Clear Pictures Photography

Two of my images have been selected to be included in the juried show “Images of Water” at the Morris Graves Museum of Art in Eureka. It’s always an honor to be accepted into a juried show. This show is one of my favorites as water is a subject that I am drawn to.

My two photographs are below:

After the Fall

Shoal

At some point I will try to expound on what I am doing with my photography. Having had a number of careers, including that of writer, I find it fascinating that main mode of expression is photography. More later. Maybe.

Come see my new show! I’m part of the Photography and Digital Art show at the Art of Wine, 308 Second Street, in Old Town Eureka, through the month of June. This is the first time I have exhibited larger prints: the ten prints are all 25 inches wide. In addition to four talented photographers there is a fine mandala creator and a couple who does digital collage. Altogether a fine show. Here are four examples:

It was very gratifying to be accepted into the 2010 Northwest Eye. This competition draws from Northern California (from Monterey Bay north), Oregon, Washington, British Columbia, Yukon Territory, and Alaska. Each photographer was only allowed to enter three images for possible entry into the show. I was fortunate to have all three of my entries accepted. The show runs through May 9 at the Morris Graves Museum of Art in Eureka, California.

Robin Robin 1935 - 2010

It was one of those messages you don’t want to get, especially just as you return from the little trip that was supposed to be a break. “I’m the daughter of… please call me.”

Dread turned to shock and sorrow as the news came over the phone: my friend and mentor had died. Robin Robin had been a professional photographer for over fifty years. He’d had studios in Paris, New York, Los Angeles, and, finally, in Eureka. There were images of the famous and infamous, and stories to go with them; Robin was a raconteur, a vanishing breed. He loved photography and attempted to downplay that love by calling it a craft. But he burned with a passion that shouted ‘art!’ and his images reflected that.

We began as counselor and client: me the counselor, the teacher, he the client, concerning specific business things. We progressed to friendship and then I found myself in a photography class he taught. I’d been shooting for decades and thought I knew something. Well, I did… sort of. What Robin gave to me, specifically, was the joy of finding the picture within the picture. In other words, he taught me how to see.

Robin loved photography, but he loved Stephanie as much or more. She was his wife and assistant and rarely has the inadequacy of words been so apparent as now, in describing their relationship. Nancy and I were privileged to count them as friends. Our meals together wound through endless subjects and somewhere in there he would look at my latest work and comment. I was now the student.

He taught me well, but left far too soon. I will miss him.

She was both delightful and incongruous. On the beach in fashionable style, green stockings and all, she cut quite a figure.

In style.

Then a wave runs up and she takes to the air.

Taking flight

You never know what inspiration you will find at the beach.

Some nice news: I was accepted into the Redwood Art Association annual Member’s show now exhibiting at the Morris Graves Museum of Art. I was told the judging was very tough to get in, so I am grateful I made it. This is the photo is now in the Graves until March 22:

I’m working on some others from recent ventures out and I’ll report back soon.

It’s a little late to post about the Eureka earthquake.  It also seems pretty inconsequential considering Haiti.  Nevertheless our experience is still that.

Nancy was at the bookstore when it struck. The windows blew out, books started flying, and people started screaming. They all hustled outside and stood there for a while waiting for the 100 year old building to…. Whatever it is that old buildings do in an earthquake. An unreinforced brick building catty corner from the bookstore lost part of its roof and has a big crack in it. The police and fire department cordoned off the street. It’s been vacant for several years and though Iwas sure it would have to be demolished, it will be saved.

I was at home watching a football game, nursing my ten day old cold. It was really rockin’ and rollin’ and went on for 30 seconds or longer. I was in the Northridge quake and this felt quite similar. It was difficult to stand and run out of the house, with sounds of glass breaking behind me. It turns out the glass was a few vases and a lot of books and tchotchkes flung about. The structural integrity of the house looks good. Mingo, the dog, ran away but came back an hour later as I was loading up tools and lights to take to the store.

Here are some down and dirty snaps showing the effect on Booklegger, the book store my wife and her partner own.

Thanks to Amy Stewart for taking this one.

The following are interior shots the next morning:

Looking toward the E Street side

The Sports section looks like it took a hit from a front lineman

Back Room

Glassless in Eureka

It was very eerie downtown as the sun went down, with no lights except the emergency vehicles flashers, all red white and blue, and the heavy diesels of the fire engines.  Then there were the disaster tourists that drove or walked through, trying to take cell phone camera pictures of the cop cars and fire engines in the pitch dark.  Not to mention the ghost like figures fading in and out of those flashing lights.

