I Dreamed of a Circle

Hi friends. My class is moving fast and furious as I scurry to keep up. My current assignment; circles, triangles, rectangles. Real and implied. I wanted to play the 10,000 Maniacs Circle song for you as you think of what an 'implied' circle means, but alas, you'll have to go here if you want to sample it.

* A special note to Stephanie. Thank you for visiting and thank you for taking the time to comment. Blogspot would not allow me to post your comment but I hope you keep coming!

Cemetery

I love visiting cemeteries, not because of any romantic notions of death, but to read the headstones and try to piece together a story of family and society from these remnants of the past. I visited Greenlawn Cemetery recently and was moved by how poetically Victorians memorialized their deceased loved ones. One can find the graves of small children, young soldiers who fought in the Civil War, famous business magnates who gave their names to businesses and skyscrapers downtown, famous writers, and elderly gentlemen who apparently enjoyed fishing.

Because of the mature trees, dense undergrowth, and a pond, Greenlawn Cemetery is also know as a nature refuge where exotic migrating birds can be spotted on their way north or south, depending on the season. It seems like a nice place to spend your afterlife, doesn't it?

Searching for Order

The other night, my husband and I were listening to music together (Beethoven, to be specific), and he said, "Listen ... he's searching for order." And then it hit me - that's what I'm doing when I take a picture. Searching for order. 

And I'm sure it's different for every photgrapher, professional or amateur. What is it that you are doing when you take a picture?

Line, Pattern, Texture, Rhythm

Years ago, as a first year art student, I remember leaving my first oil painting class with something of an epiphany. I walked around seeing the whole world differently; infused with qualities I hadn't noticed before. I saw bands of light dragged across a green lawn, and the curly darkness of leaves against the sky. Photography provides some of the same heightened sensory experience. The difference, in my mind, is that photography isn't so much an art of creating, but an art of seeing and editing.

Last week I was asked to focus on line, pattern, texture and rhythm. Once I get into a project, I see the things all around me and try to fit it into a visual framework. But then I'm asked to focus on something else entirely and want to protest because I still have all this line, pattern, texture and rhythm to explore. The idea, I suppose, is to incorporate all of these ideas into a single vision.

Calm

I worked on some pretty serious projects this week. Long hours and tight deadlines had several people scurrying to get things done. At the end of it all, a colleague asked if she could ask me a personal question. I nodded. She said, "Amidst all the chaos and madness, you've reamined calm the whole time. What is your secret?" I was flattered, but I felt, wrongly. She must have heard me blink three times. I hadn't recalled feeling anything close to calm all week. I can't remember my actual response, but it was something like, "What does drama get you?"

I listen to music. I put on perfume. I step away from my desk.

How do you remain calm in a storm?

Framing

One of my favorite things about photography is that you can frame each image exactly how you want a viewer to see the subject. You can include, or leave out, details to tell the story just as you want it told. It can be as beautiful, ugly, or complicated as you wish.

This is just as interesting to me in life. We shape how the world sees us by giving a glimpse of only the artifacts we deem interesting or noteworthy, or artifacts that make us popular, feared, or respected. On the receiving end, we are only given access to limited information. Whether we are witnessing something lovely, angry, amusing, or blameworthy; we are only seeing a fraction of the full picture. To participate in life, we must understand that we are only given a small part of the story. The rest requires generosity and patience.

Abstract

Every new photography class presents interesting challenges; learning about the instructor's philosophical approach to capturing the visual world, what is important to him/her, and what is unacceptable subject matter (pets, flowers, babies, and ceiling fans). This class is no exception, and has had me hitting the streets for new ways of looking at the same materials that have been around since photography was invented.

This week's mission? Abstract images in which you cannot discern what you are actually looking at, with emphasis on color, line, and texture. What works for you? What doesn't? Why?

Foodie with a Camera

A few weeks ago, when my sister visited from out of town, we went out for brunch at Le Chatelaine. When the waiter brought our food, my husband sat patiently, warning my sister not to touch her plate until I was finished taking pictures.

Yesterday, my friend Sharon shared a story from the New York Times on this growing trend of food photography. And food blogging. And flickr groups based on food photography. The article mentions several groups I have heard of, and I count seven food photography groups of which I am a member, if you count farmer’s markets among them (I do). I've been following Jen at SimplyBreakfast for years now. I swap photos of food with friends on Facebook; it’s like sharing a virtual meal, bonding over a common appreciation of flavor. I photograph food because I really, really like it.

The article suggests that this trend can be taken to unhealthy heights, not unlike compulsive calorie-counting. While I admit I get a little pang of regret every time I find myself in front of a beautiful plate of food and cannot (mostly for social reasons) take a picture, I like to think that most food photographers and bloggers are practicing aesthetic skills and celebrating our most primal and rewarding sensory experience; flavors.

As Javier Garcia notes in the NYT article, “the French philosopher and gourmand Jean Anthelme Brillat-Savarin wrote, “Tell me what you eat, and I will tell you what you are.”

What I like about food photography is that you have a visual reminder of a meal enjoyed with friends and family. Looking at it conjures not only the flavors and textures, but also the conversation and laughter shared in the moment. My favorite thing about shooting food? It doesn’t squirm or complain.

The Wise Man

I read a quote the other day; the young man lives in the future, the old man lives in the past, but the wise man lives in the present. I have to agree with this philosophically, but one can't live this way all the time. It can become rather exhausting.

My husband and I received some excellent financial advice recently. "Begin with the end in mind." Sounds simple enough, doesn't it? Don't I do this every day? Well, not really ... my days are far more tactical than strategic. And I think it is no different for most people just making it through each day, one small crisis or victory at a time. But we were challenged with coming up with a clear picture of what we would like the rest of life to look like. What are our mutual goals? What is achievable, and what are we willing to do or sacfrifice to achieve them?

So we went to the archives, my old copies of Cottage Living (may they RIP) to clarify our thoughts. My husband was looking at garden plans while I was pricing out kitchen renovations. (Or getting distracted by food photography.) While these approaches seem to conflict, they all fit into the grand scheme of things.

Now, to begin at the end ...