It is still a bit soon to call the slump busted proper, but I am pleased my photography is getting back untracked. The past six weeks or so has me getting back to a more regular groove of shooting, blogging, and sharing my work. Aided big time by a high quality spring bloom, flowers aplenty have given me ample ready made subjects to shoot.
My front yard peonies are a favorite subject, and I was not going to miss out on their time in the sun this year. Captured about two weeks ago this photograph has been sitting in the hopper waiting for a proper unveiling. I am drawn to the simplicity of this photograph. 35mm lens, wide open aperture at f/1.4, a single peony blossom, low key lighting, and lots of white space above and around the peony. Propped up by the out of focus hint of a stem, the flower holds a singular focus a shade below frame center. It’s marked further with sharp focus holding fast to two petals closest to the viewer. It offers a ledge for your attention span to hang upon. From here the bulk of the photograph falls into nothingness, precisely the way I like it. It’s open season on flowers and photography once again, and I am damn sure happy to be back in business.
Despite my deepest wishes the flowers you see here—lily of the valley—are not late 19th Londoners bustling about Trafalgar Square. Nor are they doffed bowlers hung about a proper mahogany coat rack. No, they are something more than all that—beautiful flowers crafted by nature. Tiny reminders to look small to better see the world; to focus in to see out.
Through the years these little flower hats have caught my eye but never enough to grab the gear and make a proper photograph. That changed earlier this month. It was later in the day and the sky was overcast setting a pall over the evening. Color, light, visibility were all subtly muted adding a proper aura of melancholy. With my macro lens fixed I made it down to ground level to make frames of what I would later learn are lily of the valley flowers. Thanks Instagram friends.
I am satisfied proper with how this photograph turned out. Even before post processing I knew there was a win here. The first frame straight out of camera was money. With eight frames in all it was old number one that best hit the resonant tone of selective focus, bokeh, and light coupled with sound composition. From there it was off to Lightroom finishing school. A smidge of cross processing and contrast tweaks to finalize our array of English gents in hats. In the meantime shall we safety dance?
Waiting on the Winds of Change — 35mm | f/1.4 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/8000
To weed, or not to weed, that is the question. Whether ’tis nobler in the lawn to suffer the blades and clippers of outrageous trimming…
OK, let’s bring it back. I am no Shakespeare (duh) and this sure is no Hamlet. But I would like to wax about on dandelions, perspective, and how it all changes. As a child, like many children I suspect, I partook of the cult of dandelion. I’d run about my grandparent’s lawn collecting the golden flower tops with aplomb. On my best day I may have even slapped a small bouquet together for eager delivery to Mom. On my worst day I’d roam the lawn with friends, pluck a dandelion or 12, and intone, “momma had a baby and its head popped off.” Yeah, the indignations of youth.
Of greater mystery, however, were dandelions in their gray puff ball evolution. Like the one I photographed above. These airy beauties offered the greatest fuel for play and imagination—and lacked an evil jingle. Countless hours spent holding up the cloud like seed heads into the wind watching the air carry them away. Little men holding umbrella parachutes they’d travel in unpredictable air currents toward parts unknown. The charms were boundless. When the air was still it was mouth powered air travel filling in for the wind’s absence. This was the first lesson in the power of breath.
Fast forward to adulthood and like all things once wondrous the cynical world soul crushed joy into avarice. In this case the greed for a perfect lawn. There is no place for dandelions in a perfect lawn, you see. And thus my childhood dandelion friends found bottomed out status as weeds. Weeds! Unwanted growing things to excise with fascist impunity. This world view held sway for years, until I learned a thing or two. On the one hand what is a perfect lawn and who needs it anyway? And on the other hand, our pollinator bee friends are fond of the dandelion. And bees need our help. And so, in my world, dandelions have regained proper status in the land of growing things. Oh, and they photograph and taste great, too.
Breathe. Slow yourself. Inhale. Find yourself. Take in the soul stirring scent of lilac. Exhale. Calm yourself. Let the burdens of the day fall from your lips. The lilac boon is a perfumed pathway to rest and rejuvenation. It’s an essence of spring and its annual promise of renewal. The sweet bouquet infuses our air and our soul with the essence of all this world can be. Let it be a balm to your weariness and a fragrance forging our fortitude. So let the lilac’s joy dance upon the air, sweeten our souls, and open our hearts. And as ever, breathe.
I’m testing out a different style of entry here. Instead of writing to some kind of set theme, I will roll with random thoughts. Plenty of notable happenings, with some long anticipated closures are worth mentioning here.
Before all that, tonight’s post—err, this morning’s as it’s already after midnight—would not have happened without some much needed prodding. Within a 20 minute span I bumped into two long time colleagues, and all around wonderful humans, who both noted my dip in photo output. It was not an admonishment so much as a hey, we miss seeing your work. Both flattered and on the spot in the best kind of way, it stuck a chord of inspiration. Knowing I had a batch of flower photos sitting on my memory card, I committed to getting a photograph posted tonight. And while it is tomorrow, I still count this as meeting my deliverable as I have not yet gone to bed.
