Greg Molyneux Photography

Tag: cross processing

  • The Majestic

    The Majestic

    100mm macro photograph of hosta flower in low key.
    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 hosta macro 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.

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  • Bright Spot

    Bright Spot

    White daisy blossoms photographed at 35mm in low key vertical orientation.
    Bright Spot — 35mm | f/1.4 | ISO 400 | EXP 1/30

    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.

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  • Light Play

    Light Play

    Japanese maple leaves photographed in golden hour light with shallow depth of field producing bokeh.
    Light Play — 35mm | f/1.4 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/400

    Soft gold lingers. Midas’ hand set gently upon wine dark leaves. A ruddy remnant of the enchanted wood. The familiar maple stands firm. A trusted friend with a gift for listening. Relieved and uplifted at once you sit beneath its boughs. Evening light touches down on tired shoulders, lending patience, love, and support. Through a connection that dives beyond words and conscience thought the maple hears. A knowing companion free from judgement and avarice. Another year older, another year stronger it stands ready to see you higher than ever before. Your friend grows strong beside you. Its sinew working into your bones grafting its fortitude within you.

    You have learnt much from this tree. A guiding hand of steady silence year upon year. An living monument to patience and strength. Shared with each storm and gale, lessons of flexibility and acceptance transfer. The tree knows how to weather the worst. How best to take it head on, branches open, free of tension and fear. Only when the driving winds have passed are you left with a stronger, healthier tree. Forged by nature, shaped and hardened for more. This is the teaching it passes on to you. It is when you gaze upon soft golden light suffusing its ruddy aura you remember.

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  • Jane Says

    Jane Says

    Single Jane Magnolia bud photographed in macro at 100mm focal length.
    Jane Says — 10mm | f/3.5 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/5003.5 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/500

    I bought my home from my parents in October 2009. Built in 1993, my parents put in much work to cultivate a lovely yard through the years. Cue up yard work montage footage full of old clothes and dated hairstyle. And yes, I bought the house I grew up in. Under my ownership I have made great work undoing their great work. A once proud yard has fallen into disrepair under my watch. Where once there was lush grass there is the lingering remains of fescue. Where plants and flowers once thrived there is the unkempt overgrowth of perennials. All flanked by an uncontrolled spread of weeds. A groundskeeper I am not.

    For whatever reason a shrub that had been for years on the brink, has returned to its former glory. A least in part. A Jane magnolia, photo above, has undergone something of a renaissance in my side yard. It has flowered up better than at any point in the last four years or so. With it injecting a most welcome infusion of purple to the yard. It’s a pleasing contrast to the yellow explosion of otherwise out of control forsythia marking the property’s edge. While the wheels have come off my lawn it’s nice to have some picturesque reminders of better days.

    This lyrically inspired title comes from Jane’s Addiction, “Jane Says,” of course.

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  • Sunday Alone

    Sunday Alone

    Shallow depth of field photo of autumn colors black-eyed susans.
    Sunday Alone — 35mm | f/1.4 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/640

    Yes this was published on a Monday, but yesterday when I was making what I’m ready to declare my best series of flower photographs in years was in fact a Sunday. I have it on good authority that not only is Sunday is a day that ends in ‘Y,’ it always precedes a Monday. Allegedly. But don’t take it from me and always check your sources.

    My title is an exercise in layers. At the surface is a shot out to Trey Ratcliff and the eponymous Lightroom preset, Sunday Alone. Next, and as already worked over in paragraph one, I made this photo on a Sunday. As it so happens on a Sunday I was feeling particularly alone. I assure you the pairing of chosen filter and said mood was one of pure coincidence. The last layer is not without a touch of irony—the Black-eyed Susans pictured here are hardly alone. This is a thriving bloom of eager and lively coneflowers packed together in close quarters. Since Saturday I’ve been in full swoon when I first noticed this rudbeckia variety aside my parents’ walkway. I see you Saturday, coming before Sunday like you’re all that. Alone on a Sunday as I may have been, these flowers are serving up a healthy dose of joy.

    I proclaimed at the outset that yesterday, a so-called “Sunday,” was my best flower photo shoot in years. With any luck you’ll feel the same as I am going to be posting at least three more photos—though more are likely. Most will be more compositions of Black-eyed Susans, but there will be at least one hosta macro in here.

    Shout out to Sassafras Hill Farm for coming through with the identification on the rudbeckia so praised here.

