Composition in Snow

I can't imagine not living in a place that has a change of seasons-for me it's like I can't wait for what is around the corner in the next progression of the year.  Some I'd like to spend a lot longer with (Fall) and others I'm starting to appreciate more (Spring).  Photography sure spurs my interest in what lies next, what I'll discover in the next season.  I love winter and snow, especially a new snow, and we've had our share this year.  Cross country skis and snowshoes provide the means to  explore and  snow provides the canvas.  The tracks provide the mystery of what was going on the previous night and day.

The long low light, even at mid-day, can bring out interest from patterns and lines in the snow or from the dark contrast of trunks on white.  I like the cleanness of these images compared to this shot if taken at another time of year.

Lines and Curves

The Crow and Eagle

There is a poignant painting by Georgia O'Keeffe completed after her husband, Alfred Stieglitz died in 1946, of a lone crow flying over a bare landscape, a metaphor of his death and her loneliness or

freedom afterwards.  Crows fascinate me, not that that has always been true-they sure seemed more of a pest than anything-loud and obnoxious but so intelligent and social.  They can usually give away a hunters hidden position or lead to a dead carcass.  I've come to respect them-their freedom, playfulness, smarts and carefree life.  There was a sick crow hanging around the woods here this fall-I felt bad for "him"...perhaps he had West Nile disease or some other injury that prevented him from flying.  He'd just appear  I'd see him hopping around for several weeks and never knew what became of him.

I decided to experiment a little after gun season when I moved a found yearling deer carcass to an open spot on a field.  There was good ground cover nearby and thought maybe I'd get some photographs of an eagle, coyote or wolf.  Well, the crow became the number one subject-I should have known.  This first photograph is just crazy with the silhouettes and wing position of the crows-you can almost hear their raucous calls.

In this second image, you can see the nervousness of the crows on the carcass as the eagle has his wings set and gliding in to claim his share of a meal.  In the far north, the wolf and the raven have a relationship-each benefit the other.  Here, I think the crow and the eagle likewise do.  It's common to find one bird or the other locating their next meal, which is grudgingly shared.  The eagle, gets first dibs and takes charge upon arrival though.

Eagles are still not that common around here, and I always appreciate it when I do see one.  For me, it is a good omen.  I marvel at their size and strength and in the image above-the size of their wingspan is amazing.  The lone crow in the distance doesn't stand a chance of feeding anytime soon.

A Favorite Photo

A year ago I had the chance to photograph some of my good friends performing at the Freighthouse in LaCrosse Wisconsin during Oktoberfest.  It was a self assigned job, part "roadie" and part photographer.  I do enjoy shooting people I know, and these guys have so much talent and I'm privileged to call them my friends.  It was a great night of music, fun and laughter.  The photography was a bit challenging to shoot in dark conditions, but the colored lights were just fun to work around.  I think I had about five hundred images by evenings end and then onto the editing.  This was one of my favorites-I like the reflections of the musicians and the feel of what was happening at that moment.  Even now, after some time has past, I still enjoy this picture.

TuLane's Vision

"tuLane" ( a nickname from track) is one of my HS photography students, now on her second year in Digital Photography.  She has a great eye for making pictures and has her own style.  Portraits are one of her strong suits and I always love to see what she has taken and how she tries new things-definitely not afraid to experiment.

 Landscapes are another interest of hers and I'm posting an example of her work below.   It's not a grand landscape-no majestic mountain scene or beautiful sunset, but rather what I come to think of as a "real" landscape....what we see here,  in our own backyards and what many people would just drive or walk by.  I think I really like this because it's a scene I can connect with-subtle beauty.  I think the photographers greatest gift is seeing what others miss and seeing art in everyday things...in everyday life.  It's a great thing to have students with that ability and watch it grow and develop.

(http://alyssaandingphotography1.blogspot.com/)

tuLane's Frosty Morning

Noise, Noise, Noise

Digital cameras produce noise.  Sometimes lots of it.  Bad, right?  Film had grain, and in those days it could be good (create a "look") or bad.  Seems digital noise doesn't get that same freedom....or so I thought.  There seems to slowly be a movement to allow some noise-for the good of the photo, or rather for the "look" of the image.  In a previous post, I commented about how the story in the picture was more important than the visual imperfections, and I guess I've always known that to be true.  But still, there is this nagging tug on my sleeve that says any noise is bad.

I wanted to post a picture today.  I went back into some of my old images and found this Sandhill Crane shot from last fall.  It was wayyyy dark (and in color) and noisy, but the crisp primary feathers of the birds caught my eye and maybe this could be okay.  Black and white seemed to be a better look, but in brightening the sky, up came the artifacts.  As I wrestled with it, it started to get a grainy, old newspaper look and I liked it.  It started to tell a story of the cold wind that day, the long flight ahead for these birds and that things would be difficult for them.  As it sunk in, I considered that maybe a little noise for this image was okay.  It's by no means a great photograph, but one maybe worthy of a look.

Long Flight South

Revisited Textures

Being outdoors a lot provides opportunities to experience nature in a personal way.  The camera is usually close by and when I see something that peaks my interest, I try to make a picture of it.  Georgia O'Keeffe once said that unless art is good in an abstract way, it doesn't matter what the subject is.  Okay, so that is a more-or less quote.  What she meant is the building blocks of art need to be present in order to have a decent work of art.

Textures, of course, are an element of art and one photographers really need to pay close attention to and can, by itself, be an interesting subject.  (just as color and pattern are).  So all this rambling is leading to two images from a while back, but photographs I like which feature the above mentioned elements.  Maybe that's why I still like them, even a coupleyears later.

Barley Texture

Barley, our favorite hunting lab, is always by our side and about as good as they get.  Cold wet weather doesn't seem to phase here one bit.

Rooster Feathers

The rooster pheasant has to be about the beautiful bird in North America and one of the hardest to harvest at some points.  I'm always in awe of  when holding them in my hands.

Junkmans Window

Time to put up or shut up.  I keep telling my students to write more...to post more, but I need to realize they have more than just photography class to deal with everyday.  Some of them really love photography, so for them, shooting and posting is what they need to do.  They are fun to have in class and watch grow in their art.

"Junkman" is a friend of mine raised by his father who was even more of a junkman.  You know-someone who collects stuff, packs it into a barn and knows where every little item is.  A few years ago I visited Junkmans boyhood home in  LaValle Wisconsin. His father had passed away and my good friend took the time to look at the property,  do a little hunting and just hanging out.  I loved it.  The old barn on the farmstead had just tons of things collected by his father over the years inside.  In those kinds of places, one has no idea where to start looking.  I could have spent hours in there.  I happened to have my small camera along and as we walked outside, I made this picture quickly.  I loved the red faded paint around the frame and just imagined what it must have looked like many many years ago.  The vine growing up and between the panes reminded me that nature would one day reclaim this place.  I can't always pin down why an image connects with me, and I'm not sure here, but I just like it.  Maybe it reminds me of time spent with a good friend, or that we all return to where we came.

Junkmans Window