Living with My Photography

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Recently, I mentioned the joys of hanging prints in our house and the more I thought about it, the more I realized how important it is to me to have some images on view.

Because our previous house was small, there weren’t many places to hang a 16x20 framed piece and I had never hung a 20x24 frame there. It was those old days of severely limited display space that was uppermost in my mind when I made those comments a while back, and I am getting a big kick out of seeing prints that previously were only hung at shows, or never before even printed, much less hung.

On the other hand, even back then, with more limited options for display, I was surrounded by prints. In the last couple of years that we lived in that house, I had come up with a makeshift way to keep me focused on what I was doing and why. I collected test prints, some of which were proofs either for clients, or pieces that were to be shown somewhere, and some that I had printed out of curiosity, after experimenting with a processing technique. Most of the proofs were 4x6 or 5x7, but, in a few cases, I printed 8x10.

The next step involved what I first came to know as “museum stick”. This reusable adhesive (one brand is Handi-Tak) had long been a staple item in our home. (In earthquake country, you want to have something around that holds valuable items secure when the earth starts rockin’ and rollin’.) One of the beauties of this sticky stuff is that it won’t damage finishes. (It’s always a good idea to test any product like this on the back or underside of a surface before proceeding. But I will say that I never found anything damaged by it, and we used a great deal of it.) Thanks to this handy adhesive and a stack of prints, I put prints in little nooks and crannies where I either couldn’t have, or wouldn’t have, thought of hanging a framed print.

Mostly, I stuck those prints on the insides of cabinet doors. The beauty of that casual treatment was no unsightly clutter on the outside and no need to matte the prints, much less frame them. Flexibility was a major bonus. I could change my display on any old whim. If I opened the medicine cabinet seeking relief from a tummy-ache, or some way to deal with a small cut that couldn’t be handled with a wad of tissue, I was greeted by a photo of our purple geraniums. A trip to the linen cabinet might include photos of beautiful horses galloping about, or standing just so with ears forward and eyes flashing. Reaching for a glass in a kitchen cupboard yielded a reminder of a favorite scene from a road trip.

It was an informal, simple, flexible, inexpensive (to say the least) way to display photos—dozens of photos, and I hadn’t realized how much I was missing that until we began hanging the larger framed pieces here. Now, I just have to find that museum stick-um that’s in one of those boxes somewhere. On second thought, maybe I’ll add it to a shopping list.

NOTE: Handi-Tak is available at Michael's Craft Stores and, today, I found QuakeHold! at Amazon.

Lost and Found Department

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For me, one of the small aggravations of moving was the number of items that were lost. Well, not really lost, but definitely misplaced. And let’s face it, misplaced means you can’t use the darn thing.

One of the casualties was my Canon G7. The camera, charger, and case had simply vanished. I knew it was here someplace, but for the life of me I couldn’t find it. Eventually, my greatest dread became finding it a couple of years from now ruined by an old and leaking battery.

Several days into my recent moving-in marathon, I opened a cabinet and discovered a tote-bag that was suspiciously heavy considering what I first saw was a small tablet, a magazine, a paper napkin (!), and some other odds and ends that I would have used on a road trip. Sure enough, at the bottom of the tote was the leather bag holding the G7. I was even more surprised to find that the battery was still charged and I was able to immediately take some test shots. Because the camera hadn’t been seen in at least eight months, my confidence in the G7 battery shot up a few notches.

I never used the pocket camera a great deal. When I bought it, I had been committed to shooting RAW files for a long time and had suspected that I might find it frustrating to once again shoot jpg’s. Besides, I found it difficult to give up my viewfinder. From the beginning, I carried my bigger camera, unless it was totally impractical. Still, there were times when it was most convenient to put the long strap on my shoulder, or the camera in a jacket pocket and be prepared for casual grab shots.

Friday night turned out to be one of those occasions when it seemed ideal to own such a camera. We were scheduled to go to the BVS Equestrian Center Lounge for a meeting of the Horseman’s Association to hear a talk delivered by a lady-historian whose work we know. Originally, I had been excited about the opportunity to hear the historian’s talk; but, I was still feeling the effects of my work marathon. My back was hurting and I hadn’t slept well the night before. I was close to bailing out, but didn’t.

By the time we got to the Center, I was noticing that the evening was beautiful and I was glad that, on a last minute whim, I had grabbed my handy-dandy pocket camera. It certainly wasn’t an occasion for lugging the 50D. The sight of the light on the building, trees, and grass immediately lifted my spirits and it was easy to make a snapshot.

