Greg Molyneux Photography

Tag: black-eyed susan

  • 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.

  • 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.