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.
The Winter Narrative — 100mm | f/3.5 | ISO 400 | EXP 1/640
The calendar flips March and 2019 has supplied scarcity for New Jersey snow lovers. Several nickel and dime events, sure, but not the mother lode that leaves us ditching rulers for yardsticks. Jim Cantore has monster measurements to make out west this year. This is the ebb and flow nature of winter in the Mid-Atlantic. Boom seasons sprinkled in typical years of bust.
Yet recency bias dominates the narrative. Social media is rife with it doesn’t snow like it used to claims, and while I share the frustration it is not true. Consistent, big snow is not the norm. Take the dry years that carried us from the 80s through the early 2000s where the foot plus storms could not add up enough fingers to make a full hand. You had 1993, 1996, and 2003. I remember a big event in 1987 or 88—the first primetime snow storm I remember—when I was a kid in East Brunswick, but I am not sure that cracked a foot. After that, however, the boom time set in. Dispersed between down years (not unlike this one) you had 2007, multiple foot plus events in winter 2009-2010 and 2010-2011. 2012 and 2013 were a total roast fest but then more big time action came in 2014, 2015, 2017, and 2018; much of which documented by this photographer. New Jersey snow lovers have had it made. A regression to the mean is probable.
None of this is to say I am not bummed. I love snow; it can never snow enough. But considering our low latitude—the 40th parallel—that has us due west of Portugal, mind you, many variables must come together to produce big snow. This casual rant is a simple reminder to fellow NJ snow lovers to appreciate our big storms since we never know when we will bust out the yardsticks next.
Laid up for the weekend with back pain is suboptimal. Press conference Joe Girardi would shrug his shoulders incredulous and declare it’s not what you want. Whatever your flavor there is never a good time for back pain. And to my brothers and sisters mired in low back hell, I slouch in solidarity with thee. May your heating pad and icy hot be forever in your reach.
The good news to this story is that of this Sunday evening writing my condition has improved. Eager to product something of value I thought why not hit this neglected blog and publish a new photo on this website. The photograph is not new, per se, having made this shot in mid-September. True to form I have been slacking all year on getting photos out and into the world on any kind of schedule representing timeliness.
Yet here is a sweet little macro of what I only learned minutes ago is a silver-spotted skipper in its caterpillar phase. That is one stylish looking insect if you ask me. Rock the neon glory if you’ve got it. Before its metamorphosis stride I made some macros of it milling about an old coneflower. No doubt contemplating what comes next in life.
Presented with ample negative space this photograph has room to b-r-e-a-t-h-e. Loads of space and flat color bokeh teeing up all the wide ranging existential issues. So much room for the mind by way of the eye to sit and ruminate in a minimal motif stripped of stuff. Left hanging, we are as our little green friend: Stretched on the precipice of of existence in simultaneous reach to the Next Big Thing. As we cling to the familiar we hold battle with anxious apprehension when faced with undefined space. For those who recognize all possibility of the empty palette reach out to transform their lives.
The Majestic — 100mm | f/3.5 | ISO 400 | EXP 1/250
I’m having a pretty great Monday, you guys. I’m burning a welcomed vacation day sitting with my Mac at The Union Market & Gallery—a home away from home. Inches of rain fell this morning but now the south Jersey skies begin to clear. The soggy morning off soon turns to an afternoon of roller coasters and screams at Great Adventure. There will be much rejoicing.
Place matters and this is the first time I’ve typed out a blog post anywhere other than my home office. The change of p(l)ace is nice. Jazzy music firing in the background with pleasant patrons mingling, sipping, and eating. Better yet are three full walls packed floor to ceiling with local art from local artists. Inspiration and good coffee abound at The Union Market—as well as an inspired staff. My takeaway is that I am going to have to come here to process and post photos more often. With any luck this will reignite my photo making which has regrettably fallen of a cliff in 2018. But with four and a half months to go there is still time to salvage 2018.
A brief word about this photograph: Doesn’t this hostamacro remind you of a lion’s mane? It’s the trigger in my brain—a majestic mane unfurled in prideful triumph. The low key treatment adds an extra level of depth and gravitas to the image. Deep and serious—carrying home the intensity and majesty of the moment.
And now back to my not-so-regularly scheduled day off.
Flowered Sun | 100mm | f/3.5 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/320
Looking close and slow upon a flower is a practice in patience with which all should partake. Particularly true to heal closed hearts and open stagnant minds. It is both window to the soul and outlet to the universe and it unveils the underpinnings of nature’s truth.
Take this nascent echinacea blossom. Still early in its development, it will soon blossom into its wonderful purple array. Yet here, in this moment of transition, if we look close we see the vast universe mirrored atop a small flower. With my first glimpse this blossom has the look of a sun. Star powered energy pouring forth from a solar atom foundry in its energetic prime.
Or is it teasing us with the esoteric nature of spacetime? The pliable fabric Einstein predicts by way of his theory of General Relativity? The spiraling spires trigger my imagination. I look and I ruminate. I see space curving and folding in response to mass. I see the universe as it is—all atop a flower in transition.
Or do I look only but upon a flower? Should it be so than it would all be worth it for the beauty of the world sets forever before us.
There is regal majesty in the echinacea’s journey from bud to blossom. With the subtlety and finesse borne of fine stock she transforms with noble grace. Gentle petals work outward—a green coronet becoming the crown befitting her station. The purple coneflower corona hits its zenith only to unfurl to its full purple petal. Long and lithe this flower never loses the splendor of its most perfect roots.
Flowers are but a bright spot in an otherwise darkening world. Acrimony, callousness, cynicism, and flagrant distrust envelope our better judgement as a plague. As corrosive distrust and patent injustice unfolds so too do the flowers. Impartial and ignorant to our schemes and machinations, spreading beauty with their grace. Too bad it not up to them to stand in judgement of our folly.
So I made this spirea photograph on May 11, 2018, and here I am blogging it up on June 22. Six weeks later is been than forever weeks later, right? Right!?
Last spring I made a spirea photo which served as a source of pride. I even printed, matted, and signed a few for Makers Fest, and it looked wonderful on photo paper. With a stout bloom thanks to ample rain, I was keen to get back in there to see I could conjure this year.
In this photograph I am executing soft focus and bokeh. Allowing the frame to sit largely out of focus. A pronounced shallow depth of field brings a sliver of sharpness on two narrow planes moving diagonally from left to right across the frame. Falling off in either direction, the spirea blossoms and its lush leaves fade quickly from focus, drifting off to whimsy. This lends a fantasy quality to the image. I can imagine faeries tucking away a touch out of sight, using esoteric magic to float clear from focus. Their secret hides in the bokeh. Drifting out of range of prying eyes and surreptitious lenses.
