Stop the Clocks — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
The calendar claims today as 23 August 2020. I wish it would stop shouting Summer is OVER. What happened to time? March was about 93 days long, and each month since lasts about a week and a half—tops. Shattered is our perception of time. Easy days whiling about hours once spent on beaches and fields find replacements in anxiety, uncertainty, and fraying society. And it is with speed these insidious malfeasants, uninvited as they are, rob us of our time. Stealing our present and hoarding our future.
And yet we soldier on and endure. We bide our time, turn to our strengths and cultivate purpose to prepare for the renaissance. Time will call to order again. The arrow of time, never directionless, will reassert its dominion and the universe will unfold as it should. Build trust. Know faith. Foster humility. Learn to grow. Live to love. Make yourself.
Where Goings — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
Clouds rush by as years Quickened and blurred Life dashes Drift and drift and drift Have I a cloud? A spirit to float on present wind? Nay, I am a tether anchored in past, Chained Worry escapes to future where is hope, Abandoned Tears streak a far off gaze, Chastened Molded in past Weighed in present Promised in future
Reflection Point — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
I made this photograph with my tripod set upon the swim platform of my parents’ pontoon boat. They have kept their boat at Cedar Run Dock Road since September 2015, yet it was not until July 2020 I began shooting on location. A definite miss on my part. Their slip affords a wide view of Cedar Run creek making an ideal spot for mirrored reflections in still water.
This watery mirror has me thinking on my own life. It also affords an opportunity to share some quick reflections about myself with you. So here goes—I:
am 37 years old, and I live alone in Manahawkin, NJ
have lived in New Jersey my entire life
grew up in East Brunswick until uprooting to Manahawkin in summer 1993
earned a B.S. in Business Administration at The College of New Jersey
began making photographs in 2012
work for Johnson & Johnson
have a younger brother and sister still living and rocking in their 20s
Set — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
It is no secret I’m on team Winter Sunset™, but my goodness summer is bringing it this year. 2020 is, well, you know, but at least it’s allowed us big time heat and humidity, comets, and sky fires. Right! Right?Sunset at the salt marsh has delivered big time the past few months; and that’s with me missing several stellar sunsets and thunderstorms. Sunsets come in bunches and summer 2020 stands testament.
A little inside baseball: The color in this photograph is potent. Storm clouds breaking and intense coloration running up the high level mammatus clouds. An ‘X’ pattern sends deep pastel hues in four diagonal directions. Bisected latitudinally, deep green salt marsh cuts across.
When I make my landscapes I begin with seven bracketed exposures, each one stop apart. Running -3, -2, -1, 0, +1, +2, +3. After migrating to Lightroom I pop the seven brackets into Photomatix to merge them into one image file. Then bang, back into Lightroom. From there edits happen quick—delivering a photograph ready for showtime. Well this little buddy took some wrangling. There was so much color to reign in. After over an hour of jostling I’m satisfied; deep, intense, and smoldering.
Let’s keep this set rolling and catch another one tomorrow?
Peace and Pilings — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
Mark the horizon to find your way. Where two uprights cleave your life in thirds. Pastels flare to set the world anew afore darkness pulls it under. Serenity finds the seeker. Framed in peace and pilings. Draped in sheer joy. Reflecting hope and purpose. The mirrored worlds are yours.
Of Land — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
I stand upon thee shaken and uprooted. Winds of change erode the tenets of false truths exposing past misdeeds naked and afraid. Rampant theft and wanton expansion laid bare. Am I up for it? Do I possess real strength? Am I worthy of the challenge? A force for good? Will I cling to comfort, run for cover, and drape myself in the familiar linens of false prophets? Or will I see Others, hear their pain and adapt? Land is stable, of this we know. Yet slowly, near imperceptibly it shifts and moves without stopping, transforming the long view into something new. Do I have the courage to grow? Of Land, surely He would know.
I Remember — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
I remember sunset. I hold her grace. I see her green her beloved salt marsh, festooning her summered wetlands with pastel gossamer. Knowing, she looks up at herself and I see. Centered in all this color I remember. I remember a heart that beats to new rhythms still comforted in the familiar embrace of the melody. I remember sunset. I remember why I am here.
This Is Not Important — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
The moment is important. The movement is important. Tectonic forces shift as fault lines give way to the titanic pressure born of our nation’s original sin. Righteous activists are drawing back the iron curtain concealing a four century legacy of enslavement, oppression, colonization, segregation, and forced separation. A reckoning is upon as, and long may it reign until we address and redress the trauma, theft, and death wrought by racism is all its insidious forms.
Ignoring the moment is not ok. Denying the moment is not ok. Choosing to undermine the movement is active participation in amoral treachery and doles out tangible harm against our BIPOC brothers and sisters. This is the time to listen, to learn, to understand, and to empathize with our fellow citizens long denied access to the many freedoms we take for granted. This is not the time to insist in our righteousness and double-down on our own spoon fed, sugar-coated worldview with history written by the winners. I am a privileged cis-gendered heteronormative white man born in the United States in the late 20th century. I hit the birth lottery. Sure I have worked hard in life and struggled at times, but I’ve earned so many undeserved free passes because I look the part and fit a certain role. This is not ok, and to deny it is heretical.
So what am I going to do? I am going to sit. I am going to listen. I am going to learn. I am going to accept the painful stories our Black brothers and sisters are sharing across the internet. The issue of racism and the violence it engenders is being met head on, and I will not stand in the way of this challenge. In the United States we love to highlight all our past glory. I get it, I, too, am passionate about our founding mythology. It is long past overdue we spend equal time peeling back a hidden shame so unconscionable we built power structures to bury it. We ask of people to be introspective, to probe and understand our failings so we can address them, correct them, and grow. Why do we not apply this same logic to our national story? Denying America’s failings makes zero sense, and it only leaves us weaker and morally bereft. Worse yet, it leaves our most vulnerable and oppressed exposed and endangered—and in too many cases dead at the hands of those whom pledged to protect.
We are only as free as the most oppressed and disenfranchised among us. Freedom is a cudgel of oppression up until the moment it fully liberates and embraces us all. We must challenge ourselves every moment of every day to live up to our highest ideals. The self-evident truth that every person is created equal, that they are endowed by their creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. Can we finally make this a reality for all Americans? And in the event I was not clear: Black Lives Matter. Full stop. End of discussion.
Out of Exile — 14mm | f/8 | ISO 100 | 7 Bracketed Exposures
A weary traveller, chastened and humbled returning from isolation made his way out of exile to this sacred place of restoration and life. To the marsh he’d seen so many times before. The same marsh he’s photographed for more than eight years with dutiful care. To this holy marsh where centeredness and peace comes easy. It is at this place he bears witness to its cyclical grace of death and rebirth marked by its annual rise and fall. The comings and goings of its grasses, the arrival and departure of migratory sea birds, the summer flourish of bugs to feed the ecosystem, and all manner of life in between. It is the marsh of his youth that will god willing serve as the marsh of his golden years. It is the marsh to which he will always return when called out of exile.
