Organic Light Pan

I am here in La Jolla this weekend at the La Jolla Festival of the Arts.  It was a last minute show added to cover for a fellow photographer, Michael Gordon, who could not make it to the show this year.  It was a lovely day.  Perfect show weather, mild temperatures, clear blue sunny skies.  After the show closed today, I decided to go out and explore a bit around La Jolla.  I consulted with fellow photographer Jimmy Gekas on some good locations and I ended up at the La Jolla Cove.

I pulled out the 4×5 camera and made some exposures that I thought would make some nice photos.  I did not get any rich color in the skies at Jimmy always seems to get, but this was only my first time here.  I mimicked the 4×5 compositions with my DSLR to add to this post.

I hope you enjoy my first take on what is undoubtedly an interesting place to photograph.

Sandstone Pattern

Potholes in Tafoni sandstone

Rush the Gap

Into The Abyss

I’ll be here in La Jolla for one more day at the festival. Come on out if you have the chance.

Peace.

Each year as winter approaches the world prepares itself to go dormant and fall asleep.  Trees lose their leaves and become only skeletons of what they were.  The land dry and hard awaits the rains that will make it supple once more and fertile for the seeds of the summer to finally take root.  In the winter, everything goes to sleep.

So too should we take a lesson from it and learn how to look inwards and take stock, find a respite, and let go of those things that drive us so that we can rejuvenate ourselves.

However, this past winter I did not see it in that light.  This past winter had to have been one of the least productive times I have ever had as a photographer. Had it not been for the new moon each month I do not think I would have even ventured out with the camera at all.   All the while I questioned my worth as a photographer as no matter what I looked at I could not see anything in such a way that appealed to me to make a photo of it.

Yet when I allowed my auto-pilot to take control, I found that great photos were still coming from me even if I could or would not see it.  ‘Washed’ was the only fruit that was harvested all winter.

Washed

I guess what I did not see happening was exactly what I needed.  I too had gone dormant for the winter.  I needed to take a creative time out to allow for new growth to emerge.

Spring entered and something sprung inside of me.  In early April, still thinking I was in my slump I geared up to go out to photograph the Moon of Jamad Al-Awwal.  Then just as I was about to leave, an emotional train wreck occurred that derailed my outing completely.  Without the time left in the day to make it to my quite place in the mountains to see and photograph the moon in peace, as I normally do, I had only enough time to walk down my street to an opening amongst the trees to see and make a record of my celestial friend the Moon.

Cradled

When I saw the moon just nestled there amongst those branches appearing safe and protected, something inside of me suddenly opened.  My heart saw everything anew and I felt that Spring had finally sprung in me.

The flowers were soon to be blooming and I could barely contain the excitement in me to be out there once again finding light and bringing it back for others to see as well.  The time had come and I made my trek in search of the wildflowers.  I visited all my old haunts to find that even though my spring had sprung this year, for the flowers they decided to take a year off.  I suppose they deserve time off as well.  With just under 1000 miles of driving this year in search of those elusive gems of color, I found only one patch that conveyed my sense of coming to life again.

I Can See For Miles

Standing there in Carrizo Plain I could see for miles.  The elation and disappointment coupled to move me in such a way as to not let the absence of flowers keep me from enjoying Spring and I gave up on the preconceived notion of finding wildflowers and I just went wild.  Photographing things for the shear joy of it.  My creative juices were flowing with such fervor that I did not know when to stop.

I returned home to lead a private workshop and I took my client to all my familiar spots in the Santa Cruz Mountains and along the San Mateo Coast.  I had no preconceived ideas of what I would find and I expected to just stand around most of the time directing my client at all the things that I had photographed more times than I can count without having the desire to do the same again.

The funny thing was that everything looked fresh and new, as if I had never seen them before.  I took more photos in that one day than I had in possibly the last six months!  I was seeing light in a very new way and I liked it.

