•August 22, 2016 • Leave a Comment

I’m always looking for ways to promote my photographs so I’m always checking out calls for entry. I apply to very few of them because I’ve learned that very few of them are looking for what I do. My images are not of people. They are not exciting and innovative. They don’t say anything new. They don’t push any boundaries. They aren’t made with any ultra-new or obsolete-old processes.

My photos don’t fit into those categories because I’m consciously not trying to fit into those categories. I’m trying to fit into the oldest category there is – silence.

I work with scenes whether small or grand that I consider beautiful, and I try to distill that beauty into its essence: quiet, peace, joy, love. Even those words are too much. Let’s just call it divine silence.

I have found that images of silence and peace are not very readily appreciated on the internet where attention spans are getting shorter and shorter. Or, maybe I’m just not that good at it.

I love all kinds of photography, from landscapes to street shots to fashion. But when I’m taking photographs I tend to focus on simple and quiet. I don’t think about trying to take quiet images – I find that it’s just what I’m drawn to and what I enjoy making. If I have a goal it’s to make images that are quieter and more beautiful.

Second Wind

•July 24, 2016 • 2 Comments

I had a photo on exhibit at a local photographic art venue and I took the director up on the offer for a portfolio review. I knew it was a mistake as soon as I saw their eyes glaze over as they looked at my nature photos.

It seemed that most people in the photographic art world saw all nature photos the same. Whether it was a me-too photo of Mesa Arch or a compelling intimate landscape that they had never seen before, it was all the same to them.

So, for the past few years I’ve been moving away from nature photographs and doing more abstract images. This hasn’t taken a lot of effort or self-denial because I love doing abstract images–but I also love taking nature images.

I recently had the great good fortune to come in contact with one of the principals putting together a number of History of Boulder Visual Arts exhibits. I had wanted some advice about picking images for an upcoming exhibit. She looked at my website, at my abstract images and at my nature images and she saw no difference. She even pointed out the abstract qualities of some of my nature images. It was a revelation. I wasn’t just another guy waiting for the sunset at Tunnel View. She saw me as an artist.

Being an artist means being intensely inner-directed. You can’t make art and be too concerned with what others will think or what will sell. You have to please your heart first.

At the same time, when someone sees your art and gets it, they also get you, and the validation is very powerful. So during the week I still go out and photograph grasses, creeks, rocks and stuff, but when I have more time, I’m indulging my love of the Colorado high country and taking nature photos.

It’s the best of both worlds.

Exhibit at Rembrandt Yard

•May 30, 2016 • Leave a Comment

Starting July 11, I will be in an exhibit at Rembrandt Yard with two other artists, Sarah Sanderson and Andre Nebrega.

Rembrandt Yard is this beautiful exhibit space at 1301 Spruce Street in downtown Boulder. The opening is from 5:30-7:30 PM on July 21th.

If you’re in the neighborhood, come on by.

To Be an Artist is to Believe in Miracles

•May 23, 2016 • Leave a Comment

I go out with a camera and I believe I will create a work of art. Why? I know it’s not the camera. I know it’s not my great technical skills. Having time for creating is necessary; so is knowing how to use one’s materials, but that’s only the prerequisite. Something else has to enter into it. What is it?

Like most artists, I get absorbed in the creation of my work and in getting absorbed, some parts of personality get out of the way and creativity flows. They use the term “falling” in love because you can’t just decide to be in love, you have to “fall” which like all falling implies a loss of control. In the same way, you can’t decide to be creative. When you do, you end up with a dry spell. What you can do is open to creativity, and just like falling, it implies loss of control. And with that loss of control, the production of a work of art can happen. Who was in control to produce that beautiful piece of art? Not me. Not you. It’s miraculous.

When looking through a session’s images, whether nowadays as raw files in Photoshop or in the old days as transparencies on a light box, sometimes one or two images just hit me and I am floored. Not from every session, but often enough. I am always blown away when that happens. Yes, I was operating the camera. Yes, that will be my signature when I exhibit the piece. However I realize how fortunate I am to have participated in the creation of that image. I’m a believer. Miracles happen.

