Additions

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Where the heck have I been? You know what I have been up to and you are not at all surprised that I am working at preparing for this show as though Heaven and Earth depended upon it. I figure if I am going to do it, I may as well go all out.

Meanwhile, the rest of life has not stood still. The Husband's quest for answers regarding the gray gelding's back has yielded little results. The man can't be faulted for not trying. Near the end of his imagination, resources, and patience, he got a phone call a couple of days ago that added a bit more chaos to our lives.

A fellow farrier called, while we were on the road, and said he had a lead for Jim on a great prospect of a horse. To make a long story short, the fellow above arrived at our place Saturday afternoon. Lancer and Night were terribly excited about the stranger on their property. The animal was touching their things and eating their carrots! What an insult. But, they were deeply curious. Naturally, the gelding's arrival had to be documented.

There will be more information about our new addition in the weeks to come and I will probably steal a few minutes here and there for some more photos. His registered name is Ground Zero. It seems he was born on September 11, five years ago. The name is appropriate, but neither of us can handle the sound of it—too many unpleasant memories. So far, the young gelding is simply "The Black". We didn't think Walter Farley would mind.  

Blue Horse and Other Dreams

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These days, I am not only dreaming about blue horses, but all the art show deadlines on my calendar.  A framed print of the blue horse above sold in October and will be part of the next show on the horizon.

At the end of this month, I will be part of the Bear Valley Springs Cultural Arts Spring Show. Of course, any sane person would simply have filled in the entry form with names of pieces currently hanging on the walls in our house and that would have completed my preparation. However, that sane part would describe someone else. Certainly not me. Instead of taking the easy path, I am working on something new for this show that has raised a whole bucket-load of questions and new challenges. I won't get into details until I know that it either has worked or turned into a flop. I am sane enough to have provided myself with a backup in case this experiment fails. You can bet that I will eventually let you know how the experiment goes.

Each artist is limited to five pieces and for this show I have decided to go with all equine prints. With the publishing of this post, you will have seen all the images to be used for the show. When I get closer to the show, I will publish a link to the five pieces and let you see my portion of the big annual show and social event here in Bear Valley Springs.

You can get more background on the horse above, how this piece evolved, and how it is displayed at Anita Jesse.

Another iPad Cover for the Art Show

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Tomorrow is the first day of our Art Show. I have sorely missed the web conversation going on without me and apologize for not even finding time to respond to some posts here. Naturally, I have been buzzing around finishing all the last minute jobs, so I will be ready for tomorrow morning—rested, and prepared for two long days of fun.

Today's photo is another from Highway 58, taken along the road to Bakersfield and featuring one of those oak trees that are such a dominating theme in my photography.

The December Art Show prompted the purchase of additional gear. When I bought the iPad I ordered a Smart Cover and have been quite satisfied with it. Then, I began doing these small art shows and using my tablet outside the house as a portable portfolio. The Smart Cover just seems a bit flimsy for that use.

I decided to try something a little heftier for those occasions. I chose a Bear Motion leather cover and, so far, I am quite happy with my decision. It feels good in the hand. The texture of the leather makes me feel a little more secure about handling the iPad with a number of people moving about in my vicinity.

Furthermore, this stand appears to be more stable. Since I place the tablet on a table during the show and run a slide show, I will breathe more easily now. People who are drawn to my display often linger to watch the slide show and frequently someone requests to see one of the pictures again. A couple of people have come close to bumping the screen when gesturing and this cover will, I think, minimize the potential for the tablet taking a fall. I have read that the iPad is amazingly resilient, but would rather not test its ability to survive a tumble off a table onto a tile floor.

At this early stage and with no test "in battle", I would recommend Bear Motion's cover. Good price, prompt shipping, fits perfectly, pleasant to handle. I bought mine through Amazon.

Overdue Answers on Art Show Adventures

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A while back, Ken asked which pieces of work sold in the recent art shows and here I am finally getting around to the answer. Ken has probably forgotten why he cared to ask, but he is going to get an answer—just not all in one post.

