Greg Molyneux Photography

Category: Blog

Greg Molyneux’s latest photographs and words presented in reverse chronological order.

Nothing on the Top
Nothing on the Top — 35mm | f/1.4 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/1600
In most any work you attend you’re bound to hit the plateau. Elongated sessions of flat expense flanked by monotony—or worse yet—nothingness. It’s the grind. Lacking the mania and output of the peak, yet devoid the pain and failure of the valley. It’s an uneventful period of low growth. It’s difficult to parse lessons when you’re going through the motions. Instead the best you can do is convince yourself to trust the process. Give yourself the stick with it pat of the back trusting this inglorious stretch, too, must end.
This is where I’m at with my photography. Going through the motions. It started when my iMac died in April. With my workflow disrupted I’ve been struggling for inspiration to get out and shoot. It also hasn’t helped that I’ve missed out on a few great sunsets too. These things happen, though, and I must continue shooting to find it. I’ve been here before and have worked through it each time.
Another caveat in my travail is stagnation. I’m at a point with my work where it all seems more of the same. A shallow veneer atop the same photo we’ve seen before. Salt marsh sunset; wash, rinse, repeat. At least I’ve been making more flower shots this year than in years past, and that’s been a welcome break. Yet I itch for more. Can I scratch for different? A break from the comfort zone feels in order. For some time now I’ve had the urge to dip my toes into portraiture. Ever eager to talk myself out of things, this projected change is ripe for excuse making. First there is the gear investment: lenses, lighting, and some screen type apparatus. Yet it’s the second hill that seems hardest to climb. I need subjects. Real life humans willing to sit and work with a guy who is cutting his teeth with something new. I’ve floated the idea past friends and none are keen to engage. And if they are they’re keeping things coy.
Anyway, thanks for listening to my midnight ramblings as work my thoughts aloud by way of blog post. And besides, now is not the time to get too down—it’s summer!
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June 23, 2017
The Life Spectrum
The Life Spectrum — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
Life has returned to the salt marsh. Sea birds eager to feed. Chasing down fish schools and insect hatches if not willing yet able to provide said feed. The salt scented breezes lend rhythm to sedge grasses reanimated with life. Few things stir the soul like the nascent green of marsh born anew. Fresh color courses with unmasked energy as the circle of life finds its zenith. Only then when paired with the golden hue of the late day sun does nature pull back the veil on life resplendent.
It was just so out on Dock Road yesterday. The culmination of light, life, and timing. A sublime joy found in the realization of a patient annual wait. For the next six weeks or so we’ll find refuge in the glory of the salt marsh come live.
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June 18, 2017
Once Love
Once Love — 35mm | f/1.4 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/250
He once received a single red rose. On a break from the bustle at an ivy league coffee shop he sought refuge on a rooftop perch. It was his perch. Behind the cafe, cloistered in a brownstone alley he sat overlooking the parking lot he knew so well. Elevated, and hidden from the world set in motion below. Familiar chain linked fencing, dumpsters holding the byproduct of business, and the backside of the vintage record store a touch off in the distance contained a modest lot with parking meters marking each full space. It was a Friday evening and the town was alive. Princeton is a place that will stir the spirit. Academics, industrious students, professionals, bohemians, and tourists all come together in suburban paradise. Somehow modern, yet frozen in time. It’s equal parts tiny city and friendly home town from a bygone era full of thinkers, doers, dreamers, and seekers.
He loved this place and he loved her. Yet the rhythm of it all fell flat that night. A modest disagreement sent him to work amiss. Pulling espresso shots and crafting drinks he thought of her as he always did, though this time there was angst over their parting. Never did they fight and rarely did the disagree, but today they hit a bump. Somehow sensing his unrest with her colossal emotional intelligence she settled all without a word. She had a prodigious knack for such things. She always knew what to say. What to do. How to be. She could put anyone at ease with striking intuition. Somehow sensing the perfect greeting for a perfect stranger. This struck him more than anything. She fascinated him in all ways, but it was this trait the stood without equal. It was genius.
So there it was he sat. Perched alone, churning over the day’s events and fretting away the moments of his 10 minute break. It was then among a sea of red break lights he saw those red break lights. Out from the driver’s seat popped the striking silhouette of the finest young lady. Bearing no ill effects from the afternoon’s transgressions she bounded weightless from her door to a car windshield in a sea of nicer autos. It was there, under the driver side windshield wiper she placed a single red rose. Laid with all the care as if the world was watching. She never could have known he set up there watching. Stunned atop the rooftop his eyes filled with tears and he knew things were all right.
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June 11, 2017
Adornment
Adornment — 100mm | f/3.5 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/320
You know the grind. You feel it. It weighs heavy as you mire through life’s ebbs and flows. You cherish the highs and bury the lows. It’s in the space between you grind for purpose. Two steps forward. Two steps back. Captured in inescapable reality, caught in the throes of a fated cosmic dance.
You adorn your triumph and bury your loss. Unobserved to others the loss is still as real. No less massive, no less an equal equal force in the intwined gravitational balance. Only buried, left to rot and consume. Of course this is life. An impartial duality to remind you of inherent vitality sprinkled with uncertainty. The fearsome dive to the depths releases you to relish the inevitable rise to new heights. Actions need balance. Yet the weight of it all will pull you back to the grind. Working. Churning. Struggling. Steadfast to best understand what it all means. You’re tired. It is in these moments where you are best to open up; to show your full self warts and all. Let the world see you as you are, adorned with hope, fear, and the grinding middle ground we all feel.
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June 9, 2017
Pinky Peony
