My New, Shiny Toy

Yes, this new adventure of mine has completely taken over my life. I hadn't posted on Blogger for so long that I couldn't remember where to begin.

I still plan to get back to the real/virtual world of blogging. But, for now I am completely buried. Meantime, if you wonder about anything I am doing, this link will take you to the latest post at AnitaJesse.com. where I focus mostly on equine photography. But, I am branching out on that site. More to come on that.

 I hope you will follow me there and we will pick up the conversation about photography, creative processing, the learning process, along with life's funny ups and downs.

Little by ever so little, I am getting my ducks in a row at the gallery. I really leapt into the deep end of the pool—and you may remember that I can't swim! So much to learn, and such short days.

War Horse

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If you have heard of the multiple-Tony winning play, War Horse, you have probably been wondering why it has taken me so long to mention it. Naturally, I had long indulged in fantasies about whirlwind trips to New York to take in this production.  Many years ago, The Husband and I had the good fortune to see a staged version of the Tolstoy story, "Strider." it was beautifully staged and incredibly moving. It was  amazing to see Strider, the horse, so eloquently brought to life by a two-legged creature. It sounds as though it couldn't work, but believe me it did. I knew I would appreciate War Horse.

I wasn't completely surprised by the profound effectiveness of the illusion because of a previous theatre experience. Much earlier in my life, I had seen a Ballet Folklorico troupe out of Mexico City and included on the bill was a number titled "The Deer Dance." I rank that as one of my all time favorite theatre experiences. I never saw anything on stage in Los Angeles, New York, or London to top the emotional impact of the two dancers playing out the chase and ultimate demise of the deer along with the hunter's reverence for his prey.

The troupe performed in quite a large venue and when the dance ended, there was a brief moment of stunned silence, then a crowd of more than a thousand people leaped to their feet to bring down the rafters with thunderous applause that didn't want to come to an end. I lost track of the number of curtain calls. No one wanted the magic to end. The performance was wrenching, poetic, and has forever haunted my thoughts.

I have no doubts that War Horse, the stage production, would make for more wonderful memories. Of course, a cross country airplane trip now is about as realistic as climbing that peak in the Andes. But, wait! dum te dum! Steven Spielberg to the rescue!  A few weeks ago, I had read in one of the many horse magazines that come to our house that the film adaptation of the play is scheduled for release either Christmas or early next year. Theatre seats and I don't get along, so I will have to wait for a delayed gift from Mr. S. And, yes, the puppeteers from the play have been replaced by real horses, but the trailer already has my little horse-loving heart going pitty-pat.

If you haven't seen the trailer, check it out here.  I may not watch this film as many times as I have seen The Black Stallion—Caleb Deschanel's cinematography was inspired—but War Horse has made it to my must-see list.

By the way, the image here was included in the Bear Valley Springs Art Show last spring.

Abandoned

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Once again, I saw this scene played out on Saturday. Poor Lancer was the one left behind. When The Husband and Night leave on foot, the chestnut is agitated and thunders around the pasture, bugling and expressing what feels like a mixture of panic and rage. Neither of the horses handles being left behind with grace. But, eventually, the panic subsides, the futility of the rage dawns, and whoever is left behind returns to grazing.

But, trust me, they know what a trailer means. When one's buddy is drawn away in that white metal box, it is serious business. There is genuine doubt as to whether the departing animal will return. Not only do the panic and rage run their course sooner, but, for Lancer, in particular, the deep anxiety and despair set in. Saturday was typical. At first he ran full out around the pasture, a frantic hell-for-leather version of nervous pacing. When he returned to the gate he began the weaving (shifting weight from one front leg to the other) until he was exhausted, then with his gaze fastened on the road, he whinnied, not those soft whinnies you get as a greeting, or those short, impatient whinnies that say "where is my hay?", but great body-shaking whinnies, that come from somewhere deep in the gut.

Then he stationed himself at the pasture gate—the gate that Night had exited earlier—and watched. Watched, and listened for signs that his abandonment was not permanent.  Attempts to distract him were met with impatience. Carrots earned only mild interest.  He briefly interrupted his vigil a few times only to get a drink of water and grab a quick bite of his virtually untouched breakfast.  From 7:00 AM until 5:00 PM he maintained his vigil. Standing. Waiting.

My heart hurts for them when they go through this. While animals are blessed with so many skills superior to our own, they are not equipped to deal with these human-engineered separations. Having other horses a pasture away is not enough. They want their buddy nearby. It is partially a matter of instinct. Like most prey animals, horses feel safer with their herd. They also form attachments. Some recent studies have indicated that horses may recognize other horses with whom they were associated many years before. That isn't surprising when you consider how many dogs cover hundreds of miles to find their owners. Whatever science may be able to demonstrate, you could never convince horse owner that these animals don't form deep attachments.

