But wait, there’s more! — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
While I already posted my 2015 retrospective last Thursday, I have to say this photograph would have garnered at minimum a passing consideration for the best of list. The depth and definition in the clouds of yesterday’s sunset sky was something else; undulating clouds positioned at multiple levels set the stage for dramatic interplay of light and shadows. The whole scene started out pretty mundane but once the sun dropped below the horizon a slow but steady pastel pulse colored in the clouds over the next 10 minutes. Soon the whole of the sky was ablaze. Wisps of stretched cotton candy stretched and pulled in the atmosphere winds setting the backdrop for the low-level cloud deck you see encroaching from the right, just above the horizon in an intimidating Star Destroyer lurch.
Taking a step back my hope is that this sky opens the gate for the glory of winter sunsets. This color was associated with a frontal boundary that finally brought seasonal temperatures to the mid-Atlantic. We’ve been impossibly warm this December and while some unplanned warmth is sure to prolong flip-flop season, it’d be nice to get some arctic air drama lighting up the sky as it did yesterday afternoon on Dock Road. Polar Vortex I implore you.
Never quite the same — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
Never quite the same | Taken: February 23, 2015 | Location: Antoinetta’s Restaurant, Cedar Run Dock Road, Stafford, NJ
If you’re thinking didn’t this shot show up last year? you’d be at least half right. Antoinetta’s made an appearance in my best of 2014 list with a great sunset last year. So while I thought for half a second about striking this one from the list, I couldn’t do it—I like the shot too much. I’m a winter lover first and foremost, photography of an ice-locked bay is always going to rise to the top. Such is the way of bias.
Fall in love with the forest over and over again — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
When I wrapped up on March 6, 2015 there was no doubt that was my Best Day Shooting™ yet. Between the fresh snow, the picturesque pines, the frozen lake, and primetime golden hour light, conditions were perfect for making an I’m really going to like this, aren’t I? kind of a photograph. This confluence brought memories of my time growing up playing in the woods of East Brunswick. Memories that while occasionally overlooked, will hopefully last a lifetime. Having a photograph I made at the ready to trigger such thoughts is an added plus.
Bayside Living — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
Bayside Living | Taken: May 17, 2015 | Location: Holgate, Long Beach Island, NJ
This was the result of a smidge of exploration. A task as simple as checking out some previously unexplored bayside street ends until something looks good. Enter this house. Defiant in its solidarity I was drawn to its lines, and in this shot the lines are everything. Drawing the eye down the side of the house, out along the dock, and finally out to the vanishing point—the sun itself. Couple that with some dramatic cloud action and you’ve got something. The way the blue and purple at the top-right does battle with the orange and yellow to the middle-left lends an added level of balance and interest to the shot. This one’s definitely in my top 5 for the year.
The Great Gig in the Sky — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/5
The Great Gig in the Sky | Taken: May 28, 2015 | Location: Spray Beach (possibly), Long Beach Island, NJ
If I remember correctly this photograph was borne out of chicken wings. En route to The Chicken or the Egg with friends some crazy sunset drama started happening over the ocean to the east. One of those reverse side sunsets that only pop a handful of times per year. Somewhere in Spray Beach—we think—we took a quick left and made for the beach. As soon as we crossed the berm the magic and pink hue dominated the landscape. I’m hard pressed to ever remember that kind of glow out over the ocean. Just this warm pink-orange glow. It was more aura than natural sunlight. It was nothing short of amazing. My heart was pounding.
Eager to capture the essence of the scene while trying to remain calm and observant was a task in and of itself. The clock was ticking—this kind of color was only going to hold out for a few minutes, so acting quickly but smartly was key. Within seconds noticing the good fortune of low tide I spied a section of exposed jetty rock and I’m pretty sure I fist pumped and dropped and audible hell yeah! With my camera fixed atop my tripod I bolted as fast as I could down the beach. This didn’t last very long. You see a calf injury from an early jogging incident decided to flare up and lock up. From here it was a teeth grinding limp-sprint to get in place and make the shot. Thankfully I pulled it together and made one of my all time favorites—and I’m not just talking 2015.