Pink Peony — 35mm | f/1.4 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/1000
I’m not one for literal titles yet here I am. Strange things, man, they happen. In their death throes now, my peonies had their proverbial moment in the sun in late May. Pink and glorious, oversized bulbous blossoms beautified my shrub bed with their bounty. Tissue paper petals bunched together in a gift package of pink, ready to welcome a newborn child. Hardly long for this world they bring a respite of joy to eager viewers keen to seek them out. Many people I know laude the coming of the peony, and I am happy to count myself among their rank.
On another note, does anyone have a trick to keep these things from bending under their own weight? Not long after bloom the flower heads take on the oppressed posture of a people suffering under the yolk of a tyrant. It’s unbecoming of their beauty and power. My peonies could use some support, you guys. It is clear The Man (me) has got them down.
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June 2, 2017
Look Inside
Look Inside — 100mm | f/3.5 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/320
May 2017 brought the rain. With it came puddles of mud and big blooms of flowers. Currently on display are the peonies. I have four peony plants about my front and back yards, each a slight variation of the species. I’m no botanist and cannot label the differences. Two of the peonies are of the pom-pom variety. Bulbous fluffy flower petals with plenty of fluff. The two others are more sparse of petal and unfurl to reveal a large bundle of pollen rich yellow stamen. The pink version is the one you see above. Its purple counterpart will not be in bloom this year thanks to an overgrown spirea.
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May 27, 2017
Identify Yourself
Identify Yourself — 100mm | f/3.5 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/640
My brain gets the best of me. Often I wrap myself sideways in details that stand meaningless to most. Mired in Minutia: A Greg Molyneux Memoir. Case in point, I present this photograph. I’ve been scrutinizing Google images for days, sweating over proper bee identification. Is it a bumblebee? A carpenter bee? A rusty patched bumblebee? Which until yesterday I knew nothing about; bombus affinis is one cool species name, though. Or is it some other bee I don’t even know about? Ah yes, the endless fretting of a runaway mind.
Taxed and unable to commit I sent a photo of my photo to Ben Wurst today. South Jersey’s Captain Planet, Ben’s the clear choice for local wildlife identification. Almost immediately Ben confirmed my suspicion. Declaring this here bee of the carpenter kind. Whew! Are you tired from this tedium, too?
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May 26, 2017
Speak Softly
Speak Softly — 100mm | f/3.5 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/80
Speak softly and carry a macro lens. And that’s enough Teddy Roosevelt for this post. Besides, I’m quite a loud talker. Despite being sans computer for the better part of the past month I was still out in my yard making photos. I’m sure my Mid-Atlantic flower peeps noticed the stellar wisteria bloom that manifest this spring. It was something else. When these little beauties go they create one of my favorite flowering spectacles. Tentacles of blossoms unfurl with columns of flowers serving as would be suction cups upon chlorophyll tentacles.
Centered in my backyard sits a small wisteria. It annoys me to know end come late spring; stretching without mercy to attach itself to most anything. These bad boys grow at an alarming rate. The only way to greet it is head on—trimming shears in hand—and on a regular basis. But during the years they bloom en masse, all the invasive conquest that comes later is worth it.
As for the photograph above we’ve got a few things working here. Some good and some accidental. The good? The light play. Rich afternoon light set up ideal conditions to capture the petite blossoms. The accidental? I was shooting handheld with my 100mm lens and not paying enough attention I dropped a 1/80 second exposure. As a general rule I like my exposure to be greater than or equal to the focal length of the lens. In this case an exposure greater than (re: faster than) or equal to 1/100 second. Holding to this formula helps keep your handheld shots sharp. Yet in this case the accidental soft focus builds on the photo. It drops a layer of whimsy onto the frame; a warm glow calming the soul. Sometimes our mistakes work in our favor.
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May 22, 2017
New Beginnings
New Beginnings — 35mm | f/1.4 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/5000
It was April 2010. After four reliable years with my first HP laptop—a machine which held together after drinking an entire Miller Lite—I moved onto my second HP. Loaded up with impressive horsepower this machine lacked the collegiate fortitude of its predecessor and left my services immediately following its second birthday. Fresh out of warranty I had a problem with the motherboard and my time was over with HP. It was here this lifelong PC user plucked an Apple from the tree.
I was a first time homeowner when I took the Cupertino Challenge. I have not looked back since. My priors with Apple machines included a few rounds of Oregon Trail played on an elementary school Macintosh, and a second generation iPod Nano I bought in college—back when my HP was drinking beer. When my iMac arrived in spring 2010 I was smitten. This is the first piece of technology I fell for. Once large screen ensconced in world class industrial design born of perfection. From the moment I pressed power and heard the ubiquitous chime I felt part of the family. I was all in.
For seven great years my 27″ iMac carried me. It’s been my digital partner through my entire photographic journey. While it finally began showing some age in 2016, it remained steadfast and reliable. A total workhorse through over a terabyte of photo storage and heavy processing. While not gone before its time, it finally called it quits in late April 2017. With a long expected iMac refresh due this fall I was hoping to get six more months of service time before pulling the trigger on its replacement. Alas that of best made plans.
And so this brings me here. Typing out my first blog post to share my first photo processed on Apple Number Two. This a MacBook Pro. I decided to go with a laptop for what is something of a two part replacement solution. This machine will more than hold me over until the new iMacs conjure into existence. If all goes well it will provide me a much needed mobile solution once I do get another desktop in 2018.
After near four weeks without a machine it feels great to be creative again. Back on the photo grind. Back on the blog grind. I missed it. I missed sending work out into the world. It’s good to be back.
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May 21, 2017