The piece above pre-sold the second show. (I had a couple of prints displayed at the venue as a preview of the show.) Printed on metallic paper, that background was a shimmering gold and made for a piece that was eye-catching. During the first show, I sold two pieces and I could have sworn that I had already posted one of them, "Blue Horse Dreaming"; but, I was dead wrong. The third piece is very new. I will post both of those over the next few days.

About the same time Ken asked his question, PJ asked if I planned to write a bit more about my experience with art shows. Frankly, I hadn't planned to since my experience is extremely limited. But, I have no pride. I will reveal how little I know. I have not pursued juried shows, nor have I submitted to prestigious galleries. Mostly because I am a hard-core realist and recognize that my work doesn't exactly fall in line with what is hot these days. (And maybe because I am chicken.) My work  embodies the opposite of edgy and I have visited enough of the galleries in Los Angeles to see that my work does not come close to fitting in any of those venues. Although they might be the logical market for me, the type of outdoor art shows often done in parks would be far too rigorous an undertaking for me. The galleries in the nearest town are really co-ops. The artists pay for their space along with a commission to the gallery owners.

Both my partner and I felt that the gallery/co-ops weren't our cup of tea. My problem is that the bottom line costs pretty much go through the roof with that arrangement. Most of all, I know myself well enough to know that the predictability of First Friday every month would become routine for me and wear thin. Being in the same place month after month would cease to be fun and stimulating for me. Yes, I am undisciplined in some matters; but, at least,I have learned to face my quirks and work with them.

Although we weren't interested in pursuing the other local opportunities,  neither did the once-a-year Cultural Arts Spring Art Show satisfy our appetites. Ultimately, we decided to make our own opportunities. I am okay with having sold three pieces in three days of shows. My prices are reasonable (I think), but I definitely don't sell myself short. I figure my costs—minus labor, unfortunately, then multiply for a mark-up. I love sharing my work and want it to be accessible; but I am not going to pay people to take my work home with them.

As I had already mentioned, our operation is unsophisticated and not a high profit venture. Hmm. Sounds like me. I have never been in a high-profit business and unsophisticated certainly fits me, as well as the area we live in. In another location, I might do things differently. Who knows? So far, our venture has turned out well. Our "What's-next situation?" suits me. At least for now.

What Qualifies As New Work?

I don't plan to make this the official new format for the blog—going sans photo, but my limitations create some restrictions and I will settle for this again today.

Last week, I made fun of my "90% new work" rule and after some comments on that rule I thought I should clarify and ask the opinion of others as to what qualifies as new work.

Common sense and self-preservation told me to simply show mostly pieces that exist in present inventory of framed prints and enjoy the experience of our venture. Over time, I have amassed a decent collection and I could easily have had enough pieces for such a small show as this. Need I reference previous examples of ignoring common sense in my plans of action?

Therefore, after a brief period of struggling to talk sense to myself, I surrendered and admitted that I was going to spend a small chunk of money on new framing kits as well as dig into the work of prepping new pieces. My definition of new work, this time around, meant work that may have been displayed on my blog, but pieces that had never been given the final tweaks. Web ready, yes. But, not print-ready. From past experience, I knew better than to assume that a piece that had played well on the web was ready to be printed and framed for presentation. Sure enough, there were cases where I got some unpleasant surprises and spent quite a bit of time coaxing out the file that was up to the rigors of print.

By the time I finished the job, I had six framed pieces that were new to my framed-prints collection. I had planned on hanging eight pieces which would fill my small portion of our limited display area. Right off you can see that I didn't meet my 90% goal. I got close, but three pieces that I had my heart set on eluded me. (Perhaps I should be grateful. After all, we have another show in December.)

More to come on another day. Meanwhile, does your definition of new (for a show) come closer to the SoFoBoMo rules—meaning photographs taken in the period immediately before a show? Does it exclude work previously shared in any form? Maybe I am out there in some alternative universe making stuff up as I go along. Wouldn't be the first time.

Between Shows

I am still here—still alive—although I am tempted to add, barely. And , that could apply to both statements. 

I regret having been completely absent from the blogging world for so long. Most of all, it isn't fun to admit that I managed to become totally overwhelmed by the preparations for this first new art show venture. Oh, I had not yet mentioned that there would be more than one, had I? Yes, long before I was ready for the first show I had opened my big mouth and booked another one for us.  The first was this past weekend and no. 2 comes up this Saturday. But, we have a short break. Show number 3 doesn't come up until December 10 and 11.