In Morning — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
In Morning | Taken: June 14, 2015 | Location: Cedar Run Dock Road, Stafford, NJ
What? An actual sunrise? How could I not put this in here? Being bad at mornings it’s a rare occurrence for me to get up and at ’em with the sun. No doubt a shame as I’m missing opportunities to capture the beach in all its morning glory, but I digress. Being a week out from the solstice the sun’s up super early in mid-June and this photograph was made around 5:30 a.m. I was able to cheat waking up early because I was still up from the night before. Convenient. Unable to sleep I knew I wanted to head for Dock Road’s north side marsh exposure. I’m a big fan of this meandering bend and wanted to make the most of an opportunity to get the sun out over it. Fortunately that worked out quite nicely under a brooding deck of clouds.
Live alone in a paradise — 100mm | f/3.5 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/1600
Live alone in a paradise | Taken: July 16, 2015 | Location: Ocean Acres, Manahawkin, NJ (my backyard)
Ah for my love of macro. I will always have a soft spot for floral macros. It’s where I cut my teeth in photography, and I love admiring all sorts of plants and flowers up close and personal through the viewfinder. Purple coneflowers—featured here—are a favorite subject of mine, and this holds true through all phases of their development from pre-bud to death. I’m using a portrait orientation here to create room and balance with the vertical lines of my deck spindles to the rear; backed with a nice soft bokeh to bring out the flower itself. I am drawn to the softness and space of the composition coupled with the flower petals working in and out of focus thanks to a very shallow depth of field.
Daedalus Bid You Take Heed — 100mm | f/3.5 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/125
Sticking with the flower theme I’m rolling with one that’s made with my favorite medium: black and white. Here I’m focusing on elements of simplicity, strong contrast, negative space, symmetry, and abstraction. I’ve taken a lone purple coneflower bud that never quite blossomed and shot it dead on overtop. Staring down the viewfinder the flower triggered images of our sun. But not exactly our sun in its traditional sense, instead more like something you might see hanging in an elementary school student’s Heliosphere diorama. Maybe it’s just be but I cherish these kind of associations.
Unplanned Deviation | Taken: August 13, 2015 | Location: Great Bay Boulevard, Little Egg Harbor, NJ
File this one under happy accidents. I was all geared up to head to Stafford Forge but had to deviate at the last moment because cars. That’s right, the Forge was loaded down with people, all 15 of them, and I simply was not prepared for that. Before I was even off the Garden State Parkway I had singled out Great Bay Boulevard as my plan B. This was a good thing. Conditions were beautiful, visibility was strong under clear air, and the marsh was still in its vibrant green glory. While locking in my position I had the pleasure to be within earshot of two older gentlemen regaling themselves with stories of good times. You could say it was just one of those great summer nights people wax poetic about on the Jersey Shore. Heh.
Back Home in the Comfort Zone — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
Here’s one of those this has grown on me photographs. Made during a one day layover back in my hometown sandwiched between two vacations, I shot at my go-to spot on Dock Road—this was as much a decision of recalibration as it was a chance to spend some time behind the camera again. I’m a creature of habit so these kind of moments mean the world to me when I’m pulled away from my creature comforts for too long. What I like most about this shot is the marsh itself. Being way down low and close in on the grasses, I’m captivated with how the marsh comes into and out of focus as your eye moves out toward the horizon. This is the result of a strong breeze that was pushing the grass combined with just enough lazy shutter to get the motion down. This was an effect I did not fully notice until post processing when I saw the image blown up to a better size.
A Toast to Autumn — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
A Toast to Autumn | Taken: October 16, 2015 | Location: Cedar Run Dock Road, Stafford, NJ
I’m always a little bummed when the marsh finally dies out for the season. The Great Browning we call it derisively. I partly exacerbate this because let’s face it, Fall just ain’t my season. But with all that said, this photograph really captures the beautiful amber essence that is autumn. We’ve had an almost impossibly warm and beautiful Fall here in New Jersey, and I tapped into that mojo here. So here’s until next year, marsh. To when your glorious green grasses return.
