Autumn We Dance Again — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
When I was a child I welcomed you. You were the harbinger of winter, my favorite season. The calendars in class marked the days with apples in September, pumpkins in October, and leaves in November. Football and cool weather held sway, while holiday specials with the Peanuts gang enchanted our evening. The days grew short and life stayed simple. It was easy.
In adolescence I accepted you with the grudging disaffected disinterest of an awkward teen. Everything was weird and new but you were somehow familiar. We tolerated each other, and I still had the coming onset of snow to long for.
As an adult I bent to your will. Each year you found news ways to deliver familiar tones of sadness. Loss and loneliness proved your calling card, and you seemed to take joy in my pain. Your growing cold and dimming light worked to push me further toward world weariness. Anxieties grew in the dark. Sadness festered in the cold corners of my mind. Emptiness filled my world, and you were always there mocking with a smug impartiality to it all. A season loved by so many kept me stunted and shirked aside. I had not invite to the party. Years turned to decades and I never fit in.
I have struggled with you for years. So much so it is of no worth to name you fall since the word is far too dire. I know search to flip the script. I Seek to write a new narrative. One of acceptance. One of purposeful restoration. I must learn to slow down and breathe. To be more accepting of your grace. Please take my hand and teach me how to dance, sweet Autumn, I don’t want to hurt anymore.
Serving up a soft focus dahlia on a Friday afternoon. Smooth and inviting this flower grows to soothe. When viewed through a macro lens we come close to the tiny tubular petals emblematic of the dahlia. These petals are numerous as they are fascinating. There must be 50 our more making up each full flower. This late season dahlia came to me by way of another splendid Eastlin Floral Design bouquet. As ever, Erin expertly plies her craft.
I am going to miss photographing flowers. As we pivot to autumn the opportunities grow fewer. As is the way of things. As I reflect back on this years floral work, I am satisfied with some of the photographs I have made. I have said it before and will again, were it not for flower macros I would never have learned to handle myself with a camera. The broad, sweeping landscapes would have never come to be. It is good to stick to roots that bear fruit, and I am happy to stick with my floral friends. Looking forward to honoring you again next year.
My heart grows a little bit softer remembering the inexplicable tragedy that struck 19 years ago today. May we all find a little more ease in troubled times.
Lilium Inter Spinas — 100mm | f/3.5 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/400
The lily among the thorns. As it is in Latin it is in life. Beauty bounded in time. The glove of power sleeved in subtlety. The self-governed restraint necessary for functioning freedom. Dualities of life shaded in paradox. Polarities bring balance. Gifting equilibrium to produce a harmonious stasis. Yet there is discord. An episodic if unpredictable dissonance that plays in temporary favor to tip the scales. Here there is emotion, often times uncomfortable and burdensome. It is here we are watered. It is here we learn to grow. I caution you yet, resolve not to reduce everything to a binary—it will prove a crutch. For life is seldom so simple.
To Sparkle in Your Eyes — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
Sunset last night did the thing. Mother Nature brought upon us a stunning evening light show. Set ablaze she caught fire to dance about the sky cloud dance floor. Moving and grooving. Glowing and flowing. A panoply of color set a course to smolder pure in a long deep burn. Locked in its gaze I paused to wonder how does such sparkling beauty come to be? Then I remember it is a true gift. And we are best to accept the truest of gifts as the unknowable wonders they are.
Shout out to Jonathan Carr of Weather NJ. Were it not for his text message, “No joke on this sunset,” some 15 minutes before sundown I would have with certainty remained on the couch. Disabused by what I can only describe as a decidedly mediocre New York Yankees ball club. I had been monitoring sky conditions all afternoon, and was aware of the potential. I simply was not up for it. I haven’t been up for much lately. Unwittingly Jon gave me the arm twist I needed. So all credit to him for this one. Without his interjection this photograph would not exist.
Is he posting this shot again? Yes. Think it’s time he finds, you know, a different angle at the very least? Also, yes.
