a pretty good fishing rig as it had plenty of room for fishing gear and with a little jury rigging it would haul a canoe on short trips just fine…short being the operative word here.  On this trip I attempted the near impossible for that old rig as we were to drive a considerably greater distance than our local fishing holes allowed for and I was hauling two canoes, camping, canoeing, and fishing gear for two people up and down those steep backcountry hills found in that part of the country.

    That old rig did just fine running down the highway from Tulsa sputtering only slightly on some of the steeper grades, but when we hit the mountains surrounding Talihina, pronounced Tal la hay Knee in Oklahomese, I thought we’d have to get out and push a couple times to make it over the top.  Even so, we finally made it to the rendezvous point and connected up with the other two from our party. That was the highlight of the trip as the rest of the trip turned out to be pretty much a bust after the first day.  That first evening the skies opened up and Mother Nature cut loose with a fury that seemed directed specifically toward us.  We’ve often wondered about going into the drought busting business because it seemed like every time we went out something like that happened.  It may not have rained for three months, but if we planned a fishing trip, rest assured it was probably going to rain.  


    Man did it ever rain…and rain…and storm…by the next day floating or fishing was pretty much out of the question, so we ended up driving around for while looking for other potential fishing opportunities.  Before long we decided to call it quits and head on home, but first we had to get back to the other vehicles and load up.  Seemed all of the creeks were flooding and most of the back roads were flooded as a result which slowed our progress.  Eventually we reached a place where we could drive no further.  We were still a mile or two from the campsite, so my fishing partner and I decided to hike on in by wading thru the high water then over the hill and down to where his truck and my Pinto was located.  Lightning was still splitting the sky and we were rather exposed during our hike in but managed to make it without getting electicated.  We grabbed and piled all the gear into his truck and my little old Pinto Station Wagon, which was crammed full and loaded to the gills everywhere except the gas tank.  I figured I’d just top it off on the way home.

    Unfortunately, we could not drive out the same way we came in because all the little creeks had continued to flood to where even a 4x4 would have had trouble getting through.  We caravanned around those ancient hills and crumbling dirt roads for what seemed like hours and my gas tank gauge  inched ever closer to the empty line.  Eventually, the gas gauge indicator parked on the big E and would not budge, and we still we’re not out of trouble.  I don’t know how that old fishing rig made it because we must have driven another 30 miles around those old roads after that, but somehow we ended up in some little no count town in Arkansas that had only one gas station.  I didn’t hesitate to fill her up.  That gas tank normally held 10 gallons.  Can’t remember the exact amount, but I believe I pumped somewhere around 10.2 gallons of gas into that tank.

    Oddly enough, that old station wagon ended up getting ruined in a giant flood in Tulsa a few years later.  We lived in an apartment just off the notorious for flooding Mingo Creek, and Tulsa received one of those 100 year rains where 12+ inches of rain dropped in one evening.  I awoke the next morning and looked out the balcony window of our apartment to see only the tops of cars in the parking lot.  My little Pinto took the brunt of the surge as it was the first car in the row and caught all the washed down debris plus the high water.

    In time I was able to replace the Pinto with a slightly newer and venerable Chevy Luv pickup truck and a new series of grand adventures began.  I drove that old truck everywhere and some places I should not have, and it proved itself up to the task…most of the time.  I drove that thing until it had around 150,000 miles on it and it pretty well just would not run any more.  So I parked it in the gravel parking lot in front of our little apartment in Harrison, Arkansas for a few months while I decided what to do with it.  After some research and not having anything else better to do, I decided I would rebuild the engine…new piston rings, get the valves ground…new bearings…full tune up…plus a few other assorted fixes.  It took me a couple weeks of working nights and weekends, but eventually got it all put back together, and I was more surprised than anyone that it actually started.  Other than a wiring issue that ruined a fishing trip shortly thereafter…I drove that old thing for another 100,000 plus miles before finally retiring it.  

   Before its retirement, that old Luv took me on numerous grand adventures…fishing and hunting and camping…caused me numerous aggravations when it broke down…had it towed several times and cursed it more times than I care to admit to.