We Face the Path of Time — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
We Face the Path of Time | Taken: December 8, 2015 | Location: Great Bay Boulevard, Little Egg Harbor, NJ
While a derider could decry recency bias, these final two shots happened on my new Best Day Shooting™ yet. Just over two weeks ago some seriously stellar conditions descended upon the region. I had the good fortune to be in just the right spot at just the right time—of course lately SunsetWx has played a big part at infusing some sunset science into said fortune. Whatever it was, it all came together on Great Bay Boulevard, and I was able to compose a frame I am proud of. People are back in forth on this shot and the one below it, but for me this one is not only my best photograph of 2015, it’s my best photograph yet. How long will it stand?
Ruinous Splendor | Taken: December 8, 2015 | Location: Great Bay Boulevard, Little Egg Harbor, NJ
At the height of the shoot I was concerned We Face the Path of Time wasn’t cutting it, and by cutting it, I mean making the most of the conditions (light, glassy water, posts, and clouds). This photograph was the product of that paranoia. Right around peak light I abandoned my spot out on the dock and retreated for the main bulkhead where I quickly composed what some have taken to calling the I — II — II — X shot. Quite possibly one of the most intense scenes I’ve photographed, there’s plenty to like about this picture—Flickr user and photographer E.P. Scott makes the best case. Strip away everything else I’m most pleased with the prominence of the pillars popularly enumerated with roman numerals, backlit by a sky that can best be described as hellfire.
Here’s to 2015. Thank you everyone for being part of my journey—your support and participation is fully appreciated. In the meantime take a look back to 2014 and let’s see what’s in store for 2016. Cheers.
With Tumbled Locks and Broken Codes — 40mm | f/5.6 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/250
Let’s shimmy back to summertime, shall we? It’s late December here in the mid-Atlantic and we’re staring a week’s worth of temps in the 60s and 70s. Exactly how Bing Crosby drew it up. With this kind of unseasonable warmth funneling through the region it’s hard not to think back to warmer climes. Of course this is a convenient excuse to post a photograph I’ve been sitting on since the 9th of August. Cripes. Not wanting to carry over any lingering photographs into 2016 you’re getting it now.
Hopping back to August I remember this day well enough. It started out early—pre-dawn in fact—as Ben Wurst and I made way in the infamous “Otter Boat.” Complete with gunnels so low a two inch rogue wave could sink this ship. Sure I’m exaggerating but it’s a pretty small vessel. Perfect for quick hit exploration of our intracoastal salt marsh. Our original intent, other than infringing on my innate desire to sleep forever, was one of sunrise. The plan was to make for a bit of sandbar in the middle of Great Bay. A place only exposed during periods of low tide. While tides were good, the clouds were not. It was such a serene morning it was hard to think of our efforts as a bust in spite of the cloudless sky. Here we were two dudes cruising around a glassy Great Bay in a low rider. Not too shabby.
Before heading in we made for the great ruin of our area—the Crab Island Fish Factory. For decades this once profitable fish processing plant has remained a derelict. Nevertheless dominating the Great Bay Boulevard skyline (such as it is). It’s dereliction accelerated during the post-Sandy years, but it does have a pretty neat Ebbets Field connection. I’ve wanted to get out there to explore long before my photographer days, but I never had the means. Of course flip-flops aren’t exactly recommended footwear for exploration of an abandoned island. Particularly one covered in poisonous plants and littered in glass, rusted metal, unknown wildlife, and who else knows what. We did not explore far, but I did manage to make this photograph of what must have been thousands of broken seashells strewn about an asphalt pier. Most likely the result of sea birds dropping clamshells to expose their fleshy, protein rich prey.
I definitely hope to exploit more photo opportunities at the fish factory in the future. For now you can take a pretty sweet arial tour thanks to some drone footage made a few short weeks after our impromptu visit. The title is a lyrical inspired shout-out to Lera Lynn’s most excellent song, “The Only Thing Worth Fighting For.” At the time of this photograph I was knee deep in True Detective season 2, so that’s the connection.
Does this count as self portraiture? I’m not certain but this may count for salvaging a sunset shoot. How salvaged? Only you can be the judge of that. Sunset sits the saddle of boom or bust. For a moment yesterday seemed headed for boom town, but instead just kinda petered out into grey-blue darkness. But that’s all good.
Eager to make something out of nothing I thought why not hop into my own picture for a change? Could be cool, right? Simply set the timer to 10-seconds and find a spot that seems to be on one of the outer thirds of the frame. Hard to go wrong with the rule of thirds. Once in position I remained as still as possible knowing I was popping off 7 brackets. Total excess I’m sure, but hip-hip-hooray for digital storage.