I debated posting this photograph I made back on 25 August. It’s a an angle I have exploited on numerous occasions. And even though no two sunsets are the same, even I am growing worn thin by my lack of originality. (This coming from a notorious creature of habit.) Nevertheless I am rolling with it considering the rut I’m in and the insidious angst I feel. I am going through the motions and so my photos are going through the motions. Something about life imitates art.
Maybe it’s the comfort in familiarity that keeps me going back? Or maybe that’s little more than a double-edged sword. A safety net keeping me from breaking out and trying new things? Maybe it’s the slow churn of a global pandemic coupled with a deteriorating society fueling the angst? Maybe it’s the barrage of hot takes, baseless claims, and toxic passive aggression permeating social media post after social media post? Or maybe it’s the inevitable advance of fall? Or maybe it’s just me?
I’ve written before how this time of year weighs heavy on me—even in the best of times. Shortening days, the death of summer, the advance of the great browning. It all sets me on edge. I struggle to find comfort and solace knowing summer now sits an entire calendar year away. I’ve managed the past nine months or so with a one day at a time approach. Avoiding the pitfalls of thinking too much on an unknowable future. I must work to reclaim that mindset, cliché as it may be.
For anyone else out there struggling, worrying here we go again? Maybe it doesn’t have to be so hard this time? And better yet, maybe we’re far closer to something good than we could ever know? Keep hanging, y’all.
Sunshine in the Dark — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
I seek to channel the beauty found in sunset. I journey in search of the secret which sends the light of day toward darkness with such a flourish it stops the heart. Your breath escapes. Taken your gaze locks with the sky. She sees you seeing. A pastel wonder strewn across the deepening blue sky. It is with serene tenderness the gossamer glows. A smoldering ember eager to greet the night with sublime splendor. Never the same, always there. Together I seek to channel the beauty found in sunset.
Stop the Clocks — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
The calendar claims today as 23 August 2020. I wish it would stop shouting Summer is OVER. What happened to time? March was about 93 days long, and each month since lasts about a week and a half—tops. Shattered is our perception of time. Easy days whiling about hours once spent on beaches and fields find replacements in anxiety, uncertainty, and fraying society. And it is with speed these insidious malfeasants, uninvited as they are, rob us of our time. Stealing our present and hoarding our future.
And yet we soldier on and endure. We bide our time, turn to our strengths and cultivate purpose to prepare for the renaissance. Time will call to order again. The arrow of time, never directionless, will reassert its dominion and the universe will unfold as it should. Build trust. Know faith. Foster humility. Learn to grow. Live to love. Make yourself.
I happened myself into an opportunity to shoot a Canon EF 85mm f/1.2L II USM Lens for the first time on Saturday. Ho boy is it something else. This beast is the size of a grapefruit and weighs in at a hefty 2.26 pounds. You feel this lens. It’s a fine piece of engineering, and the chunk of glass within its blackened frame is prodigious. Everything about this lens means business. Cupped in your hands you feel every bit the seasoned photographer.
Its large size and weight is a well matched companion for the equally robust Canon 5D Mark III body. The pairing works well for me because I have large hands and enjoy extra weight as a preference. Smaller handed people not looking for a workout beware, as the heft may portend a limiting factor. I was in my element with both the weight and the ergonomics of the camera and lens combo. Though an hour plus of intense shooting left my right hand barking.
The image quality is where this beefy bad boy holds it down. I spent the entirety of my time shooting wide open, and I am beyond impressed with the results. Tack sharp, even wide open, killer bokeh, minimal barrel distortion, and fantastic color reproduction. Here you are only seeing a test photo made of my purple coneflowers, but this lens earns its reputation as a portrait lens. Rented for such a purpose, I used this lens on the beach to make birthday portraits for my dear friends’ one year old. We could not be more pleased with the results. Now I am left sitting here thinking I need this 85mm lens. Shut up and take my money, Canon.