While I knew I had some solid photos thanks to a promising wisteria blossom, I had not known I had something so to my liking. I was immediately struck by the moody, painted quality to the macro photograph. This low key, soft focus treatise on cross processing transports us into a fantasy struggle set to enchantment fighting back the melancholy invading the marches. I am lost in this photograph, and I selfishly want to see it large and on canvas.
Notable closure happening number one: The some eleven-odd year Marvel Universe journey we’ve been on culminated with Avengers: Endgame. I would be exaggerating if I claimed myself a canon expert of all things MCU. But as a casual to enthused fan it was a splendid end to some 22 films. While it ranks right behind Infinity War in my book, the movie still rocked it. What gives its predecessor the nod for me was greater depth to Thanos, and that the stakes always felt higher in Infinity War. Nevertheless, Endgame was a heck of a victory lap for a team deserved of the praise.
Notable closure happening number two:River Ave. Blues calls it quits! I’m a big-time Yankees fan all about the #YankeesOnly lifestyle. At the center of that world, orbiting only the Yankees themselves, is River Ave. Blues. The most prodigious and prolific sports blog on the internet. Run by fans but at an absolute professional level, the quantity and quality of output since I became a reader back in 2008 (maybe 2007?) is incomprehensible. That impassioned fans with inspiration and dedication could flesh out the best analysis imaginable, on a daily basis, for a marquee global franchise is an exemplar to us all. Mike and Co. deserve (an understatement) this rest, though the rest of us fans will be poorer for it. What an incredible 12 years. Fortunately Mike has set up at Patreon account at RAB Thoughts to give us a little taste of what we will miss.
Notable closure happening number three:Game of Thrones is about to end. 2010 where have you gone? That’s right, within weeks of each other the MCU and Thrones cease to be. Two of the biggest and most followed arcs in entertainment wrap it up together. Couple this with the fact that the Skywalker Star Wars arc ends this December and 2019 is hosting a year of film making closures unlike any other. It is the definition of bittersweet that we have these long, involved, and emotional stories sing their song in full measure, though never again will hear their music the same way again.
I rather enjoyed this open format, free form posting. I will be doing it again.
Whether you are hanging your heart on the line. Or drying out ye old heart machine on the laundry line of love. You are putting your heart out there. Plugging away in a world tugging on the old heartstrings. Whatever witty claim the written word could pose, bleeding hearts pluck a fancy and leave a calm repose. A unique flower, perfect heart in shape. Coupled with a tear, emotion is its fate.
It’s fascinating how this remarkable shade loving flower mirrors the presentation of heart and love in art. Or is this another situation where art imitates life? Speaking of imitation, it is a lifelong love of The Legend of Zelda that elevates me to next level bleeding heart appreciation. They make a stunning replica of the heart containers so essential to Link’s questing success. Furthering the link, the tear is a match for the Sheikah Eye—a distinct mark of an esoteric clan orbiting the heart center of the saga.
The heart works. May it pump, flow, oxygenate, and enrich our lives for time unbound. The heart sparks. May it beat strong in clear, steady time setting rhythm to keep our lives apace. The heart thunders. May it power the intense moments where we need it most. A thundering thump drumming quickening cues reminding all we yet live. The heart rests. In the quiet moments of sleep, thought, meditation, and reflection it resets the world. The heart bleeds. May it work yet through the sad times, a solemn lament forlorn for those lost. The heart loves. Our epicenter of joy, kindness, fulfillment, and love. It fills our bodies and fulfills our world with the unbowed energy of peace and love for all time. The destiny of heart is love.
Near on five years later I have made a companion photograph to tango with I’d love to see you in that dress. I am not breaking any ground in stating flowers evoke a feminine grace. Here, as it was five years past, that grace manifests in the likeness of a lithe dancer transfixing us with her craft. Her pirouette moves and shifts the dress setting our hearts to flutter. With the calendar’s turn to spring I look forward to capturing more of nature’s dancers shining light upon our lives.
Of course a shout-out to the incomparable Elton John for the lyrically inspired title.
Magnolia Season — 100mm | f/3.5 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/400
For a long while my Jane Magnolia has suffered through meager blooms. About five years back, powered by eagerness and inexperience, I pruned my magnolia a little too much. I did it in spring instead of fall, too. Regardless, it has seen lackluster blooms ever since. Ten or so blossoms at that was about it. Sure, they still flaunted their power purples, but the showing was sparse at best. This year it turned a corner. Dozens of purple wonders splayed out in fine style.
In this photograph I present here a dreamy rendition of a Jane Magnolia blossom. Marked by soft lines and blurred curves the viewer falls easy into the whimsy. Evoking a mood of modesty and beauty. The vertical orientation lengthens the composition and settles the eye on the sharp leading edge of the front petal. Horizontally situated toward the lower third of the frame, it is the only part of the photograph captured in focus. The bokeh pulls back the frame from there, blending the accompanying petals through lessening degrees of focus.
I love making this kind of macro. The mix of a pastel colors, soft flowing lines, minimal focus and maximal bokeh allows the eye to work over the photograph. From here the viewer fills in the gaps. They hear their own stories; see their own enchantment. Flora evokes emotions and memories unique to us all. This here is a canvas set for your imagination to work upon. Magnolia season welcomes all.