    Even so, because of those two old Rigs I experienced things I would never have seen had I not dared to drive them.  I saw amazing sunrises while sitting in my canoe on the placid waters of a small lake.  I witnessed amazing sunsets while floating Arkansas’s Buffalo River.  I felt the sun and wind on my face and absorbed the aroma of nature’s best offerings.  I thrilled at the sight as a flight of mallards set their wings and drop into a spread of decoys and I’ve witnessed thousands of geese explode into the sky and fill the air with their honking calls.  I’ve been startled by the sudden jerk of a big ‘ole bass as it attacked my lure from the edge of submerged grass and I’ve heard the lonesome yelp of the coyote as I warmed my hands in front of the campfire.  I’ve hiked amongst the peaks of the Colorado Rockies, and waded through the cold waters of an Ozark stream.  I’ve sat in deer camp listening to and retelling old stories with friends from years gone by.  I’ve watched the fog lift from the valley at first light and gazed across an amazing meteor streaked night sky free from the haze of city lights.  I grew experienced from having to deal with difficulties and learned that grease stained hands and fingernails will eventually come clean with a bit scrubbing, and become a reward from the satisfaction gained by making the repairs myself.  Yeah, those old rigs caused me a lot of aggravation, but they also gave me so much more in return that far outweighed the frustration of dealing with them.

    Back in 1998 I purchased my first real dream rig…an almost new Jeep Wrangler Sahara.  I still drive it today...It still runs great…but only because I’ve often had greasy hands to keep it running.  Some thirteen years later…it’s just now beginning to take on that old rig look…but you know…that’s not such a bad thing.

Dragons and Fly's and Critters...Oh My....

A few hundred yards behind my house is a pond that I frequent from time to time.  It's a great place to get away for a while and because it's so close, it sure is convenient.  Sometimes I'll take my camera and tripod along with my dog and sometimes the neighbors dogs, and make the trek over that way.  I always enjoy getting out and letting the dogs run.

Photographing the pond itself can be a bit tricky because the light can be difficult to deal with, but one thing I do enjoy is photographing the critters that live in and around the pond.  Dragonflies are one of the more common critters, but it is all but impossible to chase after them trying to get a good shot.  What I've learned is to simply sit down in a shade and watch them for a while.  After a while, you'll notice that they tend to fly around in patterns and will often frequent the same twig or blade of grass often stopping for several seconds.  That is when the opportunity presents itself.

A macro lens is all but useless as you will never get close enough to one to be able to take its portrait.  What I do is set my long zoom lens to full extension...set the camera and lens on a tripod, and connect a remote cable release.  Then after I identify what twig or spot the dragonflies tend to rest on, I will pre-focus the camera on that  spot and sit and wait.  Before too long, one will usually alight and I fire away.

You can shoot this way all day long on most any kind of day.  But there is a little more to it that simply pointing the camera and taking a picture.  I always try to find an angle that will isolate the dragonfly against a solid background.  Depending on the time of day, I will also try to find an angle that allows for the light to back light the dragonfly as they can often be quite full of translucent colors.

It's a lot of fun to do and with a bit of patience you can catch some really interesting shots using the technique I just described.  Try it some time.

Keith

Creating Slide Show Presentations

Many years ago when I was in the U.S. Coast Guard stationed at Winchester Bay,Oregon, my Commanding Officer informed me that I was to represent our unit at one of the monthly civic organizations club meeting.  I whined about having to do so, but to no avail as I was locked into attending.  It seemed this local civic club asked if someone from our unit could talk to them about what we did.  Well, I had taken a lot of slides and had a slide projector so I figured I would just take that and narrate the slide show.  Seemed like a perfectly good idea.

That evening I got all dressed up in my dress blues and headed on down to the club meeting location, stepped inside and was greeted by a very pleasant, but also very blind individual.  No one said anything to me about who the people were I was going to speak to...turned out it was an organization support group for the local blind population.  Needless to say I was very embarrassed by the whole situation as I was carrying under arm the slide projector and slide tray.

The person who greeted me was very understanding and insisted that I go ahead and show the images so I could narrate about what the images portrayed.  Actually it worked out pretty well as the slides provided material for me to speak about...but I had to be a bit more descriptive in my narration.

I've never liked the phrase Slide Show as it generates images of Uncle Bill and Aunt Betty taking hours to flip through their summer vacation pictures.  But, with the technology that is available today, slide shows are no longer the drudgery they once were.  Fantastic presentations can be generated set to music with interesting transitions between images...movement...effects....voice over dubbing...DVD...just about all the techniques that once was only available to professional film makers is now available to anyone with a laptop or home computer.