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  • Pinky Peony

    Pinky Peony

    Square format pink peony blossom photo with bokeh.
    Pink Peony — 35mm | f/1.4 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/1000

    I’m not one for literal titles yet here I am. Strange things, man, they happen. In their death throes now, my peonies had their proverbial moment in the sun in late May. Pink and glorious, oversized bulbous blossoms beautified my shrub bed with their bounty. Tissue paper petals bunched together in a gift package of pink, ready to welcome a newborn child. Hardly long for this world they bring a respite of joy to eager viewers keen to seek them out. Many people I know laude the coming of the peony, and I am happy to count myself among their rank.

    On another note, does anyone have a trick to keep these things from bending under their own weight? Not long after bloom the flower heads take on the oppressed posture of a people suffering under the yolk of a tyrant. It’s unbecoming of their beauty and power. My peonies could use some support, you guys. It is clear The Man (me) has got them down.

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  • I Look at the Floor and I See it Needs Sweeping

    I Look at the Floor and I See it Needs Sweeping

    Cross processed photo of an abandoned shack left to decay.
    I Look at the Floor and I See it Needs Sweeping — 35mm | f/2 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/40

    You’ll find no nature here. Only aged remains of a disued shack left to dereliction. What happens when we’re gone? When all else fades but the ruins of a life gone by? When the fire has gone out and time comes along to reclaim fashioned resources back to dust? Undefeated is time. The second law of thermodynamics tells us so—entropy mandates decay of any and all things found in a closed system over time. This is why a famously felled Humpty Dumpty was never put back together again. Ironically human progress shields us from this fact. Civilization throughout the ages has achieved greater and greater levels of order, enterprise, and design when in reality we build our great monuments of progress to cast baseless doubt on the truth—incremental and inevitable disorder and decline. The next dark age waits just around the corner. Just as a great castle fortress was built high atop the hill only to be blast asunder from some new armament built only to destroy. Always forward is the arrow of time. Always locked in the battle of life, death, progress, and decay.

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  • Before You Go

    Before You Go

    Golden hour photo of a Japanese Maple with autumn red leaves and smooth bokeh.
    Before You Go — 35mm | f/1.4 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/800

    After last night’s negative tilt trough supreme wrought a 30 degree temperature drop; rain, snow, and sleet; and gusts of winds the Anemoi would be proud of in the span of roughly three hours these leaves are now gone. But 24 hours ago they were still here, so hey, maybe almost does count? Such is the onslaught of winter. One minute you’re hanging around LBIF dropping off photos on a 66 degree day and the next minute you’re running for the coat closet. Weather mood swings be damned, I’m happy I got to see my first flakes of what I hope will be a good old fashion snow-down for the winter of 2016–2017. Big snow, people—big snow. Measured in feet. (Meters would be even better.) I’m what they refer to in nerdy weather circles as a cold weather snow weenie. I’ll own it.

    As for this photo it’s a bookend of sorts. Made one week ago it’s something of a mirrored close-out to I Saw Red which was made back in April when this very maple was in spring bloom. This tree of mine makes for a great subject as 1) it looks cool, and 2) it sits right outside my front door standing sentry at the House of Greg. This keeps things easy. Just load up the 35mm lens, set the aperture wide open, and step outside in my soft pants to squeeze off a few frames. It also gives me a chance to work on my vertical orientation game which I often ignore. Many a skilled New Jersey area landscape photographers do a great job exploiting the fall and documenting its seasonal change. As you’ll note by my lack of autumn type leafy photographs through the years you can surmise I have been measured and left wanting in this arena.

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  • Fire on the Horizon

    Fire on the Horizon

    Cross processed golden hour photo of clouds, marsh, and reflective water.
    Fire on the Horizon — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | EXP 1/60

    This photograph is raw. Hardly the polished HDR landscape propped up by a firm tripod and bracketed exposures I usually produce. Here things are basic and flawed. As intense golden hour light poured over the Cedar Run Dock Road marsh on Sunday I was having a ball walking around popping off single frame hand shot exposures. It’s liberating to break away from the stationary tripod life sometimes. Pacing the roadside back and forth my eyes settled upon a pool of water wedged between the road’s shoulder and the marsh itself. A few inches of fresh rain left plenty of water throughout the wetlands, and the reflection on the still puddle commanded my attention. From there the process was pretty low-tech—squat low and place the camera about two inches above the water level, roughly a foot away from the edge of the marsh grass and squeeze the shutter. I wanted to capture a blown out sun and lens flare through the grass while capturing clouds in the water’s reflection. I am pleased with the quick execution of an otherwise spontaneous plan.

    This lyrically inspired photo title goes to the excellent reggae band, Stick Figure. “Fire on the Horizon” is track one off their 2015 album, Set in Stone. Kudos to Ben Wurst for cluing me in to this band. Solid grooves, folks. Solid grooves.

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