The last bit of the workflow brought some cross processing in post production. A final effort to complete a different look that seemed fitting for what was a different kind of shoot. It seemed fitting to layer over a washed out veil of mood. With a new year fast approaching it only makes sense to look ahead to the future with equal parts trepidation and wonder. I’m trying to collect my own thoughts to figure out where my photography should head in 2016. Do I try something completely new? Like portraiture? Revisit some kind of photo project like the one that got all this started in 2012? Identify an area of weakness for focus and improvement? Or maybe try deeper forays into shameless self-promotion? Of course I could follow the Greg Molyneux as water M.O. and seek out the path of least resistance to keep doing what I’m doing? Or some kind of mash-up combination? That said there are two things I do know: 1) I want to do more black and white, and 2) in the very near term I need to get cracking on my best of 2015 post so it’s ready to go come Christmas Eve.
Heads up, New Jersey. Event incoming. Sure it’s some 9 months away, but I’m beyond pleased to share with you that I’ll be a small part of a great big event at Manahawkin Lake on September 17, 2016. The 2nd annual Makers Festival will be unleashed upon the world, and I’ll be there peddling my wares. If you managed to attend last year’s event you know firsthand the fantastic production that is Makers Fest. But if you’re looking for more insight, you should absolutely check out their website, Facebook page, and Instagram account. Their follow comes with the highest recommendation.
As part of their highly organized and ardently purposeful marketing efforts all 2016 vendors were asked to provide answers to some or all of the following interview questions. Considering I’ve got this here website I thought why not blog out my answers here? So here goes:
Makers Fest Asks:
What is one thing you would like the public to know about your business?
I’m very new to the whole business aspect of this venture, so really I’d just want the people to know that I’ve recently launched my online SmugMug shop. It’s currently a work in progress, and I still plan on servicing requests for custom framed pieces, but the online shop is the place to go for quick and easy ordering, printing, and shipping of my work.
Where do you see yourself and your craft 5 years from now?
Obviously I want to continue to learn, grow, and improve in as many aspects of photography as possible; continually honing my workflow, strengthening my portfolio, and better representing the underrepresented beauty of New Jersey—with a particular focus on coastal and southern areas. Beyond that, I’d love to experiment with shooting film, creating video and time lapse productions, and becoming an evangelist of sorts for all this wonderful nature surrounding my home town of Manahawkin and the broader LBI region. In a perfect world I could merge my skill of public speaking with my passion for photography in a union that would bring knowledge, connection, and learning to any audience willing to listen.
Is your business a hobby, full-time work, or both?
Considering I’m now selling work it’s going to be tough to make my case as this being just a hobby, though that’s still how I parse it out in my own head. I work full time in a fulfilling career that is wholly separate from my photography. I think of my time behind the lens as a detachment from the day-to-day world that can even in the best of professions mire us all. While I’d love to someday have the good problem of making photographs as a singular profession, I don’t want this hobby to ever feel like work. I’d regret any attempt to monetize if the joy was stripped away at the hands of aggressive, business-type demands that can erode the creative process. But that wouldn’t exactly be a #FirstWorldProblem I’d cry too much about.
What would your advice be to others looking to start something similar?
Shoot. Shoot. And shoot some more. Did I forget to say go shoot? Oh, and don’t worry too much about your gear. Starting out as a complete neophyte photographer in 2012 with zero expectations and little to no camera experience, I participated in a photo a day project that saw me end the year with over 25,000 photographs taken on a used, first generation Canon Digital Rebel—they didn’t even have model numbers back then. Throughout the process I had heard all about how you need to get through your first 10,000 pictures. That these would be your worst, and that this kind of spray and pray method to photography was essential for gaining the skill for making good photographs. In my case, it was true. By the middle of 2012, things started to click, and here are there I began creating images that actually looked like they were made by someone who almost had a clue. It was a good, albeit unexpected development and I haven’t looked back.
So get out there. Do it every day. Photograph everything. Experiment with the different manual settings to see how these choices affect your final image. Celebrate your victories, learn from your losses, and reward yourself for hitting your goals—even if it’s committing to take a picture a day for a month. Most important: have fun. As soon as it feels like a chore it’s over. Oh, and if you think you want to be a landscape photographer do invest in a sturdy tripod—that’s one bit of gear you should prioritize.