Unfortunately for my health and peace of mind, I suffered a severe attack of Compulsive Creative Syndrome. I had to put up at least 90% new work. Oh, did I write that rule for myself? Hmmm. I suppose I did. Maybe for the December show I can let up on that mostly new pieces rule. You think? You're right. Probably not.

There were four of us participating in this first show, and we had a marvelous weekend with fine turnouts both days. The owner of the winery seemed quite happy with the event and was happy to book us for December. Then, we take a break until next year and see what sort of trouble we can get ourselves into during 2012.

Just as it has been for any of these small shows that I have ever participated in, a number of lovely people attended, and I met more people in two days than I had met in the previous six months. Remember, my theme song is "Don't Get Around Much Anymore."

I sold two of the larger new pieces and have a special order for a Christmas gift. Not a bad weekend at all, in my little world. Thanks to two different chairs that were dragged along and lots of Advil, I managed to walk out each evening all in one piece and even got a full night's sleep, last night. Hey, things are looking good. I will be in touch more in the next few weeks, now that we have one under our belts and I have some fun stories to share about doing a small art show in between a very small mountain town and a mostly-sleepy, mostly-retirement community.

Art Conspiracies

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I have had something on the back burner for a few weeks and, just to be certain I have pounded all the life from this old metaphor, it has started to boil. It is time to drop a few hints. Why bother with a few hints, you ask? Why even bring it up if I can't tell the whole story? Obviously, you haven't been reading my blog very long. Otherwise, you surely know me better than to expect hardcore reasoning on matters of the heart. And this is a matter of the heart.

As for why only hints, this venture is a partnership. This isn't just my story to tell and many details are unsettled, so I need to wait until I can "spill the beans". I am only good at keeping other people's secrets. Any secret you shared with me might as well be stored at Fort Knox. I carry around secrets that are decades old. I have held onto some secrets until I forgot I ever knew the information in the first place. On the other hand, if it involves me, I am a veritable blabbermouth. If I don't drop some hints, the pressure will build in my poor little brain and I can't handle the extra stress.

Now you know why, here is the what. For the last few weeks, I have been conspiring with my friend C to take some control over showing our work. C is a painter whose work I like very much and C is a delight. It is a great combo. On Saturday, we took the plunge. We pitched our idea to the owner and manager of a local winery. When I returned and walked in our back door, The Husband asked, "How did it go?"  My response was, "It couldn't have gone any better unless Chuck (the owner) had written us a check purchasing all the art in advance."

I don't know much—which is helpful to a blabbermouth, but I know we are investigating the viability of scheduling this for October 1. (Yikes, that's close.) The manager will investigate possible conflicts with local events as well as events that might complement ours. This I know for certain: I suddenly have to switch gears. Big chunks of my time must be devoted to printing, matting and framing. There will be publicity to organize and a million (well, almost) decisions to make. Work not yet finished will have to be shelved for the moment. That won't be easy.

The best part of this, in my mind, is that we have taken action. Whatever happens from this point forward is a bonus.  We fretted over so few opportunities to show that didn't involve membership fees and restrictive contracts, or waiting for the once-a-year Bear Valley Springs show. And, we took matters into our own hands. It feels good to have taken the step. It is going to be an interesting few weeks.

Creative Minds and Crash Landings

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Do you frequently come crashing to earth after completing a challenge? That is typical for me. During the last hours—even days in some cases—before crossing the finish line, I am frequently running on fumes and lose sight of how much real energy I can afford to expend. After the excitement is over, I discover that I was dipping into the reserves. It took time to store those reserves, I am reminded. Deplete them and you need time to restore.

That sums up fairly well where I am now. I have big plans for this next project that is already begun, plenty of enthusiasm, some work done, and ideas galore; but, the engine isn't turning over.  I know that the problem is exacerbated by the spectre of The Husband's surgery that is just days away. I try my best to put those family concerns in that folder for all the things that I can't do anything about.  You know. We try to sort out what we can fix, what we can improve on, what we can prepare for, and mark clearly the things that are out of our control.

