Greg Molyneux’s latest photographs and words presented in reverse chronological order.
Today was a day for flower macro stress decompression. In between course testing while working from home I picked up the camera and made my rounds throughout the yard. Stopping at the daisies, tiger lilies, and finally my backyard honeysuckle. It didn’t bloom last year so I’m happy to report its blooms are at the ready and won’t be held down this summer. No sir.
Photographing the salt marsh is not without trade-offs. In winter deep color sunsets rendered almost daily reign supreme; while in summer, the rich awakening of lush green marsh grass tells our eyes all they need to know that summer is here. Each are splendid in their own way.
Tonight was my first night shooting wide angle in what feels like ages, and I haven’t been to Dock Road in I can’t remember how long. Let’s put it this way, last I laid eyes on the marsh it was only showing the slightest hint of nascent green spread thinly over the muted expense. Seeing the rolling green tonight was invigorating. And while I wound up clouded out of a promising sunset, I still captured an enticing glimpse of the marsh imbued with life once again.
Update: gonna be one short for the show. The big guy, Winter has its ways will not be making an appearance. It’s all for the best, though.
Strange things are afoot at the Circle K.
Exciting things are happening this weekend. The M.T. Burton Gallery is hosting its first ever Summer Art Opener featuring eight local artists—including myself! Gulp.
This is a pretty big first for me. I’ve never shown my work. Hell, aside from a framed print I donated for a charity auction last summer, I’ve never even had prints ordered up before. Until now I’ve stuck purely to digital images posted online only. That’s been my comfort zone.
Now I’m out of it. I’m stepping into unchartered territory, and not without trepidation. I’ve got to be honest, were my friends Jeff Ruemeli (hand blown glass art) and Ben Wurst (reclaimed woodworking) not also participating there’s no way I’d have the courage to go through with this. Power in numbers and all that jazz.
As for the event, it’s going down this weekend June 6th–8th at the M.T. Burton Gallery in Surf City, New Jersey. If you’re out and about on Long Beach Island this weekend looking for something different to do, stop by and say hello. There’s activities planned for both Friday and Saturday evening—featuring live music, a clam bake, juggling, and more!
The gallery above represents the ten photographs I’ve selected for the show. Special and serious shout out to Ben Wurst who’s done all the custom reclaimed framing. The work looks spectacular and it wouldn’t be anywhere near as good without his splendid touch. Seriously man, thank you.
It’s been some kind of day. One of those gems where nothing quite seems to work as it should—as you need it to. I’ve been holding onto this peony photograph for a few days and now seems like the opportune time to post; I can use a bit of lift. Scheduling woes, chronic procrastination, and an upcoming art show have wrought the end of the rope for this guy. I’m a terrible multitasker to begin with and there’s just too much on my plate. But I’ll live. And I’d do well to remind myself the problems I have are largely the good kind. I will overcome and I will not lose sight of those truly struggling under the yolk of real strife. I will get beyond my struggles of the first world.
That about covers it for this rant. Thanks for listening.
Memorial Day has come and gone and that means peony season is upon me. I have a total of four peonies scattered about my yard, unfortunately only two are set to bloom this year—not quite sure what happened (or didn’t happen) to the other two. Alas, they are set to open and they are seasonal favorites of mine; and while I’m bummed my purple peony won’t be in bloom this year, I still set my lens on this pink beauty just after I watered the lawn yesterday. Rich golden sunlight washed over the blossom and water droplets, just begging for some photo love. Having had limited time with my camera these past few weeks I was happy to oblige.
I grew up on Bob Ross. Streams. Mountains. Happy little trees. And while I never could paint, I’m fortunate to have found the medium of photography to capture our world in my own way.
Under impressive cumulus clouds and an afternoon of time to kill, Jonathan Carr and I ventured out to Ballanger Creek Tick Habitat Enhancement Site. Seriously, Jon brushed off four of them. He was also wearing flip-flops on a nature trail. So, you know.
Upon recommendation of my buddy and kick-ass photographer, Vincent Damiano, I acquired and applied gaffer tape to my viewfinder and the small gaps of space about my ND filter mount. It worked. Previously I have struggled with excessive grainy noise around the perimeter of my ND filter shots. I suspected minions of light leaks were at play. My hunch was well-founded as I am pleased to report the gaffer tape did its thing.
Yesterday I had helping hands (thanks, Jennifer Carr!). I was able to take some chances.
While heading over to Sunset Point for The Daily Sundown™ my hope was that the tide would be low enough to expose the bay sand on the lagoon side of the jetty rock (the right of the jetty in the shot above). #nope. The tide was already working its way back in. Temps were mild so I rolled up my jeans, hopped over the jetty rock, and made my way into the water where I had hoped said sand would be. The bay water was notably warm; summer’s coming, you guys.
At first I was shooting handheld since I was water bound and there was no place for my tripod. Handheld is all well and good except it does not afford the tack sharp stability of a tripod. Nor does it allow me to bracket exposures as I most always do when shooting landscapes. Time to turn that on its head.
About ten minutes in I turned to Jen, handed over my camera for safe keeping while she passed over the tripod in return. I took the device, splayed its legs wide, and began to sink it in the sand under about three inches of water. Once I was able to get a stable, level hold I reclaimed my camera from Jen and locked it into place. I let the sun get fully below the horizon and that’s when I went to town on my bracketing.
In post processing I went with a darkened silhouette of the jetty instead of its much more illuminated brother. I’m all about mood and this version just seemed to have it. The tradeoff: the bright green moss is far less prominent in this rendition—only some faint hints of green brush the outer rocks. To its credit, this darker treatment really brings out the color festooned upon the calm waters.
I know. I’m going nuts with the wisteria photos. This one should be it. For this season anyway.
I’ve come to appreciate my wisteria. It’s seasonal bloom makes the extensive maintenance of trimming (re: hacking) and shaping worth it. If you’ve never encountered a wisteria just know that left unattended its creepers will reach out and take over just about anything. You can work this aggressive expansion to your favor if you plan a setup accordingly, as seen here. With a little forethought it’s certainly all worthwhile. In the interest of full disclosure my wisteria is not set up accordingly. I’ve always been better at giving advice than taking advice.
As for the picture, I’m drawn to the diffuse processing; reducing the clarity lends an ethereal feel to the finish product. As I look about the photograph my whole world slows down. I better appreciate the little things that while small simply hide in plain sight.
This photograph is a holdover from this past Sunday and represents a bit of a departure for me. It started as a standard landscape orientation macro shot that I wound up aggressively cropping and flipping to a portrait orientation. This is the first time I’ve ever done the latter and one of the very few times I’ve done the former (aside from going to a 16:9 for some landscape shots). But for me, homing in on this single flowering wisteria bud, as it readied to unfold, and eliminating the extraneous negative space was the right decision here. Perhaps I’ll look to explore more with cropping in the future.