What is your favorite part about working in the creative field?
Stress relief and bringing joy to others. It’s equal parts humbling and empowering to watch someone react positively to something you had a hand in creating. It makes all the ups and downs, all the effort, all the focus, and all those times you just want to throw in the towel worth it. It’s a gift to open up to others such that they too can share an experience.
What do you think the most common misconception is about your craft?
The belief that gear is everything. Now I’m not saying equipment doesn’t matter, or won’t bring some improvement to your photographs, but it’s not the panacea for great pictures, either. The greatest camera and lens combo in the world will not magically conjure great lighting conditions, or manifest interesting foreground to compose your frames for you. And considering these powerhouse devices we’ve got kicking around in our pockets, a great photograph is only a click away from your mobile device. I’m continually impressed with the photographs I can make right on my iPhone. So do yourself a favor: don’t let costly gear be a barrier to entry. The drain on your wallet can always come later.
What inspires your work?
A combination of wanting to show off our area for all its worth, and a competitive drive to be the very best I can be. When I see the magnificent work of others and the hair on the back of my neck stands up, I think to myself, that’s how I hope people respond to my work someday. That’s what drives me.
Why did you choose to participate in The Makers Festival?
First of all I love every single thing your organization is doing. Every. Single. Thing. Highlighting the undercurrent of local talent that has largely flown under the radar in a region that’s not exactly known for a happening art scene. It’s better yet that this is an organization run by women. I’m all about doing stuff outside the norm that breaks free of the tropes, perils, and frankly boredom of patriarchal paradigms. I can’t say enough how great it is to be part of something new and different. I’m honored and surprised to be selected among such a talented crew of artists, creators, and makers. You’re creating opportunity where there was none, and working to put the LBI region on the map for more than just its sunny beaches and seasonal watering holes.
What motivates you in the face of adversity?
I’d like to sit here and mash out words to suggest this is an area of strength and experience. Truthfully adversity and I have a mixed record, but I’m working hard to appreciate the necessary relationship with adversity, failure, and struggle recognizing they are key ingredients to any learning process. The most important takeaway? Sometimes the stress and discomfort will open new doors that were otherwise unseen. My own relationship with photography was born of such struggle.
If you could choose any superpower, what would it be and why?
Time travel. As a lover of history I’d be endlessly educated if I could travel to key places and points of time. If only to simply observe what actually happened. I wouldn’t want to change things and create some kind of paradox in the spacetime continuum, I’d just want to sit and observe first hand as a time traveling fly on the wall, able to better assess events as they actually happened such that I could measure them against narratives that have become for better or for worse ingrained in conventional wisdom.
Fade Out — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
For those of you following my photos on the regular—thank you!—you know I like vibrant, contrasty colors for my landscapes. The more color the better. But in processing last night’s shot (today) I wanted to produce a kinder, gentler final image. A more subtle hand to photograph and capture the calm, soothing blues that crept out over Ship Bottom’s bay beach as the final fading moments of light packed up their things for the daily migration west.
In spite of a promising cloud deck sunset never fully fired yesterday, and in this case I’m not even a trifle bit upset by that. After the world class light that’s been pumping in of late it was nice to take a breather to sit back and appreciate a true blue hour. This shot was made a good 25–30 minutes after full sundown, and coupled with the unseasonably mild temperatures (it’s cracked 70 the past two days across New Jersey) it was a real treat to make December photographs in short sleeves. Many rejuvenated revelers were out and about with their cameras, pets, and bicycles, while couples went walking hand-in-hand. It was just all so nice to see.
Compositionally I’ll go as far as to say I did the best I could. Until I arrived I was forgetful of the fact that at this time of year, with the winter sun setting in the southwest, angles get a little tough on many of LBI’s westward exposures. Sunset Point in Ship Bottom is surely no different. With the Point itself completely out of the the picture, I made my way about 200 feet south along the bay beach and decided to make my final stand at this little section of dune fence. Forever fond of said dune fence from my days of yore maintaining the public spaces with Ship Bottom Public Works, it was this or just an open expense of heavily traveled beach sand. The fence seemed the better play.
