taking a moment

As I sit here, scarf around my neck and a steaming cup of tea close at hand, I know by the way my head is spinning that I wasn't able to outrun the cold and flu season. Drat!

Now, more than ever, it's time we pause and take a moment. To slow down. To let our bodies rest. To give our mind a few minutes off. To look around, breathe deep and appreciate the little things. No matter what is going on around us.

I won't be telling your how many days there are until Christmas, I promise. Instead, I will urge you to move more slowly. To give yourselves a little extra time to get to the places you are going. To drive more carefully than usual. To try to keep your mind on only one thing at a time. To avoid distractions. To exhale.

If we all use our collective energies to slow it down a bit, maybe we'll actually feel it in the air. All of us together, taking a moment.

In honor of the day...this day I declare is the day for slowing down (why not?)...share an image of calm, of peace, of stillness. Show us what it means to use your camera as the tool to take a moment.

I'm feeling a little bit better already, aren't you?

the lighter side of vignetting

Vignetting can be one of the most effective post processing tools there is. It can also be taken too far or used too much. At least that's what I've heard some people say. Like with most things, I chalk it up to a matter of the photographers perspective and prerogative.

I feel that a subtle vignette often enhances my imagery and so in post-processing I'll often try one on for size just to see whether it will be beneficial for the final image. And sometimes I slide it all the way to the opposite side of the spectrum to see what the lighter side of vignetting will offer.

Every once in a while it's exactly what I think the shot needs. In the photograph featured above, the darker vignette revealed the true setting of the shot which was in the pumpkin patch (especially when it was left in color). Once I dialed out the color and added the lighter vignette, the entire image was transformed and the setting felt much more mysterious to me. The white glow that surrounds my subject now could even be construed as a snowy field. That for me is magic as we don't get snow where I live! A few clicks of my mouse and my entire image was transformed. The story changed, mysteries deepened and I have an image I love more than the original SOOC.

Have you ever gone to the lighter side of vignetting. It's not nearly as common or popular as the darker side but if you don't try it, you'll never know if it fits your shot!

Today share your favorite vignette, be it dark or light. We'd love to see (and hear) your take on the art of the vignette.

a lesson in seeing

 

A note from Tracey: Last week I came across this image and post from photographer Bret Edge and was so taken by it and how well it expresses what we believe here at Shutter Sisters that I promptly asked Bret if I could share it with all of you.

Without further ado, here is the very first guest post shared by a shutter brother (be sure to give him a warm welcome in the comments): 

Today’s post is a short one, though I believe it imparts an important lesson.  Last week I embarked upon a 4 day, 3 night motorcycle trip to Crested Butte, Aspen and beyond.  I didn’t have a set itinerary although I knew I wanted to photograph an autumn sunrise of the Maroon Bells reflecting in the placid waters of Maroon Lake.  On the evening before the final day of my trip I arrived in Aspen and took the road leading to the Bells.  I found an idyllic campsite in the Silver Queen campground only a couple miles from the lake.  Once camp was set up I headed to the lake to scout compositions for sunrise the next morning.

Having heard stories from friends about dozens of photographers lining the lake with their tripods overlapping I knew I’d need to arrive early the next morning to stake my claim.  I awoke early, threw on layers of warm clothing to protect me from the chilly 34 degree ride and proceeded to the lake.  Arriving a full half hour before sunrise I was a bit surprised to find seven cars already in the parking lot.

I grabbed my gear and headed up to the lake.  I found a nice little spot away from a gaggle of photographers who had all set up right next to one another at the end of the lake.  In the pre-dawn light the peaks had a subtle glow about them and were reflected almost perfectly in the lake.  I made a single exposure of the peaceful scene.  And then, the waters rippled.  A breeze!  Not a strong one, but potent enough to destroy all reflections.  The sun came up, the peaks glowed that beautiful and well-known red and shutters whirred – except mine.  I made a couple exposures and was unimpressed with the results.

I turned around to enjoy the light on Sievers Mountain.  And then my eyes locked on to such a sweet little scene that it almost made me giddy.  I snapped up my tripod and ran over for a closer look.  The foliage and grass lining the lake was covered in a thin layer of frost.  Even better, some of the plants were displaying brilliant fall colors!  I quickly went about hunting for a compelling composition.  As I did, I couldn’t help but notice the other photographers.  Several of them looked at me, with my camera aimed straight down at the ground, and one of them even pointed and commented to his buddy.  One thing remained constant: every last one of them (by now there were over a dozen) still had their cameras trained on the mountains and lake.

I discovered this little arrangement and worked it for a while.  I knew I’d made an image I would be proud of as soon as I saw this on the LCD screen.  I fiddled around a bit more, packed up and then headed out as the light on the peaks transitioned from warm red to flat, boring and colorless.  As I passed the gaggle an older photographer looked at me and said, “Giving up already, huh?”  I didn’t even break stride.  I just looked at him, smiled and said, “Enjoy your day!”

Image and words courtesy of guest blogger Bret Edge; a professional nature and adventure photographer in Moab, Utah who leads private guided photo excursions and group workshops throughout the western U.S.  Visit http://www.moabphotoworkshops.com to learn more about his workshops and http://www.bretedge.com to view his online portfolio.

where do you stand?

In the 1940's my father used to get his shoes at the Converse rubber factory in the town where he grew up. I think of this tidbit every now and then when I slide off my kicks at the end of the day.

Our shoes tell us where we've been. Where we're going and {quite literally} where we stand at the moment. Everything tells a story {shoes included}. Maybe this is why I find myself photographing them so often.

Aside from being cute or practical, shoes share a story of environment and surroundings. Relaxed, dressed up, muddy... hey, even the whimsical photos with the cotton candy clouds and gigantic turquoise cowboy boot tells a story. {Texas is big baby. Big sky. Big boots.}

Can you feel the mood with the late evening sun shining in through the window at the end of a long day? So, where do you stand? What do your shoes speak of you? Try a different angle today, get down on the ground or shoot from above. Look and see if you can find a story of where you've been or where you hope to be going. I'd love to see where you stand!

graphic nature

When I first looked at this image I saw only the subject matter; my daughter in her new walking shoes and our camera shy canine on our evening gratitude walk. But there was something more that was drawing me in. As I studied the image, going beyond the subject matter, I noticed how frame was divided. Do you see it? Yep. There's an uncanny perfect symmetry to the shot that was holding my attention.

Graphic elements like line, shape, repetition, etc. can be highly effective compositional tools in photography and more specifically, graphic symmetry can bring harmony and balance to our imagery.

Have you found balance in a photo you've captured lately? Share something where symmetry made the shot.