A few minutes later, we sat mesmerized, while the delightful Gloria Hine Gossard told us tales about the earliest settlers of Bear Valley Springs. The Husband and I were already familiar with Ms. Gossard’s style and passion for history, since a friend had generously given us a copy of her book “Three Valleys of The Tehachapi-Bear, Brite, and Cummings”. Seeing Ms. Gossard in person and hearing stories in her voice brought all the characters even more to life. This lady has lived many decades, yet exudes a “joie de vivre” that would shame someone half her age. Her enthusiasm for her subject and depth of knowledge were inspirational. As the evening went on, I began looking forward to getting a picture of Ms. Gossard; but, she left the gathering while the meeting was in session. As her friend pushed her wheelchair from the room, my heart sank. Some things aren’t meant to be. Still, I wasn’t tired anymore. I had caught some of Gloria Gossard’s vitality.

The photo above was my first snapshot taken with the G7 in our new territory. (And, no, I didn’t boost those greens.) Who knows? I may carry my pocket camera more often now. After all, I may not have gotten a photo of our Bear Valley historian, but at least I got a picture that will remind me of my evening with her.

Out of Touch

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Normally, during periods when I don’t post I am at least reading and posting comments at the sites of other bloggers. Not so during my most recent moving-in week. I wasn’t even taking time to read my e-mail and that is highly unusual for me. Over the next couple of days, I have plans to take breaks and treat myself to some blog-browsing.

There is one positive thing about not keeping up with fellow bloggers. When I do begin my rounds, I am apt to find not one, but several posts at some of my favorite sites. Somehow, the motivation to linger longer at a particular stop makes the visit even more delicious. It is not just the delayed gratification. It is the difference between a brief chat with a friend (during which you are quickly exchanging recent updates) as opposed to settling in for a leisurely visit and savoring a rich collection of topics. Or, reading a good novel by rushing through a few paragraphs at a time compared to settling in for a few hours to totally lose yourself in the characters whose lives you are following.

When I have time to keep up with the latest, I lack the discipline to delay gratification. Instead, I eagerly rush to check for daily tidbits and miss the quiet moments of quality time spent with the thoughts of a friend. Perhaps my brief absences aren’t such a bad idea, after all.

Owning My Space

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About the photo: Night, once again, registering his fury at being left behind.

Where have I been and why so quiet? Well, the short answer is I have been working hard and so tired I couldn’t see straight, much less write a couple of somewhat coherent sentences. If you have read a few entries in my online journal, you know that we moved a little less than a year ago and you can definitely put us in the class of people who move into a new location in stages. In other words, unpacking priorities are determined by the demands of the moment. Essential kitchen utensils, basic clothing and bath requirements, as well as office equipment (that includes some of the many books) came first. Stage two included the items absolutely necessary for making this feel just a little more like a home rather than a roomy motel. For the last week, I have been deep into stage three—making this feel like our home. That has meant hours of digging into boxes filled with those various and sundry life-treasures one collects over the decades.

I admire people who relocate and within a month their house looks as though they had lived there for years, but I can’t identify with their speed and efficiency. I could offer age and reduced endurance as an excuse—not to mention three art shows in a row and SoFoBoMo— but that would be a bald-faced lie. It has always taken me time to get to know a house, come to terms with it’s quirks, and work out my relationship with it. A vastly different house from the one we lived in for twenty years and in a very different setting has meant a new version of our interior landscape.

Most of the work has been pretty close to sheer drudgery in physical terms (yesterday, I couldn’t name a part of my body that didn’t hurt), but the bright spot is hanging more of my prints because I have never had the pleasure of seeing this many of them on our walls. And, I am not finished. After I enjoy a brief breather from my unpacking and hanging marathon, I need to reprint and frame another piece that sold. Because that piece happens to be one of those we most want to display in our main living area, I get to print and frame it twice. Next on the agenda is digging into files for more images that will make this uniquely our space.

Thanks to hanging a number of prints, I have a greater sense of the value of printing and displaying my work. Certainly, seeing a sizable number of framed prints in shows and viewing them amongst guests is exciting, but displaying them in my environment in a semi-permanent arrangement is far more satisfying. I have a feeling that seeing more of my pictures on a daily basis and having the opportunity to develop an ongoing relationship with them is going to affect my photography. How? I’m not certain yet. That may take some time. But, that’s all right, along with another three or four more stages of moving in, I expect many more opportunities to refine my relationship with my cameras.

Missing Betty

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I miss Betty, the red-tailed hawk that so often perched on our roof. We haven’t seen her in months and I think about her frequently. Now keep in mind that we don’t even know if, indeed, our hawk was a Betty, or a Burt. For a little background on how Betty got the name and was assigned a gender, see “Meet Bitchin’ Betty” from Wednesday, July 9, 2008.

The handsome fellow in the photo above has been around a bit lately and does occasionally make use of our roof—sitting in Betty’s spot. But, it’s not the same. Paul Lester posted some observations Tuesday about the way things change no matter how much we wish they wouldn’t. This definitely falls in that category. I had hoped that we would see Betty for many seasons to come, and I catch myself looking for her to return any day now.