Our horses pick at one another like a couple little boys. They fuss, kick, and nip, lay ears back, and threaten mayhem. At times, you would swear they are mortal enemies. But, when abandoned, each is distraught. I always wish I could explain and assure the animal left behind that the separation is temporary. But, there is no reasoning with an animal separated from what has become family. It is painful to watch.

When Night finally came through the gate, he and Lancer touched noses and had a little horse hug (heads thrown over necks) before they set about their usual horse business of rolling in the dirt, eating—and fussing at one another.

Nothing is Safe

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In case you were wondering, yes, I am using this new style of processing on some equine images. After all, I can't lavish all of that love exclusively on landscapes and stills of flowers. At one point I thought about joking that I might be in danger of attempting to apply this processing to anything not moving. Oops! Well, at least I can assure you that this horse wasn't moving when I applied the texture layers.

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.

Posey

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Yesterday was one of those days when I was in the mood to lazily lean back in my rocking chair in front of the fireplace and enjoy the rain from our comfy living room. You have the picture, right? A throw around my shoulders, Sheltie at my feet, a little reading, some music, maybe a little television, and some time spent just watching the rain fall.

Switch the music, something allegretto now, and wipe that last image. Instead, I was working on the large order for my friend and client down south. Having printed proofs a week or so ago, I have spent some time each day, for the last few days, making those final tiny tweaks to all the images. This is definitely not therapy for my back. Quite the contrary. But, it is a labor of love.

Since these are the images on my mind, I thought I would share a couple of them with you. The horse in both of these pictures is one of her stallions, Posey. As you can see by the second image, My friend loves a fanciful approach. While she is a big fan of more straightforward, representational pictures, she also gets pretty excited about a few that are made into something outside reality. Early on in my processing of the files from that shoot last April, I had been playing in Photoshop one day and had fiddled around with this textured background made from a photo taken at her place. Later, when she viewed her sideshow to make selections, I showed her both versions of this one—the "straight" one with the out-of-focus background (same background as the one above) and this version. Without a second's hesitation, she went for the more fanciful treatment. 

In a Photoshop Daze

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For the last several days, I have been a photo-processing fool. I have been steeped in Photoshop—working on files from recent shoots, the trip to Death Valley last spring, and a large order from my dear friend and client, L, at Silent Knight Farms. I see sliders and layer masks when I close my eyes.

The unexpected turns in my life that began in June, last year, put a major dent in my schedule, and I am about as far behind as a person can get. But, it's work that I enjoy. I love the experience of seeing a RAW file come to life on my screen. I enjoy the work so much that I need to pinch myself periodically as a reminder to get up and stretch my back.

The photo above is one of my favorites from SKF and the one on the left was taken in Death Valley. By the time I got home from each of those trips, I was already dreaming about returning as soon as possible. Silent Knight Farms is all about horses—gloriously beautiful animals turned out to do what they love to do: run like the wind. Death Valley is matchless—a truly awe-inspiring landscape. It is a joy to be at either place with a camera in hand. 

Unscheduled and Unpleasant

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Yesterday morning, The Husband took Night out for a ride. That meant that I would be treated to a Lancer extravaganza, so I grabbed the camera, armed with Big Bertha (the 70-200mm f/2.8L), and headed out to the pasture. The chestnut, often affectionately referred to as Banana Brain, did not disappoint. The shot above is one of my favorites from the session. Having finally shed out that ratty, moth-eaten, end-of-winter coat, he is sleek again—back to his rich, burnished chestnut, and he gets enough exercise these days to have regained muscle tone. I thoroughly enjoyed the shoot, then later The Husband and I repeated some of our ooh’s and ahh’s regarding his return to his handsome equine self.

In the evening, we headed out for a hike and didn’t get home until twilight. The Husband went out to the pasture to put the horses in their barn and was surprised to see that Lancer didn’t meet him at the gate. He soon discovered that the poor guy was injured and did not want to move. Although I was not there, I can well imagine the horrible thoughts that were racing through The Husband’s mind as he examined the leg and that hoof to determine where the damage was and the level of severity. Most people know that horses don’t always survive serious leg injuries. (If you are curious as to why, it is because their digestive system is directly tied to their ability to move. No movement- no food digestion. One leg out of operation means throwing excessive weight on other feet and they develop problems. A horse can’t survive lying down.)

A terrific veterinarian that The Husband knows from endurance rides came for a flashlight and lantern check-up and confirmed the diagnosis. In one of those roughhouse episodes, Night had landed a kick on Lancer’s front leg (you can see where the hoof shaved off the hair and the swollen tissue makes it plain why he does not want to use those muscles.) Since the gelding can put his full weight on the leg, the doctor felt confident that it is not broken. The poor guy was alert last night and eating. He was also keenly interested in the carrots offered to him. I helped The Husband grate some carrots into a mixture including grain and molasses to mask the bitter taste of the bute (phenylbutazone) to dull the pain and reduce the inflammation. While Lancer would not tolerate an ice pack on the swollen leg, he did not resist cold water treatment.

