Random Photo Notes, Vol. 8
These are just some notes I have written about a few of my favorite photos. They range from social media posts to descriptions on my homepage, sometimes handwritten notes made in the field. They are not in chronological order.
I’ve always found it helpful to put words to my images, whether in the form of scribbling exposure settings in a notebook or writing about composition.
If photography can be partly considered the organization of the visible chaos that surrounds us, then I believe writing can be somewhat to do with taming the invisible and internal.
Looking back on my notes has always helped me to reflect on my technical and creative progress, as well as on my journey through life.
In Tune, 3/31/23
Spring has returned in a colorful way this year, and it’s brought an energetic vibrancy to the places I enjoy visiting. This past Friday afternoon I hiked fairly far upstream along a creek I’ve been drawn to for many months. Usually, the small stream is bone dry but recent storms have brought new life to its shores and boulders. This fallen tree reminded me of a tuning fork, a tool musicians use to calibrate their instruments and to sync with one another. I found a serene “tuning” myself as I searched for trillium and other wildflowers in the area. Though I didn’t manage to photograph any, I did discover an interesting section of the creek featuring a large decedent of the forest. There is a certain tune to the cycle of death and rebirth this time of year, and for whatever reason I seldom find the lesson difficult to connect with. It’s a collection of symbols, and often metaphors, that seems to hand itself to me with some regularity.
Confluence, 7/2/23
I wrote a new blog post about this day because the Summer heat always puts a damper on my creative motivation. After hiking about two miles upstream on a local creek I found a cool-looking confluence where two smaller brooks come together at an oasis of flat rocks and shallow water.
It was a great experience because many things came together for me, not just the converging creeks. A thunderstorm cooled the air and gave way to nice atmosphere and color saturation, and I found a good rhythm photographing exposed boulders and rushing water.
For some reason I always forget how peaceful and calming water can be, so I hope this photo can serve as a reminder to seek it out more as the Summer continues to warm.
Carefully, 8/2/23
Early August heat and humidity slowed me down as usual on this particular day but I still managed to enjoy my time in a quiet forest setting. These two trees live at the edge of a forest where light enters from the open pasture beyond. The pair of trees that caught my interest lean and reach toward the light in a gesture that to me seems sincere but not desperate. They are wise and careful not to overextend, keeping their branches in close so as not to be too exposed to wind. They’re in it for the long haul.
I wanted to convey the humidity and cloudiness of the day, so I opted for a lighter post-processing treatment featuring lighter blacks and lifted shadows. Saturated greens and randomness compete for attention in this woodland world, so finding prominent shapes and figures among the busy under story is necessary for composition. The process also helps me to relax my mind.
Regardless, I couldn’t stay in one place for too long without getting covered in mosquitos and sweating profusely, but I did experiment for about an hour with various camera positions. Ultimately, despite all my maneuvering, a photo taken from standard head-height, looking straight on at the trees, appealed to me the most.
I think it’s all the time my brother and I spent playing in the woods behind our childhood home that often draws me back to the woods where I now live. Sometimes while photographing I’ll remember some random things, like the spears we fashioned out of bamboo or hardwood sticks, the dilapidated shack where neighborhood kids would smoke their first cigarettes and hide beer and magazines, or the overgrowth we made into a kickass fort inspired by Star Wars and Robin Hood. At one point, these trees reminded me of a couple of kids carefully exploring the woods together, peering around new corners in search of the next adventure or forgotten stash of adolescent contraband.