Besides, perhaps she will return soon. After all, we saw her most often in late August and through the fall. There may a simple explanation. It's possible that she prefers the hunting elsewhere this time of year. Or, perhaps she has moved on. I don’t want to think about remaining alternatives. Another possibility that I do like is that the handsome fellow who now uses her perch is an offspring. It could be true. I have been told that the hawk I am seeing these days is a young red tail.

Of course, I am romanticizing to avoid unpleasant thoughts. But, I don’t see anything wrong with a little romanticizing now and then to smooth the rough edges of change.

Good Looking Red Head

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Okay, that title was a cheap shot and I should be ashamed. I am. Sort of.

We see a fair number of these woodpeckers from time to time. Normally, it is the Husband who spots birds. Almost invariably, I will be fixated on something else and he alerts me. The variety of birds is one of the reasons that I find myself thinking about a 300mm or even 400mm lens. This photograph, (taken with the 200mm f/4L) is cropped quite a bit to provide a closer look.

I love that red topknot. According to our “Encyclopedia of North American Birds” this is an Acorn Woodpecker and that red top is called a “crown”. Not surprisingly, the Acorn Woodpecker prefers woods where oak trees are prevalent. While it isn’t apparent in the photograph, there are plenty of oaks nearby. This fellow appears to be scanning for another part of his diet: unlucky insects.

Caliente Creek Road Revisited

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A while back, Mark Graf wrote about photographs “Rescued from Picture Purgatory”. Periodically, I think about that post. For the last few days I have been under the weather with my crazy digestive system giving me fits. With little energy to get out and about, I spent time revisiting some old folders and tweaking images that I never had bothered to process. Sunday, I found this one in a Caliente Creek Road folder and enjoyed working on it, so I thought I would share it here.

Anniversaries

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Today I am marking the second anniversary of my blog. And, I haven’t a thing to wear. Actually, the problem is that I don’t have much to say about it.

I suppose it is worth a sentence or two to say that when I began my blog on July 11, 2007, I had no real clue what I would write about and why I was starting a blog. It seemed as though it was worth trying—after all, it was free. Unfortunately, my posting is as erratic as it was in the beginning, and I certainly wish that I had chosen a more original name for the blog, but I wasn’t willing to invest much thought in the experiment when I began—I was that unsure of my intentions. A couple of days ago, Andreas Manessinger shared fascinating thoughts about blogging and celebrated post 1000 in two and a half years. In my two years, I haven’t posted one-third that number. I could work on being more consistent. Still, I can’t imagine now allowing the blog to wither and die. I am grateful that I decided to explore the blogosphere.

The photograph of the doe was taken mid-June when higher ISO was on my mind. (I had just gotten the 50D.) The Husband and I took a drive up on Deer Trail to enjoy the view and spotted this gal beside the road. The light was fading quickly and this was taken at ISO 1600. I couldn’t very well bracket shots (she wasn’t still long) which meant the exposure for the dark background was less than ideal and showed some moderately unattractive noise. I experimented with a small amount of selective noise reduction in CS3. A down and dirty mask thanks to the Quick Selection Tool made the selective part easy and fast.

After shooting with the 50D for a little over a month now, I am comfortable with the battery grip. I still shoot occasionally with the 40D, even the 20D, and I continue to have moments of mental paralysis when shifting from one body to another. I know that I could only solve that problem by taking hundreds of photographs every day and regularly changing bodies. Not likely, I am afraid—except in brief periods of intense activity.

Black Cats and Distractions

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I am not superstitious, but after enjoying this sleek, black cat outside my window on the morning of July 4th, I did have another of those pesky sunstroke/heatstroke/ whatever episodes later in the day. And, this one in spite of thinking that I was doing everything right. Hmm. Maybe that black cat was telling me something. Nah. I’m still not superstitious.

I wish I could tell you that I have been doing all sorts of exciting things since I finished my book, but it would be a fib. Between some instances of just being under the weather, a little hung over from finishing SoFoBoMo, errand-running in Bakersfield and Los Angeles (each of those chews up a day), and distracted by some domestic projects, I haven’t had anything worth writing about. I was pretty certain you weren’t interested in my thoughts about those errands. I even surmised that you wouldn’t have nearly as much fun reading about The Husband and I putting together our new television console as we had completing it. Remember the old days when we bought all our furniture fully assembled?

It's Done

My book is now posted at the official SoFoBoMo site.

Twas the end of SoFoBoMo and all through the blogosphere, not many photographers were stirring—not uttering a peep.

Maybe a lot of us are tired. Or maybe it's the heat. Or, maybe I am just projecting. At any rate, a number of people seem quieter than usual. I think it was quiet last summer about this time, as well.

Now I have some time to enjoy all the other posted books. What a treat.