Upgrades

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Most photographers enjoy gear talk and there is quite a bit of chatter online about upgrades to cameras and gear. I got to thinking. If there were ever to be an upgrade on Anita (you know, the Anita Jesse Mark II, let's say), I  just hope auto focus will be included on the next model. This old model is clunky to operate, at best.

Clunky in what ways, you ask. Well, you would think that I would be focused on the upcoming Art Show, since the work has to be hung April 16. Yet, here I am, not even close to wrapping all the work for the show, and I have veered off into yet other projects. Yesterday, I should have been clearing the studio of some of the junk that has accumulated in that room during the last several months. It is obvious that work space has to be cleared for the mounting and framing yet to be done. Still, was I focused on the show? No, of course not. I had the brilliant idea to try a new tutorial "just for a minutes of distraction and a bit of relaxation."

Well, one thing led to another and there went the day.  Sure, I had a great time following one idea to the next, and then another. Heck, I enjoy the journey, even though I sometimes end up in a familiar place with only a slight new twist. The image above is one of those cases. At the same time, this is one of those pieces that I have worked on two or three different times and had never discovered where it wanted to go.

As always, it's the process that is exhilarating and satisfying. And, I won't kid you—I do enjoy the adrenalin high that comes with ideas popping. No doubt there is a downside for me. By the time I have worked until I'm bleary-eyed and there is no more adrenalin to pump, I am left worthless for about 48 hours. Only after I begin to recover can I fully enjoy the residual inspiration and sense of renewal.

Returning to the upgrade notion, maybe this Mark II version of Anita should have more power, as well. Longer-lasting batteries that don't wear out over the years, perhaps?  It wouldn't hurt to include more memory, definitely an improved sensor, and maybe....

Making Art as Therapy

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I'm not great at handling stress. My usual tactic is to wrap it tightly in a huge, hard knot, and drop it in the pit of my stomach. This is not a strategy that I recommend. Of course, I am also well practiced in the art of locking my shoulders somewhere up above my ears. There is another brilliant move, that I can't, in good conscience, advise for healthy living.

Because the stress level here rates pretty high on the Richter scale, I knew I had to find a way to divert some from the stomach area. Too late on the shoulder business. Originally, I had the bright idea that I would set aside all my creative work and all the crazy plans I normally have for yet another project and just deal with the business at hand. Well, that lasted about a day and a half. By then, I was exhausted from screaming silently and moping, had the shoulders locked, and was hard at work on the knot. I decided to reverse field.

Saturday, I dove into the files from that shoot last spring at my friend's horse farm.  For the moment, I have no perspective, but I think that I have found more images worth working on. These are the ones that either simply didn't register previously, or I had liked the potential but could not see a solution to the native problems at that time. After all, I had what seemed to be an embarrassment of riches after one quick pass. The client's package, all done up in a handsome archival box with acid free tissue, and tied with a beautiful wired ribbon, contained 47 prints. I didn't have to get past the first cut to please her.

Now, I am obsessed with possible overlooked "treasures", "could-bes" or "maybes" and free to spend all the time I need experimenting with heretofore unimagined solutions to nasty backgrounds. (Nasty backgrounds at SKF are part of the game. This is a functional farm, not a Kentucky show barn.) I cannot say that I worked in an organized and smart manner—this is therapy now. The final product isn't the focus. The doing is all that matters. While I am absorbed in an image it fills up the corners of my mind, crowding out everything else.

Throughout the day, I skipped wildly from one passion to the next with no order and no sense of a plan, but simply letting my heart take me from one impulse to the next. It was healthy and when (and if) I finish one of these pieces of therapy, I will share it here. Meanwhile, I felt like posting one of the pictures that had been ignored in the first cut. On that fine spring morning, this bay gelding called Louie, exulted in his power and the joy of freedom. It was a contagious celebration of life.