The glass people showed up around seven o’clock at the store to board up the windows and were on our way home by 9.  On an off chance we drove by a restaurant that looked open and, indeed, it was.  We went into this fully lit, empty restaurant.  They told us they had just reopened five minutes before.  Our timing was impeccable.  By the time our order came the place was full with a waiting line.  They had the only hot food for quite the radius.

Overall the store lost five of their 9 big windows.  Only about a dozen bookcases, out of over 200, were thrown over.  All had been screwed and strapped together.  Several thousand books took to the air but most were undamaged.  We were very fortunate, losing so little except our nerves and some inconvenience.

I’ve been away for about three weeks taking some time in Hawaii.  It was not a photographic trip per se but I did manage to get a few images.

I lived in Hawaii for a number of years a while ago.  Even though things had already radically changed by the time I got there, they keep doing so and the romantic fantasy doesn’t always survive the reality.

The image below is, I think, what we would like it to be and, if you look hard enough, it is still there.

Kona Sunset

My own nine-year sojourn in the Aloha State was a mixture of the things I yearned for and a hard reality.  Someone once said we all want to marry our vacation.  I found life there glorious and difficult at the same time.  Prices are high, wages are low, and the mundane comes to haunt us all.  Still… I’ve been back numerous times and hope to go again.

Not Just a Metaphor

There is always that different drummer and life can be simple.

There has been a great resurgence of Hawaiian culture among those Hawaiians still left.  I remember reading that when Captain Cook first visited the islands the estimated population of all of Hawaii was around a half-million people.  After the smallpox, venereal diseases, other illnesses, and cultural dissolution there were, in 1970 an estimated 2,000 ethnically pure Hawaiians left.  I don’t know what the figure is today.  The current generation of Hawaiians have embraced and reinvigorated the Hawaiian language and culture.  There is resurgence of Hawaiian spiritual practice and a great pride in their heritage.

There are numerous historical, cultural, and religious sites where few were before.  It is a trend that, I believe, enriches us all.

Check out my Hawaii Gallery.  I’ll be adding more photos to it as I process them.

Ever the gadget geek, I just got a Canon 500D close up lens/filter.  They call it a filter and I guess that’s true: you screw it onto the front of your lens like a filter.  It most resembles a handle-less magnifying glass.  I know the optics are much better than grandma’s honker she used to use to read the paper.

I haven’t done a lot of macro.  Mostly I used extension tubes with my old film Nikon FM and mostly when I was in New Zealand some eons ago.  It was very cool.  I didn’t want to spend a lot on a macro lens when I’m not sure how much I’ll use it.

I did a couple of experimental shots with it just to see how it was.  Getting out my trust Nikon 70-200 I quickly screwed it on and went in search of…

Bells

You can see the narrowness of the DOF.  It shows up especially on the right side where a lot of detail is lost.  Much learning to do.

Japanese Maple Leaf

In color this is so red that it is almost monochromatic in red; so I changed it to a more subtle, almost sepia, tone.

Branch and Stone

Branch and Stone is my favorite of my first shots with the 500D.  It reminds me of my friend, Mark, who died nine years ago this week.  He was a great friend and great student of Zen.  He struggled with his own shackles of physical disability; and though life bent him, it didn’t break him.  He was the rock.

We had a nice period of warm weather just before Fall stole into the County.   There was a final few days to visit some friends’ homes and gardens.  My own experience with gardening is one of distant mutual respect.   I don’t know why I was born with thirteen left brown thumbs, but there you have it.  This doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy the riotous beauty Jenny and Becky wring out of the ground.  I marvel at the love and skill needed to bring forth such gorgeousness.

Becky grew some wonders in her patches the last of summer:

Blue and Spikey

This Borage also grew among other colorful delights:

Sunflower

Jenny had both flowers and veggies that were delightful to the eye:

Jenny's Purple

Chard

Nancy was no slouch, either, with her Dahlia.

Dahlia

But even plants have their dark sides.  As the cold winds blew and temperatures dropped, leaves shriveled and Charlie Brown’s bane, the Frankenpumpkin came forth.

Frankenpumpkin

There’s been the usual ambivalent farewell to the warm.  Fall’s crispness and colors do bring a little more sharpness to the senses which means, ironically, a bit more aliveness in the air.  It’s a good time for Humboldt County… and photography.