This morning he is still on his feet, but not moving very much. While he is a bit depressed, he eagerly lapped up his bute-laced treat. He will have several days of recovery. Meanwhile, we are in for a bit of anxious watching and waiting.

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.

Shooting With Handicaps

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I have been doing my best to squeeze in some shooting sessions along with the prep work for the next show. Some of my sessions are spent out in the pasture with one or both of the horses. Since Fadwah’s Lancer recently turned 17, I thought it was appropriate to post this shot of him taken a few days ago.

On these occasions, I am often shooting in undesirable conditions—and that’s by design. To begin with, I often shoot at odd times of day rather than choosing optimum light. I also work without a wrangler, and that means I have to go out there resolved to be patient and make the best of whatever I see. A wrangler would be able to move the horse or horses to the end of the pasture where I have the best possible background. Moreover, the wrangler would be equipped with a some type of prop used to get the animals’ attention, or get their “ears up”. Furthermore, if I am out there with both horses (and without a wrangler), I have to pay close attention that I don’t get underfoot. You really don’t want one of these beasts stepping on your toes, believe me. Horses are amazingly sure-footed. Ask any competitive rider, and that goes for any of the equine sports. But, and it’s a big but, horses don’t count stepping on a human foot as hazardous, so sometimes a foot is stepped on. It smarts. Particularly when they are “horsing around”, I have to fend for myself with no one to stand between me and them to wave arms and send them safely by me. I work with extra caution.

None of this is meant to imply that either of the horses would purposely harm me. Most horses won’t hurt a human on purpose, unless it’s in self-defense. (Of course, in the case of an abused horse, the horse may always be in defensive mode.) The potential for harm with horses such as ours is all about nasty accidents that can happen. These guys are big, strong, and sometimes play rough. I keep my distance when they are excited. People who are strong and agile can take a great deal more chances than I. I have to work within my limitations.

Besides these conditions, I am still lugging the 70-200mm f/2.8 around.
Still, all in all, this setup works wonderfully for me. If I can get a shot or two that I like when working under these less than desirable conditions it only prepares me to deliver better photos when conditions are ideal.

Of course, all this raises the question, Why go to all this fuss? I suppose it’s like any other creative endeavor. You do what you have to do. Over and over we hear the advice to “shoot what you love”. So, there you go. For me, making pictures of horses that please me, and move others besides, is a major reason for owning a camera.

Hanging Out With the Guys

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For a couple of evenings this past week, I spent some time out in the pasture hanging out with Lancer and Night. Friday, I darned near got frost bite it was so cold, but I have a several motivations.

Not only do I just enjoy watching the horses from a closer point, I certainly hope to get some shots that I like. My major motivation is getting back to a point where I am more comfortable shooting action. For many months now, I have been shooting landscapes and a little macro with very little action. I had gotten to the point of feeling totally out of shape for the demands of fast action shooting. The shots of the horses that I have posted recently were shot from safely outside the pasture, because I was still hobbling about on my abused ankle. I have finally reached the point where I feel relatively comfortable wandering about in the field—ground squirrel holes and all. The footing isn’t the very best, but, so far, so good.

One of the reasons that I need practice is that my best lens for shooting horses is far and away the 70-200 f2.8L, but the lens has two major drawbacks. 1. I foolishly saved money (this was done a couple of years ago) and didn’t get the IS version. 2. The weight. I call this lens Big Bertha. In the past, I used this lens only with a monopod. While I was never satisfied with that arrangement, I didn't feel confident without the security of the monopod. I put up with it, even though it is a definite hindrance. Most equine photographers handle that lens handheld for action, and I am slowly working my way up to some consistency with it. Of course shooting handheld will mean accepting some major disappointments with shots that would have been terrific, if only they were sharp. On the other hand, it means getting some shots that definitely would never be possible while lugging around a tripod and would most likely be missed with a monopod. I am going to go for the spontaneity and flexibility. I will have to live with the near misses.

My time with Lancer and Night is relaxing. Mostly they just eat their way along—not wildly entertaining; but I enjoy watching them do almost anything. Both of these evenings, however, the guys have put on a little show for me, and I thought I would share a couple of my practice shots. These are the antithesis of the glamour pictures that I will do more of as the weather warms—shots showing the horses “stood up” nicely with coats clean and shiny, eyes wiped clean, chin-hair trimmed sleek, hooves polished. Here, they are just being horses—and happy horses with room to play.

