Stand Apart

Photography 101 has its challenges. Monday’s pop of color was no different.

I took another sunrise photo and thought that’d be it:

And then inspiration struck as I was cleaning out my supply cabinet and found a hoard of forgotten pencils – and just in time for standardized testing, too!

                      Stand Apart
                        by J.E.

People always say to be yourself until you do, then 
you find that everybody lied to you: "Your hair is 
too short, too long, too bright, too dark; your 
music's too loud, too goth, too punk, too rock; your 
art is too something; why can't you just be 
normal like us? You're so fake, focused on the 
external; fit back in the box in our monochrome 
world where no one stands out, no sensitivities 
curdled."

So we hide ourselves away behind a facade of what
passes for normal; believing we're flawed we put on 
a show for the world to behold while the things that 
make us us grow withered and cold. In a world that 
sees in charcoal grey and midnight black we see in 
bright neon hues and refuse to go back to the way 
things were before. Choosing rather to wrestle our
innermost demons, we risk and dare all to be the 
yellow pencil.

Personally, I like the first pencil photograph best; what do you think?

Tuesday, 17 March, 2015

Photo Theme: Mystery

I struggled finding a subject that hinted at mystery using shadows and the so-called Golden Hour for dramatic effect.

Eventually I hit upon two possibilities.

What mysteries do you see?

Monday, 16 March, 2015

The Horses are Coming

Can you hear the locomotive
Over wooden trestles running?
Now and then its whistle plaintive
Names the letter Q. Now coming
Ever closer, see the native
Coal-steam rising and billowing, 
Towering and authoritative.

The title for this post comes from “Dog Days are Over” by Florence and the Machine:

The dog days are over
The dog days are done
The horses are coming
So you better run

Saturday, 14 March, 2015

Here Comes the Sun

The recent time change seems to have affected me more this year than any other year.

My colleagues tell me it’s because I’m getting older.

“Just wait ’til you’re our age!” they say.

But the benefit to the change is I can see things like this:

The sun rose slowly, as if it wasn't sure it was worth all the effort. ~ Sir Terry Pratchett, The Light Fantastic

Friday, 13 March, 2015

The Color of the Season

Winter in eastern North Carolina comes in one color: brown.

Winter rains transform open ground into a morass of dirt and mud, covered by the winter winds with a blanket of dead leaves and pine straw, leaving barren trees standing as skeletal sentinels waiting for spring’s resurrection.

In this scene of seasonal tedium I discovered a hint of things to come:

Our assignment was this:

Capture the natural world with your camera: document a moment outside, big or small. From a panorama snapped during your morning hike to a close-up of a leaf in your yard, we invite you to document this wondrous world around us.

Can’t go outside? Photograph something — furniture, architecture, etc. — that looks or feels organic, or mimics the shapes and movements of nature.

Today’s Tip: Exploring the outdoors, with camera in hand, is an opportunity to look for natural lines that lead our eyes to different parts of a frame. Envision the bend of a stream, or the curve of a petal: how can you use these lines in your composition? If you see strong vertical, horizontal, or diagonal lines, can you play with the orientation to create a more dynamic composition? Can you apply — or break — the “Rule of Thirds“?

I find a sort of beauty in the asymmetrical radial lines of the pine cone against the horizontal wood grain.

I’m also kind of proud; this is the first time I can recall producing any sort of natural soft focus in the background.

What do you think?

Thursday, 12 March, 2015

That Ghostly Galleon

Yesterday’s big perspective theme stumped me . . . until I arrived at work this morning.

As I walked outside, I looked up, expecting the same overcast, cloudy sky obscuring the morning moon.

To my surprise, the clouds had begun to dissipate, their rapid movement permitting brief glimpses of a majestic silver orb suspended in a sea of blue.

I ran inside to the science supplies, grabbed the telescope I’d been experimenting with, rushed out to the nearly-empty parking lot, and pointed the sighting lens at my target.

After a few brief adjustments, everything was in place. Lacking a camera mount and unable to correctly focus the telescope, I did the next best thing: I placed my camera against the sighting lens, manually focused, and clicked when I thought the frame appeared decent.

I took six photographs overall, but only one captured the moon with minimal shake.

I’ll let you be the judge of any relative success:

For Perspective