SoFoBoMo Dreams—or Nightmares

(Click on the thumbnail to view larger image)

Hard as I try to stay focused on cleaning the house (our realtor comes Tuesday morning and she is a tough grader), my mind keeps drifting to thoughts of photo books. Of course, I pretty much need a theme I can shoot in our new home in Bear Valley. By April 1, the date the SoFoBoMo season opens, we expect to be moving, or at least spending a great deal of time at our new place. Choosing a theme that tied me to my current area would be awkward, to say the least. I have tried to come up with a theme that capitalizes on the current chaos in my life, but so far, nada. More than once, I have “settled” on a theme, then picked at it a couple of days, and discovered it doesn’t hold up for me.

Yesterday, as I cleaned and listened to rock music from of the “British Invasion” on FM, my mind wandered as usual to the photobook, and I hit on another idea. (Must have been The Stones or maybe it was The Animals. Hmm. One of those themes might work in Bear Valley. No, not really.) Now, let’s see if this idea lasts more than two or three days. I’ll give it a few days before saying it out loud. In the meantime, I have been spending every second I can excuse from work reading the blogs of other participants. Everyone is incredibly generous with information and research. I am rapidly learning that the best part of this entire project is being a tiny, tiny piece of this great group-adventure. While I am nearly paralyzed with fear about this thing, I know I am going to learn so much that it will be worth the scare.

Several bloggers are posting useful information about the SoFoBoMo challenge. I have already mentioned Paul Butzi (The Instigator) and Doug Stockdale, who generously shares his thoughts about his own journey. In the last couple of days, Colin Jago has posted a list of all the participants with links and John Seltzer has created a new blog dedicated to SoFoBoMo, complete with a blogroll including all who have accepted the challenge. A great big "thank you" to all the guys who contribute so much. Of course, now any hopes I may have harbored about slinking along the edges of this, blessedly unnoticed, have gone up in smoke. John's new site is titled, "Tell The World". Now, it's official. If I make a fool of myself, the whole world will know.

A Bird in the Bush

(Click on the thumbnail to view larger image)

Yesterday afternoon, I took a short break from packing to enjoy the clouds and grabbed the G7, on the way. As I headed back inside, the movement of this bird caught my eye and I snapped. I didn't get a second try. A cyan filter seemed appropriate for this one.

Moving Down the Highway

(Click on the thumbnail to view larger image)

Once again, I ran across this shot in the Colorado folder and couldn't seem to move away from it. At first, I thought the pickup waiting at the intersection was distracting and I had to remove it from this beautiful view. That appeared to be a daunting and frustrating task, but mostly I just couldn't get motivated to start the job. Ultimately, I couldn't bring myself to clone out the vehicle. It's not just that the object adds scale. The more I looked at the image, the more I realized that the pickup is a vital part of the original story that caught my attention. To begin with, this was a grab shot—taken on the road through the windshield (you can relax—my husband was driving), and I had never been fully certain why I was compelled to trip the shutter while moving down the highway. Revisiting that moment yesterday, I began to realize why I couldn't get it out of my mind. The moment really speaks to me about what we saw over and over throughout our road trip: The stamp of mankind is all around us and, to avoid it completely , one would have to strap on the serious hiking gear and trek deep into the wilderness. Still, in spite of that constant intrusion, what my eye repeatedly frames is an image that resembles the one above: an image that has as it's subject matter approximately one-third man and two-thirds God. There was a time when with each landscape shot, I felt compelled to eliminate every telephone wire along with any other trace of man's intrusion on this beautiful planet. I know this is a common pattern with anyone who enjoys shooting landscapes. Lately, I am coming to peace with those intrusions on the pristine nature around me. Rather than being frustrated by them, I have begun to feel that, in some instances, the man-made marks provide instructive contrast. For me, they are so mundane they serve to emphasize the grandeur of my natural surroundings. Moreover, the marks are so dwarfed by the earth and sky, they actually enhance my appreciation for the stunning glory of our planet. The image speaks to me, so I wanted to share it with others.

I have added a black and white (along with sepia tones) gallery to the website. I hope you will drop by to see a couple of shots from the Colorado folder with a different look.

(Click on the thumbnail to view the larger image)