Essay #72: Fall colors

The trees here haven't changed much yet, but we've no shortage of fall colors!

Essay #67: Summer sunflowers

Sunflowers are such happy flowers. Not that the flowers themselves feel emotion, of course, but that they symbolize happiness and bright, sunny summer days.

I'm not much of a "flowery" or "frilly" girl, but I do appreciate fresh flowers. I'm considering decorating my dining room with sunflower photos to give the space a kiss of summer sun even in the midst of winter. I'm expecting better results with photos than my attempts at keeping houseplants that unfailingly meet tragic ends after a short time in my care. I could make a centerpiece from artificial flowers, but silk just can't replicate the life, character, and perfect imperfection of real flowers.

Essay #63: Lost in the shuffle

I took some pictures a couple of weeks ago on a trip back up to Wisconsin and dumped them on my hard drive sight unseen. I never do this. I often do stumble across photos I'd forgotten about (in fact, I recently found photos from not one, but two downhere concerts that I never uploaded anywhere), but I've at least looked at them before. Tonight, while putting files into folders, I realized that I need to pay better attention to what I've got and not just dump them and move on. Because otherwise I'm prone to miss things like this, and the learning opportunities that they present.

Essay #56: Tulips

Spring has truly overcome winter when the drab, gray ground suddenly bursts into riotous color of all shades and sizes: Tulips!

I think that tulips may be one of my photographic muses. A patch of big, tall ones--like these red and yellow beauties--simply demands to be explored. Each new perspective unveils new beauty. Photographing tulips is truly a study in color, light and shape. They inspire me to explore other scenes and subjects from new perspectives as well. A tilt of the camera, an upward angle, direct lighting versus side lighting...so many possibilities!

Essay #41: Fragile tenacity

A cold, frosty October morning isn't the most hospitable environment for new blossoms. That didn't stop these lovely flowers from opening to greet the day. They're a bit beaten down by the chilled wind and an early morning snowfall, but not defeated. I guess it's true: You can never hold back spring.

Essay #31: Wildflowers

Wildflowers are so colorful. So much vibrance in such delicate packages.

45mm 1/500 f/5.6 ISO 200

Essay #8: Macro

This image is more of a "close-up" than a marco, but I couldn't find any obliging insects.

I enjoy macro the same way I enjoy a good book: It provides a glimpse into a different world. A dragonfly's eye, the heart of a flower, light dancing on the surface of a water droplet. Macro looks closer, appreciating detail and magnifying complexity. The smaller the scale, the more intricate the design, and the more breathtaking the sight. It's all there, waiting for discovery, but I'm often too blind or too busy to notice.   


Specs: 45mm 1/50 f/11 ISO 400

Essay #6: Sunflower

I went for a drive out in the country this afternoon, one of the perks of not having a job to report to. A park had some lovely red-orange sunflowers.

When I decided on the photo-a-day format, I didn't comprehend what an ambitious undertaking it would be.

It's not easy to produce an image every day that I feel comfortable sharing with the world. I'm never entirely satisfied. A unique challenge I'm grappling with now is a lack of post-processing abilities. I'm blogging from a borrowed laptop, sans photo editing software. Any effects I want have to be achieved on-scene with lighting or performed in-camera.

While frustrating, it's forced me to stretch as a photographer. I've grown so used to clicking away with the mindset of "I'll fix it later" that I've had to change my approach significantly. I have to be more intentional about composition, framing, lighting, exposure, white balance, etc. In a routine dependent on edit, undo, back and rewind, it's rewarding to do something right the fist time.

Specs: 34mm 1/50 f/4.9 ISO 200