For years, I have been on a mission to get better at sorting things into those neat little piles. But, sometimes it's like trying to sort feathers, outside, on a windy day. Things keep ending up in the wrong darned pile.

Getting back to creative matters—oops, that was a strong gust of wind—I am quite taken with the metallic paper prints from Bay Photo Lab. Seeing those prints up at the show Saturday and hearing the responses caused me to look at some things differently. Now, as part of my next project, I find myself inspired to tinker with some old favorites and rework them in a way to (I hope) maximize the appeal of that paper. The sad news is that I finished re-working one piece Monday, and that is as far as I've gotten with revisions for metallic paper. Running on two cylinders for a few days. No point in fighting it.

The image above is the piece in the show that was printed on metal. Since I got a code for a discount on metal prints, I suppose I will replace the sold one and take advantage of the offer.

Reflections on the BVS Annual Art Show

(The "bigger, better" version, in this case, has a haloing and banding that stinks and wasn't on the print. If you can overlook that, you will have an idea of what the print looked like)

Saturday's forecast had called for a high of 69 degrees—balmy by our recent standards, and no rain in sight. That was promising. It was looking as if we would have a great day for a party and an art show. Sure enough the sun come came out bright and clear—not one of those gray mornings that have been the norm lately.

The Husband got ahead of me and placed all five of my pieces in the back of the car and we took off before 8:30 AM to deliver everything to the country club. Before we could get everything out of the back of the car, there was a friendly greeter out to meet us and offering to carry anything inside for us. Our greeter was a friendly face from two years ago, a fellow photographer who had been extremely kind and encouraging to me. Another good sign for the occasion. 

Inside, all was abuzz with activity. There were stations for checking in where workers attached official labels to the bottoms of the art, then "hangers" who quickly and efficiently grabbed up the work to hang it on available wall space. Everything appeared to be humming along smoothly.

My work aroused a bit of curiosity at the check-in area. That's not surprising, since there are far more painters involved in the event than photographers, my process as well as mediums evoked a few questions. The pieces all looked sort of like photographs, but not exactly, and that brought up a number of inquiries. The metal, canvas, and metallic paper brought up questions about "how I did it". The piece that garnered the most questions, not surprisingly, was the one on metal. I was told that one of the men working the show commented, "If that one doesn't sell, I'll eat my hat." Goodness knows, I didn't want the man eating a hat! I needed a sale.

After a brief visit with a few people we recognized and some embarrassingly lame attempts on my part to answer questions, we left the working staff to finish their job and headed back home. There was a nice break for a rest, lunch, and then time to get back for the reception. I didn't want to miss a moment of the party.

We got there about five minutes after the doors were to officially open, but there was already quite a crowd munching on hors d'oeuvres and sipping wine. I collected my name tag. It announced "Artist" in bold letters under my name and made me feel a bit self-conscious. Maybe "Contributor" would have been easier to handle, I thought to myself. But there wasn't time for reflection. The big lobby was already noisy, there was a constant hum of chatter and people moving about. As time went on, I heard more than once that some of the missing husbands were "in the bar, having a 'real' drink." Perhaps the getting dressed up had been a bit too much for a few of the guys. The mood was upbeat and the energy level was high. 

The walls of the club lobby were covered with art work. I know I will have to go back one day this week to really take it all in. Yesterday there was simply too much noise and too many people to really see more than a handful of pieces.

Wherever I was I could see that there were usually two to six people looking at my little portion of the east wall. That east wall placement proved to be a major asset. Early on, I was at the back of the hall encouraging a bright-eyed young woman who enthusiastically confided that she was participating in her very first show ever. Later, making my way back toward the entrance, I stopped off to admire the drawings of a new friend. While she complained that she didn't have any really new work for this show, I marveled at her skill in depicting the life in her subjects' eyes.

As I had begun my return from the back of the hall, I had noticed a middle-aged blond woman accompanied by an older woman looking at my work. By the time I left my friend, still unconvinced that her gift is in capturing eyes, I registered that those two women were still in that same spot and became curious about their interest in my pieces. 

