Greg Molyneux Photography

Category: Blog

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

  • This is how you sunset

    HDR sunset taken along the south marsh on Cedar Run Dock Road. The intense pastels and cloud structure are the landscape hallmarks here.
    This is how you sunset — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    Thank you, Mother Nature. I am one shimmying fool.

    It’s been a long time, man (and women and boys and girls). Sunsets have been alluding me for the better part of Summer. That certainly changed with a flourish today. As I was down on Dock Road shooting I honestly didn’t know what direction to fix my tripod. With three hundred and sixty degrees of awesomesauce happening it was damn hard to choose.

    In the end I went a few I my favorite things: I was able to get the octagon house in the shot and the Moon. Excellent. Seriously though, this one is all on happenstance. The sky produced with unreal cloud patterns and color this day. All I had to do was show up.

  • Tucked away in there that’s the Fall

    A low key fine art black and white photograph of a small pine cone tucked away between pine tree branches. Sharp contrast and shallow depth of field add to the mood.
    Tucked away in there that’s the fall — 100mm | f/3.5 | ISO 400 | EXP 1/250

    I’m not sure why but when I see pine cones I automatically make the association to Fall. A quick googling tells me this is the time of year said cones are approaching their max size and thereby most noticeable (even though the subject here is a little guy—no more than an inch in length), so I reckon it’s as simple as that. Not much mystery to this passing observation.

    I’ve had my battles with the Fall but this year I’m going to focus on its upside. Most notably: the pictures I’m going to take. Heading into Fall and Winter I know that fog, foliage, amped up sunsets, and snowfall are in store for my camera and I. And moving out of Summer, which for me is the least interesting time photographically, I am excited at what the future holds. I’ve been jonesing to get out there and shoot more. Here comes my chance.

  • There’ll be nobody home

    This square format photograph features a cross processed treatment of a painted lady butterfly at three quarters perspective and from the rear. The buttery smooth bokeh and shallow depth of field draws attention to the butterfly as it rests on a freshly bloomed sedum.
    There’ll be nobody home — 100mm | f/4 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/160

    I arrived home from the foothills of eastern Pennsylvania stretched and worn. Bettered but battered after a long weekend celebrating my cousin’s pending nuptials. A good yet exhaustive time was had by all.

    Leaving the cousin’s shiny new F-150 my mind clung to the imminent hopes of a hot shower and a nap—here it is, victory. Or so I thought. Immediately out the truck I noticed 1) my sedum have finally blossomed, and 2) a butterfly had finally come to rest on one my flowers. I’d seriously been waiting all season for this.

    With the shower and nap plan on hiatus I grabbed my gear and tried to get a capture. I only got off two shots before this common butterfly was scared away for good—my approach wasn’t exactly one of stealth—and neither of which were from a frontal perspective. Even still I connect with the story this image tells. One of time. The never ending story of the inescapable passage of all things. And somewhere out there is the future we can’t quite see.

  • Working under cover

    In this low key macro photograph of a Black-eyed Susan (yellow daisy), miniature insects are working in unison under the cover of the illuminated yellow flower petals and rich bokeh fades out the background.
    Working under cover — 100mm | f/4 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/400

    Yellow daisies. Shoot ’em while they last.

    Last week I was taking advantage of the late afternoon sun to create some dramatic flower macros with my Black-eyed Susans backdropped by a Japanese Maple. Some folks find too much sun a bad thing with their flower macros while I find it to be a most useful ally. It affords me stark contrast in lighting, muting the background to a smooth, dark bokeh.

    Now that’s all well and good but it wasn’t until I got behind the viewfinder that I saw what was really going on down there; roughly a dozen as of now unidentified insects dutifully consuming what I can only guess is some kind of sugar on the flower stem—please someone correct my ignorance: I’d love to know the type of bug, and what they were doing there. Thanks! Their legs were awful close to an ant’s however the abdomen was much different; oblong, elongated and raised toward the rear.

