Greg Molyneux Photography

Category: Blog

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

  • In My Own Time

    In My Own Time

    14mm wide angle sunset photograph made at Stafford Forge Wildlife Management Area. Intensely vibrant pastel hues color an array of clouds pulled across the sky reflecting atop the undulating pond water.
    In My Own Time — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    Improved is my mood. It pleases me to write this. A combination of self imposed interventions coupled with some good old fashion luck reinforced the levies to keep the deluge of depression at bay. First to thank my friends and family—my people—for hanging in there and supporting me. The treasured and unbreakable bonds forged in love and tempered in the flames of hardship keep me strong. Iron does sharpen iron, and lost I would be without them. I love you.

    Reestablishing mindfulness and meditation practices, daily and with intent, served to ground me. Tethering me back to my breath—the single most fundamental essence of life. This is creating a setting of ease and space to cope. I use an app called Headspace to guide this practice, and I recommend trying out anything to help guide you and keep you on track. There’s no right or wrong way to mediate. No beginning or end to meditation. There is only what you take with you. There is only practice.

    Disabling my social media accounts for about three weeks proved an enormous boon. While I am back on Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram, it is only the latter that has its app on my iPhone. Were I able to share photos from my laptop, I’d have no app at all. I strongly recommend a break to anyone considering it. It’s refreshing and wholesome to lose the anxious connection to the impersonal toxicity of the online world. Now that I am back, I have better boundaries, and going sans app reinforces said boundaries.

    Audiobooks came to the rescue, too. Starting in an unexpected way. Surely You’re Joking, Mr. Feynman! followed up with What Do You Care What Other People Think? surprised me in their countless life lessons weaved into the narrative subtext. This theme of course being ancillary in their intention to let the world into the mind of one of the 20th century’s most gifted physicists. Richard Feynman was far more than a Noble laureate, though. In fact, there was little typical about him. With intention cultivated himself as a curious, skeptical, and inquisitive observer of life parsed through a scientific lens with no space in his brain for fakers. This proved refreshing. I piggybacked this with Jay Shetty’s Think Like A Monk. An instructive tool for bringing purpose, calm, balance, ease, stillness, and peace into our lives. I don’t typically go in for self help books, but this was a joyous journey, and one which offers numerous tangible strategies to help you find your way.

    Therapy remains the key piece constant through all this. A safe place to connect with a professional who brings objectivity and experience to your situation. It provides a place to reflect, open up, share, and discover. As self-awareness grows, strategies take shape to help recognize triggers, execute mitigation tactics against them, thereby minimizing the frequency, intensity, and duration of future episodes. If you have been considering therapy but feel shame or weakness, I do encourage you to take the step. You have the strength. Reaching out for help is hard, but it is always a huge leap worth taking. Complicated and difficult is our world. Our hearts and minds more so. Connecting with people to better understand ourselves, our purpose, and our meaning in this life is a great place to start and essential to wellness.

    Thanks for reading, and thank you for your support in this.

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  • Autumn Intonation

    Autumn Intonation

    35mm photo of a quick fire hydrangea bathed in rich golden light. The autumn pinks, yellows, and oranges of the flowering bush explode in a panoply of autumn color backdropped by smooth bokeh.
    Autumn Intonation — 35mm | f/1.4 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/1250

    Autumn colors burn with such righteous intensity it’s as if we can breathe it in and hear its glow serenade at the core of our heart. The last golden ember of a great fire poised for transcendence. As a symphony to all senses it plays true to a cultivated soul. It’s a paradox, of course, nature revealing the esoteric mystery of life’s fated dance with death while veiled in a golden cloak of unspeakable beauty. The death of life colored in celebration for its promised rebirth. Autumn intones this ministry to the world. A miraculous offering made for those with the keen sense to receive.

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  • Plebs Will Out

    Plebs Will Out

    14mm sunset photo made in early November along the Cedar Run Dock Road salt marsh. Yellow, pink, and purple pastels color up gossamer clouds stretched across the sky all reflected in water.
    Plebs Will Out — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    After making this photograph Friday afternoon at the usual Cedar Run Dock Road spot I got to thinking. The exponential increase in not only photographs, but their quality this past decade has been extraordinary. On account of the technological powerhouses forever affixed to our palms and pockets billions of people the world over have ever improving picture making machines at the ready. The ubiquity of smartphones coupled with the increase in data and sensor power has turned every man, woman, and child into capable content creators. This has gifted us with growing volumes of splendid photographs the world over. A brand of photography that gets better and more beautiful with time. The improvement is not only at the hands of technology, either. Through the years as our phone cameras get better, it’s the near constant practice of making photographs everyday which has made us all better photographers. Anywhere you go you’ll find someone, often many someones, making a photo.