It turned out the younger woman had fallen for the largest print in my group—the photo of our chestnut, Lancer (the picture above, but without that nasty banding you will see in the larger jpeg). They asked questions about creative process that I didn't have good answers for. I felt more stupid than ever. How do I know why I added the golden glow to the dust at the horse's feet in that one image? In spite of my lame answers, the daughter was convinced that she had to have the 20x26 framed piece. The mother, however, was certain that her daughter didn't have room. I could feel a potential sale slipping away.

While I caught a glimpse now and then of "the one that got away", M (the artist who knows how to draw eyes) began selling my piece on metal. I was amazed. I couldn't have hired a better advocate. She was collaring friends and acquaintances and dragging them to vantage points to take in the effect of late afternoon light bouncing off the metal. Before I knew what hit me, M had sold the piece and the red dot denoting "sold" went up on the label for that piece. Whew! She was a force to be reckoned with. I want to take her with me every time I try to sell anything!

By the time that sale was concluded, I was feeling pretty good about the show—except for my back and feet, that is. Then, I got a new burst of energy. The woman with the blond braid down her back who had been admiring my large print was back, standing in her place once again, square in front of the piece, no one else around her, and glued to that image.  Maybe..., I thought, just maybe, and made a beeline for her. I wanted to be nearby in case she had any questions, and I guess my timing was good. She turned to me as soon as I neared and said, "I'm going to buy your horse!" Well, that was fine by me.

I left the club exhausted, hungry, and elated. But the best part was still to come. My back had barely survived the test and when home, I took time out only for a greeting for Galen then headed for my closet to change into pj's. I knew I was done for the day. Yes, I would be sitting upright for a while, but I would be totally useless the rest of the evening. When I emerged from the closet, comfy, and ready for relaxation, something out of place caught my eye. While I was in my exhausted stupor, The Husband had snagged my "Artist" label off my sweater and stuck it at eye level on the mirror above my sink. See why I think he's so special? I couldn't have asked for anything sweeter to wrap up the day. 

Ready for the Show, Finally

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On Friday, the final print was framed and ready to deliver for the show next Saturday. Since that piece is large and heavy (for me), the Husband pitched in and helped. Each time I finish even a medium-sized piece, I swear I will never do another. Why not make 11x14 my top size and save myself the headache? Why even go as large as 16x20? Not only are the larger pieces unwieldy to handle, but where do all those dust specks come from?! The piece just finished is 20x26 and every square inch was a dust magnet. I sometimes think, with a larger frames, that I will use an entire can of compressed air before turning the piece over to see a clean mat under the glass.

And speaking of sizes, I have become enamored of 6x9 prints in 11x14 frames. The 11x14 frame is the practical side of me. It's a standard, after all, and I am only slowly transitioning into some experimenting. One step at a time. The 6x9 prints certainly are not out there on some sort of frontier, but I had avoided that size in an effort to save money, frankly. Unfortunately, custom framing is an investment, for me, and I would rather be able to hang more prints by saving on readily available mats. Now, however, I have decided to indulge my affinity for the 6x9 print. After all, the more mats I purchase the better the discount. (See how easy rationalization can be?)

I never reported on my first order of framing kits from Frame Destination. They are outstanding. Every mat is flawless. The frames are beautifully built and they include excellent hardware. I could not be more pleased. I am expecting a package Tuesday and, yesterday, I placed yet another order. It appears that as long as I don't run out of money, I will be getting packages from the Dallas, Texas area.

I am working on some new pieces, but everything is still in flux. Eventually, I will share some of the work here, but for now I will post this photo from a brief outing last Sunday. We took one of those Sunday family drives down into Caliente Creek Canyon. The repeated rain storms along with the snow melt feeds a handful of waterfalls  dumping into the creek, and that trickle of water we have seen in the past is transformed. At end of winter the previously harmless stream threatened homes and tore up quite lot of road. I wished that I could have gotten out and walked more during this trip, but concentrated on being grateful for the opportunity to see the creek roaring along. By mid-summer it will, once again, be no more than a trickle.

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....

Spring Brings The Local Art Show

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Lately, it has been easy to forget that spring is around the corner. Days of rain, followed by days of snow that melts only to be replaced by more snow, then followed by rain. Gray has been a dominant color with the exceptional sunny days serving as welcome reminders that this won't really last forever.