By the way, it may look as if Lancer (the chestnut) is standing still in the second shot, but he had just been crammed into the fence by Night, while they charged around the pasture. Night was playing the aggressor the second evening and was crowding Lancer, just for fun. They had a good romp, and I was treated to grand entertainment along with plenty of practice shooting fast action.

Quiet Time in a Busy Week

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I had no intention of being away so long, but nothing about the week was planned.

The trip to LA developed a wrinkle—it ended up we only moved the vehicle to another shop for additional repairs. Sounds like a sad case, doesn't it? Since it's a 1978 International Scout, I suppose it makes sense that it needs repairs now and then. Still, that means one more trip down off the mountain and across the desert to collect it.

Next, Shutterfly had a special on photo books, and I couldn't pass up the discounted price. What's more, it was a good excuse to celebrate a year of getting to know Bear Valley Springs. It's hard to believe that it's been a year since we began looking around up here and considering this move. Now I will have two BVS anniversaries to observe. When the adventure first began plus the date the moving van deliverd our things. Even then, I didn't fully settle here psychologically until the house in LA sold.

I had hardly breathed a sigh of relief over finishing the book before a surprise phone call from one of my most favorite clients set me off on another project the day after completing the book. Following that flurry of activity, my trick digestive system did a few loop the loops that knocked me out of commission for a day.

I did squeeze in a shoot with the horses in their new home. No chasing them around that day for action shots—just some quiet settling in time and a few candid shots. You think Lancer believes he might find a carrot in that pocket?

Making Photo Books—Lots of Them

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Last night, I fell into bed exhausted and realized that I have made four photo books in four months. If I didn’t know better, I might think that sounded impressive—but, I know better.

After all, the first photo book was just a test book thrown together in March. It was a rush job to catch a free Shutterfly offer and it’s extremely simplistic. I wanted to see a sample book including the type of images I planned to shoot for the SoFoBoMo project. The virtual book I made in April for the SoFoBoMo challenge, was a product of many hours of work and much unnecessary—but typical of me—angst and completed as a PDF, not printed at all.

The May book was a special gift for a friend and contained photos taken over many years rather than any new work. This friend is from the endurance racing world and I have had the distinct pleasure of photographing many of Liz’s horses. When I got the invitation to one of the big barbecues she and her guy throw at their horse-haven a few miles south of us, I decided to make a photo book for her. (That was the secret project I worked on last month and, fortunately, it was a hit.) Naturally, I couldn’t just deal with the profile/gamut nightmare for Blurb. I had to get fancy. I created a map, wrote a dedication along with a fairy-tale type opening to the pictures, and I just had to include some photos I had never processed.

When I finished the book for Liz, I had no intention whatsoever of making another book for quite a while, having already confessed that I felt drained by facing all the self-imposed deadlines one after another. Alas, it was not meant to be. Yesterday after receiving some encouragement from another friend who has seen Liz’s book, I began to noodle the idea of making a similar book for myself. After all, I had barely had time to glance at the gift book and some of my personal favorites of all the equine images I had made were in that book. So, I casually popped into the Shutterfly site to remind myself how much money an out-of-work no-prospects person looking at two mortgages that threaten to drain resources indefinitely would have to spend to actually pay this time for one of their photo books. Whoops! Why didn’t I get an e-mail? The photo books were discounted by 20% and the offer included free shipping. How could I pass up that invitation? There was only one rub: the deadline was June 5. Right, yesterday. Of course, I did it. I couldn’t directly use any of the Blurb work, because I had no idea what havoc that profile would produce at Shutterfly. Back to the drawing board. It was a long day—mostly because I brought in a number of additional images and edited out a few, but I did it. I know I will have some regrets, and it most assuredly is not the The Book I want to make with my equine images. But, it will be a book even though with a very small b, and it’s a start.

It would seem I am officially over the major anxiety produced by the challenge of producing a photo book. The thought no longer gives me a severe stomach ache and blurred vision. It’s not exactly a yawn, but it certainly isn’t overwhelming anymore.

At Liberty--Almost

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It's been difficult to check comments on my blog, much less do any posting. We are among the poor slobs suffering with Time Warner cable service. Although we pay through the nose for broadband Internet service, what we actually get is not a lot better than the old AOL dial-up. A pox on the company Ted Turner unleashed upon all of us. Ain't monopolies grand?

On a happier note, the great looking Arab gelding, above, belongs to one of the nicest people in my life. This guy is no youngster, but you would never know it by his fiery spirit. There is actually a lead line on this guy—in the interest of everyone's sanity and safety, including his own—but, the line was a nasty distraction. I couldn't resist. So, I opened Photoshop and "set him free".

FLP 2.0 is Finally Here

The galleries at FramingLightPhotography.com have been revised. Drop by to get acquainted with FLP 2.0. Click on the image below to see much, much more.