Don’t Worry. Take Pictures

•May 16, 2016 • 2 Comments

If you want to find information about how to be a great photographer and how to take great photos, you will find a lot of it on the Internet. If that’s not your style, you can go to numerous portfolio reviews and get lots of opinions on where you work is good, where it is lacking and where it can be improved.

Or, you can join any number of sharing sites online and have people critique your photos and tell you how they can be better.

Or you can be like me… I don’t look for criticism online or in portfolio reviews. I look for opinions from my wife and maybe some friends, but that’s all.

Someone I met in a critique forum accused me of being a coward for not posting there anymore. I don’t think I’m a coward. I think I’m smart. I would have been smarter if I’d left earlier.

I’ve been taking photographs for a long time. I’m pretty competent technically. I can get what I want out of my equipment and if there’s something I want to learn, I know where to go to learn it.

What can’t be learned, what can’t be absorbed from any source is who one is. And this includes who one is as an artist. Making art is the one of the most intimate and personal things one can do. Only you know when you touch that space. Only you know when you are there. No amount of positive or negative feedback can get you there. You get there by making art over and over again, making corrections, seeing where your inner-directed and outer-directed and making more art.

Yes, it feels good if someone likes what you’ve done and it feels bad if they don’t. And yes, consciously or unconsciously you’ll want to make the kind of work that brings more praise and less criticism, but eventually that will turn dry and you’ll again turn inside and produce your art.

The End Result is All That Matters

•May 9, 2016 • Leave a Comment

There’s been a bit of a storm lately about photographer Steve McCurry, best known for his National Geographic portrait of a young Afghan Girl. Here’s a link to it.

I’m a big fan of Steve McCurry’s work and I was disappointed to see his rebuttal, which most of us find hard to believe. Here’s a link to Steve McCurry’s web page.

In my opinion, the finished image is all that matters. It doesn’t matter how you got there. However, being that you are presenting a photograph and photographs tend to represent what was in front of the camera, if that was altered, you should say so.

Like Steve, I became a photographer in the day where any serious retouching of a photograph was so expensive that for most of us it was prohibitive. Only photographs used in national ads had the budgets for that kind of retouching.

So we learned that if you didn’t get it in the camera, you didn’t get it. I love photography and I love using a camera so I readily embraced these constraints. The better craftsman I was with a camera, the more chance I had of making good images.

I still approach my photography this way. If an image doesn’t work for me, I don’t look at what I could add or what I could move or remove. I just go on to the next image.

I’m pretty competent with doing what I want in Photoshop, but I’m not interested in doing those kinds of alterations. I’d rather be outside with my camera.

My wife, on the other hand, was a competent Photoshop artist before she seriously picked up a camera, so unlike me she is up for any kind of processing that would make the photo better. Is one approach any better than the other? Only the final images can answer that question.

In the above image, I removed a couple of stray and distracting grass fronds from the lower right. I’ve been known to soften the focus on areas if I feel it helps the image, but I didn’t have to do that here. I chose the good F Stop to take care of that.

Tree Stories

•March 29, 2016 • Leave a Comment

It’s a trail I haven’t hiked in maybe 5 years. The last time I hiked it I didn’t find it very interesting. I’ve decided to hike it this morning for two reasons. I think the trees might make a good backdrop for some photos of my wife that I want to take and I had a plan for small series that I wanted to enter into a magazine.

I start climbing up the trail looking left and right waiting to get inspired, but nothing happens. I could turn left and get to a meadow that I wanted to check out, but fearing I’m making a mistake, I continue on. Finally there’s a tree with an interesting background that might work. I spend some time on it trying to get something but not being terribly excited I continue on.

Something else looks interesting and I try to make a photo of that. And, as I continue on, I stop worrying about my success or failure in my choice of this trail. And then the miraculous happens.

As I continue down the trail every tree I see is getting my attention and they all want to tell me something. Every tree and group of trees I see is telling me their stories. I look and listen and somehow intuitively choose which ones to tell to you.

I take my time walking up the trail listening as best I can and taking it all in. What a joy it is to spend this time with them photographing their stories.

I don’t think I’m talking about anthropomorphism. The trees don’t speak in sentences in a language I can translate to English. But I do believe that they are speaking with me and after having to listen to my own, and a host of other’s human stories, it’s a real pleasure to be here and just listen to them.