I haven't had time to fret over the gloom, as I have been immersed in preparations for the Bear Valley Springs annual art show. Since I missed the event last year, I have only participated in this show once and that time I entered pieces that were conventionally matted and framed. It was basic gallery style frames, standard mats, and your typical color prints for me. This time around, I am trying new things.

For instance, I am experimenting with prints on metallic paper (finally, I might add—the paper has been around for ages now). I also am ordering one piece printed on metal. Of course, like a child, I will be waiting for the delivery truck tomorrow when I get to see my sample pack from Bay Photo. They offer so many finishes in the metal that I needed to see samples before placing my order. While I am catching up with the rest of the photography world, I will test out one print on canvas. I decided why not have fun with this show and check out what everyone else has been playing with for several years now. When this show is over, I will not only have had the fun of participating, but I will have learned a great deal.

Beyond the new print materials, I am also placing my first order for frames and mats from Frame Destination in Dallas, Texas. I have read good reviews about the company for years and thought it was time I found out for myself how good they are.  A few weeks ago, I placed a small order with them and was impressed with the way they handled it. It happened that one item in my order was temporarily out of stock. They called me to inform me of the delay and I was already impressed that a real person called to let me know. Then, the item arrived, having been shipped Fed Ex 2-day, although I had not paid for the expedited shipping. Their handling of the situation gave me an idea why reviewers have given them raves for their customer service. I felt the service warranted further investigation.

You will hear some of those last minute howls of "woe is me" as the deadline nears for hanging pieces, but you know I will be having fun, as well. I remember the opening day reception as a marvelous party where I met a number of delightful people. Why should 2011 be any less a day of celebration?

Art Show Mode

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I am still in Art Show mode and, because of the images I am working on, I can only see horses, as you can tell by the picture above. Because the equine part of the show in May got the most attention, I have added only new work that capitalizes on that interest. The new work for the June 5th show consists mostly of stylized pieces such as the one here, and most of them involved considerable Photoshop work. Once again, I enjoy that part of the job, so it hasn’t been drudgery. Still, I have my days when I think that I am tired of the monitor screen, don’t want to touch the mouse, and just want to take new photographs. As you might guess, the start of my SoFoBoMo project is still at least a week away and I am getting a little antsy about that. Finally, I am in the midst of framing for the show with ninety percent of the printing done, but I won’t wrap this up for a few more days.

When I am doing this much processing, it seems I slip almost completely into a non-verbal mode. Anyone who visits this blog frequently knows that most of the time I can happily chatter on almost endlessly about almost nothing. But, when I am working on certain types of pictures, I tend to sink down into another kind of being and there aren’t many words there. That’s where I have spent most of the last week.

Not surprisingly, preparation for this show has been a learning experience. The learning is in the form of a reminder. Some of the new pieces were worked on months ago (years in some cases), but were never printed; and, while the files looked fine to me on the screen, test prints proved that they were not quite ready for prime time, after all. It is amazing, isn’t it, how great the distance between “almost good enough” to “yes, that’s what I was looking for”? Those last few tweaks go slowly for me, partly because I often need to walk away from an image for a while and come back to it with fresh eyes.

And that’s not the half of it. When I am working on a new piece, I usually have no clue where I am headed. I just know that there is the shadow of something in the photograph and I won’t be content until I have coaxed that out. And, wouldn’t it be fun if it were as simple as sprinkling some Photoshop fairy dust on the image and waiting for the new image to magically emerge? Still, the ability to transform a photograph so profoundly (even with hours of patient starting, backing up, and starting again) to ultimately produce something that touches people is almost magical to me.

I am quite aware that this talk about so much work in the digital darkroom brings up a sensitive topic for many photographers. If you are purist and don’t think photographs should be tampered with, you would run—not walk away from much of what I produce. I happen to swing back and forth between the two schools of thought. I have periods where I am only interested in photographs that required minimum processing. On the other hand, I go through phases of taking photographs to the point that many viewers aren’t certain what the origins of the image might be. Never having functioned as a photographer prior to digital, I have no allegiance to the purist school. I live there when it pleases me; when I get hungry for something else, I switch back to the fairy dust.