Over the last several years I've generated a good number of presentations constantly striving to improve and innovate with each new production.  I've even coined a production logo...Beyond the Campfire Productions...that gives the presentations a more professional appearance.

There are a good number of slide show software packages available today, some are better that others, and their costs vary from freeware to several hundred dollars.  One of the better moderately priced software packages is called ProShow Gold.  I know several people who use the product and it does a very nice job and is easy to use.  The package I use is called Magix Xtreme PhotoStory.  I purchased it several years ago for under $20.00 and have used it extensively since then.  It does a very nice job...so nice in fact I have not yet needed to upgrade as the version I use does everything I need it to do.  Most of the software packages use many of the same features varying only in degree and navigation through various screens.

Having said all of this, I have noticed a few things about slide show presentation that I think should be addressed.  Simplicity is best.  Less is more.  Great music makes the show.  Spend time refining the program.

Simplicity is best.  Simply because the slide show software allows for flashy frame to frame transitions, it doesn't mean you should use all of them.  Simple smooth transitions work best most of the time.  I almost exclusively use two transition types...Crossfade and Fade thru Black.  Crossfade is where the two frames blend into each other as one fades out, the other fades in.  Fade thru Black is where the first frame fades out completely to black and then the next frame gradually fades in from black.  Both are very effective, easy to use and provide a near seamless transition between images.

Less is More.  You can perform all kinds of movement within a slide...zoom in and out...travel left to right...among others.  The idea here is to use a little discretion and not over do it.  A very gentle movement left or right or in and out will provide a very effective eye catching feature to your photographs.  Not all photos need to have movement...some do better without any...others are suited very nicely for zooming in or out.

Great music makes the show - Spend time refining the program.  Most of the software packages allow for simple drag and drop features to add images and insert music.  The transition times...length of time each images is allowed on screen can also be controlled. Some people simply drop the images and insert the music...select a time interval and let it go.  That works, but with a little effort you can time your slides to the music transitions...when the music gets louder or softer...or cuts off or slows down or speeds up.  It takes more time to complete the program, but once it is ready the presentation will have the look and feel of a professionally crafted program.

If you haven't tried creating a digital slide show...think about it...I think you will enjoy the creative juices it generates. Click on the Sample links below to watch one.

Slide Show Sample
Slide Show Sample

Keith

Windows of Nature - A Pathway to Creativity

I find it useful at times to compare photography to playing a piano.  This may sound somewhat strange, but when you think about it, it actually makes sense.  You see there are a lot of people who can play a piano...they've learned how to read the notes and to mechanically reproduce them on the piano...they are technically competent.  The music sounds okay but lacks something.  Then there are those artists who are able to move beyond simply playing the notes, they have such an understanding of music they are able to impart a sense of emotion and feeling into their playing.  You know it when you hear it...it sounds different...with more depth and power.  Photography is the same way.  With the technology available today almost anyone can take a technically competent photograph where all the basic elements are present, but the image lacks in emotion and impact...they are able to play the notes, but lack understanding of how to generate that emotional response in a photograph.  The difference between the two is passion and vision.

Outdoor photography is 10 percent technical and 90 percent being able to see photographically.  It involves looking beyond the obvious and filtering through all the clutter to focus in on what is truly important.  It's understanding how to use composition to define your subject and combining it with color, shape, and form to generate an image with impact.  It is a concept that rarely reaches an end point, but one that is continually refined.  It is a blending of technique with artistic vision.  Together, combined with passion, the windows of nature become a pathway to creativity.

Jack Dykinga, a world class photographer, made a statement some years ago that changed the way I approach photography.  It transformed how I think and how I look for photographic solutions.  What he said was;

 "Camera's and Lenses are simply tools to place our unique vision on film...Concentrate on equipment and you'll take technically good photographs...Concentrate on seeing the light's magic colors and your images will stir the soul"..

Light's magic colors...nature is filled with it...our eyes observe it...our hearts feel it...our souls yearn for it.  Are you simply a note player...or do you have a vision for your photography that will carry you toward creating images that stir the soul?

Keith