Familiarity sure is comforting. A place of positive past experience lends confidence if only in having been there before. I revisit spots constantly. More often than not trying to take a different angle to compose the frame in a new way so as to change the perspective—you know, so as not be completely repetitive. Subtle shifts in angle—side-to-side or up-and-down—coupled with a height change in camera body elevation relative to the ground can make all the difference in your final shot. This paired with ever changing cloudscapes and light play, and you’re likely seldom if ever to encounter identical shooting conditions even if you are one to revisit the friendly confines familiar ground.
This was certainly me today. I’ve got a bunch of photographs made from this little spot of roadside—seen here, here, here, here, and here—and even still it’s always worth a retread. This creates an iterative anthology over time documenting how a place both does and does not change. For me, here on Cedar Run Dock Road, it drives home just how much the marsh does change as it cycles through the time, the season and the tide. It’s certainly brought me to a place of greater appreciation for the diverse environmental sensitivities in my own community.
While the shot above is from a different spot entirely, its color cast reminds of a wintertime sunset I captured back in February of 2014. Very similar pink, yellow, and blue tones in these two pictures. Pretty cool to see that glow come back around. To spin off into a little bit of a tangent I may start making these kind of connections as part of my blogging; marrying current photographs with past shots where appropriate. It may help to better connect the narrative as I journey down the photographer’s path—what exactly that path is? I do not know.
We Face the Path of Time — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
I’m still basking in the glow of last night’s awesomesauce. And as much as I like the photograph posted last night, this one beats it out ever so slightly as far as I’m concerned. I realize we’re splitting hairs here and traipsing into the realm of subjectivity. But that’s all part of the fun—it doesn’t matter what I like, all that matters is what you like. While we’re all in this together we get to bring our own experience and thought into each and every photograph. And that’s p kool as far as I’m concerned.
In my previous post I talked about how I was all over the place trying to lockdown an ideal composition worthy of a killer sunset. The spot above is where the lion share of hemming and hawing went down. I just couldn’t get locked in. Do I get low? Do I go high? How many poles should I incorporate from the dock in my foreground? How much marsh should I capture along the right side of the frame? Is it balanced with the water to the left? On it went. Ultimately I settled in at a spot straddling a missing piece of board along the gangway. It wasn’t quite as precarious as it sounds, but when you’ve got camera equipment you care about riding the edge of no tomorrow there’s always pause for concern. But remember the mantra: you do what it takes to make the shot. That’s especially true when you’ve got light on a level that only happens a handful of times a year. Of course the fact that I bailed on this position to make last night’s shot, which at the moment I thought of as a last ditch effort to make a better image, speaks to trusting your instincts. The upshot to this indecision? I’ve got two damn fine photographs to add to my stockpile.
I — II — II — X . . . if roman numerals are your thing.
How about tonight’s sunset, New Jersey? Conditions from Great Bay Boulevard were just about as good as it gets—30+ minutes of standout light play working off intricate cloud structures overtop reflective bay water. If air guitar’s your thing, now would be the time.
Normally in this situation I settle into my composition quite naturally. It’s a rare area of decisiveness for me, and I almost wholly rely on my first instinct and ride out that whim compositionally. Usually a quick walkthrough of my target location—stopping occasionally to just look down the viewfinder from at most a handful of positions and angles. Once that’s locked in I grab my tripod, dial in, and wait. Wait for the big time color that comes after the sun goes down. Free and easy, just how I like it.
This afternoon on the other hand I was all out sorts, bouncing around from spot to spot struggling to find the ideal angle to shoot. At first I thought I had it only to be moments later second guessing myself. This process repeated several times over. For the next twenty minutes or so. Down to the end, really. This photograph here came seconds after full sprint running, camera still fixed to tripod from the spot I thought I was going to ultimately choose—I will share its photograph here tomorrow.
Suffice to say today I was fated to work for it. And that’s OK, because you know what? That sky tonight was incredible and it was good to feel the pressure of wanting to make the absolute most of a rare opportunity before it fades. Or maybe this was just an ill-timed dance with perfection questioning my best? Even so, I’m choosing to take this experience as an overwhelming positive. Start to finish tonight’s shoot was just awesome. Easily the best of the year. Would do it again.