    This democratization of technology has taken photography from a cloistered craft of the few into a pastime of the many. The equalization of this skill makes us all richer. Smartphones have become the great leveler, bringing high quality picture making devices to so many. This has allowed experimentation and practice by people in places who otherwise would have had no chance to learn the trade. As a photographer this excites me. It helps me to be a better photographer. It pushes us all. It’s a wonder to see regular people turning out inspiring still and videos day in and day out. The plebs will out, and I am here for it.

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  • I Was Once

    I Was Once

    moon rise over Parkertown Cove at Parkertown Docks at blue hour. This was October 2020's second full moon making it a blue moon.
    I Was Once — 100mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | EXP 3.2 sec

    I was once new
    Unseen and strong the becoming

    I was once waxing
    Energetically growing keen to know

    I was once full
    Brightly shining radiant life

    And now I wane
    Aged and worn fated to winter

    Coda

    Upon the last minute recommendation of Jonathan Carr we made our way to a new location to make photographs: Parkertown Docks. This splendid location tucked away along Parker Cove offers 360 degree views featuring salt marsh, bay, bay beach, Atlantic City, and some old pilings. Tons of opportunity here, and no doubt a new go-to spot to watch thunderstorms roll in. Crazy to think this gem has been hiding in plain sight unbeknownst to me in my 27 years living in the area. It’s always a win to shed a bit more ignorance in the face of new discovery.

    It wasn’t intentional (sunset was the goal) but we hung around through blue hour for the full moon rise. It so happened to be the second full moon of October, making this a blue hour blue moon rise.

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  • Distortion

    Distortion

    14mm wide angle photo made after sunset overlooking Cedar Run Dock Road salt marsh. Deep blues fill a sky alight with sweeping pastel clouds reflected in a marsh pool.
    Distortion — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    I am not what I think I am, and I am not what you think I am. I am what I think you think I am.
    —Charles Horton Cooley

    I came upon this quote yesterday in Jay Shetty’s audiobook, Think Like A Monk, and damn that is incisive insight. Is it not true we are but projections of projections? A skewed facsimile as we endeavor to manifest ourselves as we perceive others see us. I make this statement without judgement, more as a recognition of observable truth. In all our efforts to make ourselves, we build an edifice as an assumed image of what we think we are to others. It’s a trick, an artifice, a distortion.

    The problems here are manifold. One, it assumes we know what others think of us in fact. Two, it gives too much power to the opinions and assumptions of others. Three, it assumes others know us comprehensively enough to distill our full character. Four, and most important, it removes our own agency. It strips us from discovering ourselves in sacrifice to serving an unknowable image we think others hold of us.

    None of this makes us bad people, lacking and wanting of autonomy and originality. No, it’s more positive than that. It’s a friendly canary in the coal mine singing out for us to recognize this distortion in better service of our true selves. Be not buried in the soot and morass of assumed thought. Do not be the looking glass projected onto another looking glass when together we can stand apart in front of our own mirrors.

    Antisocial indefinite

    I’ve deactivated my accounts on the Big Three social media platforms. I said so long to Twitter, Instagram, and Facebook. This is not a stance in self-righteousness per se, more a timeout from too much toxic information. I doubt you need me to tell you about the inundation of anxiety and filth that has seeped into every post and every comment thread. This coupled with the induced compulsion to keep up, look cool, and fit in, was too much. I needed to get away. It’s something I wanted to do for many years, and I am glad I finally pulled the trigger. Not knowing what is going on in the outside world has been glorious.

    There are some drawbacks to my decision, of course. Chief among them will be some lost connections I’ve made over the past decade—connections I cherish dearly. Another casualty is the dissemination of my photography. Far fewer eyes will see my work now. This is a blow, yet I feel the tradeoff necessary. I have this website, little traveled as it is, as my go to spot for creative self expression. I plan to continue posting photographs and writings here. I appreciate each and every one of you who visits my site. It is meaningful support to me.

    Round number alert

    Speaking of this website, here marks post number 500! Crazy to think I’ve made 500 entries since launching this site upon the world back in January 2014. I never thought I would have gone this far. So here’s to 500 more. Thank you all who’ve journeyed with me along the way.

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  • Exposed

    Exposed

    14mm wide angle photo made at sunset over the Cedar Run Dock Road salt marsh. Multilayered clouds fill the sky, backlit by pastel colored clouds as the autumn marsh loses its green color.
    Exposed — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    “I feel thin, sort of stretched, like butter scraped over too much bread.”

