the right light

My entry into photography began with a passion for portraiture; brides, babies, families, and eventually my own children. Because I was shooting soft and subtle subjects, I had to develop an eye for soft and subtle light. Since my photo training didn’t go any further than Photo 101, I had no idea how to use artificial light (aka a flash of any kind) and therefore had to learn how to achieve my desired results using natural light whenever humanly possible. After much trail and error and working at fine tuning my eyes to see the light (I swear I am not trying to be cheesy) I can now say that I’ve got it down.

So, why then did it not occur to me that the same rules can apply when shooting other subjects?

As I have turned my lens to the beauty of natural elements (flowers, trees, found objects) I guess I found myself in a similar light learning curve. As I was figuring out what worked and what didn’t, what I liked and what I didn’t, I wasn’t even falling back on the techniques I had already worked out. It wasn’t until I shot this blooming agapanthus that it clicked. I never tire of that pun. Why did this shot come out so well (with no photo editing needed at all) when other attempts on other days didn’t? The answer was simple. I shot the image in the late hours of the afternoon during the delicate light of dusk. The light was soft and my aperture was wide open (by default I might add as the camera was doing it’s best to gather as much light as it could under the dimming circumstances) which usually creates the perfect alchemy for an exquisite photo of any kind.

As I have taken my new/old lesson to heart, my nature photos have dramatically improved. I’m not saying you need soft light to capture lovely flower pictures. You don’t. But today, I challenge you to try treating your nature photos more like portraits. Schedule a session or two with the blossoms and blooms that are waking with the warmth of Spring. Be mindful of the light and try to flatter your subject as you would a dear friend. Relax and enjoy yourself and watch your nature photography bloom.

textured life

I stood there for a solid five minutes trying to find his eyes. No luck.

And he stood there contemplating me, his chum decidedly unimpressed. It was as if I'd asked to take his picture and he'd sheepishly replied, "Meh."

(ba-dum-dum.)

Have you ever had one of those lovely moments in which you ask permission without speaking, and some momentarily peaceful, still, contented beast cooperates?

Words to Fly By

The night before last I had the incredible honor of seeing both Anne Lamott and Elizabeth Gilbert together at the beautiful Royce Hall at UCLA. I know I know, how could it be?  Needless to say, the evening was pure magic.

Since almost every single word out of each of their mouths felt meaningful and moving, I wasn’t sure I could even write about it. Almost like a you had to be there kind of night. But I will say that in one short evening, these two incredibly authentic and articulate ladies gave a huge room full of women permission to be human—real, fumbling and flawed.

A perfect example was when someone in the audience asked them if they had by chance mastered living in the now. Wow. That’s a question.

Ms. Lamott began with an unapologetic No, which was certainly liberating in itself, but Ms. Gilbert added that she thought the living in the moment movement was somewhat overrated. Oh yes she did. She went on to share something she had recently read that made mention (and I totally paraphrase what she had paraphrased) that perhaps the key to a happy life is when one has good memories to look back on and great plans to look forward to. She ended with a simple line of advice that keeps ringing in my ears—take pictures and make plans.

Is it just me or is that most wonderful thing you’ve ever heard?

I knew these women were amazing even before attending the event but when I floated out of that concert hall with wings I began to see them as divine.

Superhero Photo Challenge: out the window

One of the greatest pleasures in life is the window seat on an airplane. Are you with me sisters? My husband and I have to do some serious rock, paper, scissors every time we get situated.

I always have my camera at the ready and feel a childlike giddiness when I see the world from this perspective. I am suddenly an astronaut seeing the planet for the first time: it's rich topography amazing me with its color, clouds and organic forms. It takes my breath away every time.

This week's theme is to shoot out the window. It could be an airplane, a car or even your bathroom window. As usual, leave your link in the comments and add the tag "superhero photo challenge" to your flickr page.

Hot tip: If you don't already know this, treat your airplane photos with levels or curves in photoshop (auto levels usually does the trick) and watch the landscape pop!

Following Our Dreams All the Way Home

This is my father.
Nicotine stained, work-worn, full of fire, fueled by possibility.

He is a rascal, a maverick, a speculator, a pirate.  
He is hopeful.  He is unchanging.  He is mine.

He takes the long way home, so I can see the sunset across the bridge.  He tells stories about the car, how he bought it for seven hundred and eleven dollars a few months ago.  How they charge him next to nothing for insurance because they don’t expect him to be able to drive a thirty-year old car this fast.  I can barely hear him over the roar of the engine, over the sound of the wind whipping my hair around my face.  

We soar down the road like a rocket.

My whole life I can barely remember him even though I grew up in the house we both call our home.  He is busy.  He is traveling.  He is gone.  My mother pulls her coat over her pregnant belly in the winter and goes out to the patio to chop wood for the fireplace.  I’m sure there is a good reason for this, but I cannot remember it.  Where is my father?  I do not know.

The parts I do remember are like this.  He is calling home.  He is helping some homeless guy he just met. He is bringing home some Austrian backpackers who are shocked that they lock the churches here, and now they have nowhere to sleep.  He is talking to the man who is determined to end his life.  He is driving some guy to the emergency room, because he found him stabbed on the street.   He is collecting wildflowers off the side of the highway, because they are beautiful.  He is bringing home flowers for all of us, because we are his little women.

All this, I understand, with all my heart.

When he doesn’t call it is because he is smoking cigarettes in his office, adding up his dreams in lines of little numbers written in pen on paper napkins.  He is at the airport.  He is with the client at a restaurant.  He is selling something.  He is working harder than any man has ever worked before. He is waiting for this deal to come through.  He is waiting for his ship to come in. No matter what, there is always work and traveling and the sound of the television and the numbers on the napkins.  No matter what.

This I make peace with over years, over time.  I extract all the numbers until dreams form like poems on my napkins.  I learn to follow these dreams (just as he followed his) with all my heart.  

We are almost to the bridge now.  He tells me about the car, and how happy it makes him.  He tells me how beautiful the stars are overhead, when he drives with the top down late at night.  He tells me how they make him think of me.  How much he knows I would enjoy the view.   In this moment, his heart is as expansive as the sky above, and I can’t believe how lucky I am—to experience his love for me in this moment, so perfect, so complete.

He slows down at the top of the bridge, so I can capture the sunset.   I take twenty pictures as fast as I can, but in the end none means as much to me as this.   What more could I need than this love?  This forgiveness?  The memory of his hand at the wheel as we follow our dreams all the way home?

 +++++++++++++++++++++

May you discover the story of your life today, dear sisters, as you look through the lens with love in your eyes and hope in your soul.  Do you have a photo that is dear to you because of the story it tells your heart?   I'd be delighted to see your links in the comments below.