    At the end of the day shooting macro once again reminds me just how much is going on right under our very noses (all hail the mighty cliché). This is what drove me to become a photographer. Before I ever dreamed of shooting wide angle landscapes it was macro and macro alone that fueled my initial instruction and experimentation behind the lens.

  • Sit for a moment?

    A cross processed wide angle HDR landscape photograph of a park bench, beach sand, and Barnegat Bay just at sunset. Dramatic clouds dominate the sky and a cool blue tone brings a real calming influence to the image.
    Sit for a moment? — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    After an afternoon palling around with Jon and cousin Dan—a jaunt that included a surprise bridal shower drop-off, some tasty burgers, cigars and some bayside Weiβe bier Quelle style—we made our way to Sunset Park in Surf City, New Jersey, for sunset. The place was happening (always nice to see); young and old, Long Beach Island revelers were out in force to pay homage as we spin from the sun.

    Looking back it wasn’t the most spectacular of sunsets, however there was such a subtle late summer calm to the whole scene. Using the park bench in the foreground speaks the perfect narrative for a shore community and a landscape that has brought such great memories to so many. As we prepare to say goodbye to another summer we can’t forget to stop, breathe, take it all in and sit for a moment.

  • Just last night

    A long exposure wide angle landscape photograph taken at night just in front of the lake at Stafford Forge Wildlife Management Area. Low clouds race across a sky that's back-dropped with stars.
    Just last night — 14mm | f/2.8 | ISO 400 | EXP 30 sec

    It wasn’t until my buddy Jon and I were heading back over Manahawkin Bay en route to the mainland by way of the causeway bridge that we took note of the sky; brightly lit low hanging clouds were racing across it, seemingly illuminated by the light pollution below. Once back at my house we quickly decided to make a run for Stafford Forge Wildlife Management Area for photographs. I hadn’t been night shooting in a while and was more excited by the idea than usual.

    Once there the clouds had filled in a bit more than we would have liked. And the bugs? Well, they were doing annoying bug things. But after about a half hour some clearing came to bear and brought some stars into the exposure. This shot was my last of the night and it just so happens to be my favorite.

  • Still remains

    A brooding noir macro photograph of a wilting Black-eyed Susan yellow daisy. Finished with a low key sepia treatment and grain (added noise), the picture takes on ominous tones.
    Still remains — 100mm | f/4 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/400

    Stylistically I am drawn to deep brooding imagery crying out to the darker corners of the human condition. For me there is almost always an immediate emotional connection to the pain, an empathy of sorts. You see it is not lost on me that our deepest struggles, our rawest emotions, can fuel the creative process and become something more. Something beautiful. Perhaps even more important than the art we create is the catharsis that it brings to ourselves and to others.

  • Beeswax, are you minding it?

    In this macro photograph a carpenter bee is captured from behind as it pollinates a quick fire hydrangea, basking in golden hour light.
    Beeswax, are you minding it? — 100mm | f/4 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/250

    This shot is a holdover from this past Sunday. I spent a good half hour stalking my quick fire hydrangea as it lay awash in rich golden light and carpenter bees. Despite the abundance of airborne insects doing their pollinating thing it what seemed like fast forward, I couldn’t get a single carpenter bee to stop let alone face toward me. Left with just the business end of the abdomen, I’m still happy with the result.

  • These colors are not your own

    A cross processed wide angle landscape photograph taken during golden hour at Stafford Forge Wildlife Management Area. The purple hues and single solitary pine at the end of a meadow grass ensconced dirt road create a whimsical, almost melancholy mood in the scene.
    These colors are not your own — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/25

    See that tree over there? The sparse one to the left rising up and all alone? Good. I couldn’t stop seeing it either. Everywhere I walked yesterday that quiet, unassuming tree kept reaching out for my attention—intimating its desire to be seen but never at the expense of being the center of attention. It carried a quiet confidence, overcoming its superficial loneliness; with each passing moment I became more and more convinced this tree was perfectly happy with its existence, with its place—hiding in plain sight. I as much as anyone can appreciate that.