    I first encountered this line watching Peter Jackson’s masterful film adaption of The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring on the big screen in 2001. Having come to the books much later I learned this was a direct lift of Tolkien’s own words. Only a fool possessed with unconquerable ego would not leverage the master as much as possible. The line resonated with me from the jump. Here a world weary Bilbo Baggins, faced with all his wisdom augmented through unnatural age, laments the end to his mentor and friend Gandalf.

    It touches on a tough reality—the falseness of appearances. In spite of his age, his 111th birthday fast approaching, Bilbo had not aged in over half a century. Of course the yet unknown ring of power proved at play. Still even in the face of apparent youth Bilbo’s inner self never stopped its natural aging process. Behind the mirror he knew himself wan and tired.

    I was a young man when I first came to this line in the theater. A first semester college sophomore, only 19 years old. Still I already felt stretched thin. I was the inadequate amount of butter failing to cover all that mediocre manufactured bread. I got the reference. It landed. It hit home.

    At first blush it’s easy to take this single moment in a grand story as a short line about the fears of aging. About the confrontation with our own mortality. Of course that is part of it, you would not be wrong. But there’s a deeper subtext speaking of fulfillment, or more precisely, the lack thereof. Bilbo, in spite of all of his adventures and all of his years remains unfilled. Both burdened and inspired by his magic ring he still wants more.

    This, too, resonates with me. I’ve demonstrated some modicum of skill with photography, flat horizon sunset photography in particular. And yet it is not enough. It’s no longer getting it done for me. It all feels like a wash, rinse, repeat exercise in both futility and repetition. Like eating the same dry piece of toast each morning with the same familiar disdain of a routine unwanted. You do it because you feel the pull of obligation. You do it because you feel you have to do it. As if somehow the world won’t turn if you don’t. As though it matters to someone This is nonsense, of course, yet we all know this feeling in some corner of our mind. It’s little more than ego over inflating our importance. Though it’s a discomfort that may precipitate change.

    Except this is not fiction, and I am without a magic ring. Though I still have some measure of control. We all have a choice to break habits and make new paths. Even to disappear. For example, after a decade I deactivated my Twitter account yesterday. I have 29 days to go back on this decision, but a big part of me wants to stick with it. I am hopeful I can make this step with Facebook and Instagram next. Maintaining a public persona is hard, and it injects added stress into an already stressful world. It leaves me feeling exposed and lacking, like somehow there’s even less butter in the dish with the same damn piece of toast waiting on the plate.

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  • Walled Off

    Walled Off

    35mm sepia photograph of an old wooden structure marked by leading lines, knotted wood, and a rusted iron locking loop.
    Walled Off — 35mm | f/1.4 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/160

    And now for something completely different. I made my way to Batsto Village on Sunday. Autumn peak is still a ways out, but the short jaunt made for a solid photowalk regardless. Temperatures were warm with mostly masked park goers aplenty. It was one of those dress for all seasons kind of days. Toasty in the sun, cool in the shade. As my friends played about with their tiny humans, I meandered listlessly about the old iron works village. Some noticeable changes since my photowalk in 2014, including the loss of some large maple trees. Such is the passage of time.

    I spent ten minutes with my camera making photos of a building I once described as a weird barn-esque pseudo covered bridge type building sided in evenly spaced, repetitive wood slats. The leading lines speak to me. There is an old, weathered door with a rusted iron loop which once made part of a locking mechanism. Above is the photograph, treated in sepia to lend visual to the structure’s age. I’m not certain what to call this kind of photography? Street? Architectural? Nonsense? I suspect this is one of those photos I enjoy but doesn’t land well with the masses. But that’s OK!

    Music and the world lost an icon and virtuoso today. Rest easy, Edward Lodewijk Van Halen. The stardust of the riff master has returned to the universe.

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  • I Knew You When

    I Knew You When

    14mm wide angle HDR photo of Cedar Run Dock Road salt marsh right at sunset. Pink tones kiss a low level cloud deck to color up the sky.
    I Knew You When — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures

    I knew you when I would smile
    I knew you when the world turned true
    And people could accept one another.

    I knew you when I would see
    I knew you when honor shone through
    And people could trust one another.

    I knew you when I would feel
    I knew you when I reached with soft words to touch you
    And people could share with one another.

    I knew you when I would hope
    I knew you when an open heart taught what to do
    And people could love one another.

    I knew you when I knew me.

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  • Autumn We Dance Again

    Autumn We Dance Again

    14mm wide angle landscape photo made at blue hour. Clear evening blue skies with a subtle pastel horizon reflect over the still water of Stafford Forge Wildlife Management Area.
    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.

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