Ladder of Light

Then the day came to a close and my elation was given a good stiff clocking to the jaw.  On a beach that I have worked on for years, among hard stone sculpted over the millennia I saw what Mother Earth wanted me to see.  Even though it was a spectacular day, with a slight sea breeze blowing, seagulls calling, the sound of crashing surf, the scent of the redwoods and the sounds of a babbling creek still fresh in my mind from earlier that morning, here was Mother Earth shedding one black tear.  A stark reminder that she is in pain.

Black Tear

Even though my creativity and vision came back to me this spring, Mother Earth did not let me forget why I make portraits of her: to remind others of just how fragile she is.  She also reminded me that she goes through cycles for a reason – so that growth can continue.  Down time, rebirth, growth, vigor and waning are all part of a precious cycle that we must adhere to as well if we are to grow.  We also must take heed in understanding that we do not make our own fate as that is in the hands of the Divine.  We cannot produce whatever it is that we preconceive in our minds and that sometimes we just need to be grateful for what is given and appreciate it as much if not more than what we originally wanted.  In the end, we will find that what we do come away with was much more valuable.

Enjoy the rest of Spring, it will be gone before we know it.

Peace.

It has been difficult for me in the last several weeks.  The new moon came and went, and even though I photographed it and made a beautiful composition of it I found it difficult to post anything about it.  I have been thinking quite a bit as well, and unfortunately returned to listening to the radio news and talk shows.  I really must learn to leave that nonsense, however I sometimes need to know what is happening in our world.  Let me tell you… what you hear is very depressing, so much so that it pushes me closer to being a cynic, which is never a good thing.

From the earthquake in Japan and the resulting nuclear catastrophe to the charlatans setting up fake aid organizations duping sincere folks wanting to help to the impending world contamination with radioactive iodine and cesium, the whole thing is infuriating.  We really can’t find better ways to boil water to turn turbines to spin generators to make electricity…really?

Then there is the unfolding war in Libya that is so unfortunate.   It is very frustrating.  But hey, call it support for the freedom fighters and everyone is on board.  Never mind that the citizens of Libya had free housing and free education and health care for everyone!  Now lets drop depleted uranium munitions there as well.  Argh!  We don’t have enough deformed war babies being born in the world.

But wait there’s more.

Let’s tax the poor and give the rich a tax-free pass so that we can turn our nation in to a dysfunctional third world country governed by an oligarchy rather than a democracy.  I could not believe this when I heard it. The top 1% of the U.S. population control 42% of the financial wealth! Huh?

And lets abolish Medicare and Medicaid so that our elders and children who can’t afford health care just vanish so we don’t have to worry about them anymore. And don’t even get me started on education.

Now I could go on and on venting about all that is wrong in the world but that would be wrong in and of itself because it does not do anything to constructively fix any of it.

So instead, in my longing for peace in our world, I asked myself what do we need to do so that we humans can be at peace with ourselves as well as with the world.

I think we need to foster 7 things in ourselves to see change take place in our world: Truth, Repentance, Resolve, Gratitude, Mortality, and Remembrance.

I expressed my thoughts with this short video.  I hope it will make a difference.

If you like it, please share it with your network of friends.  Maybe, just maybe it can affect a change.

Enjoy and as always, Peace!

I will have more to say about this moon in the days to come.  It was an amazing sight to see this moon.  Not the youngest I have seen but certainly one of the thinest.  It marks the beginning of the third month in the Islamic Calendar, Rabi Al-Awwal and is also the month in which the Prophet Muhammad, peace be upon him, was born.  This year it also coincided with the beginning of the Chinese New Year.

Rabi Al-Awwal 1432

So Rabi Al-Awwal Mubarak to all my Muslim readers and Happy Chinese New Year to all my Asian readers.  It is a good time.

Peace.

In 1945 on this day in a small mountain village in Syria a little girl as born late at night. Little did anyone know that her soul would have repercussions almost half way around the world for longer than her life would even allow.

She was the second born of five siblings and her mother died when she was only 9 years old. Her mother left my mother to care for her younger brother, two youngest sisters and her father. That ended her ability to any education while she spent her days learning how to cook and maintain her family’s home. At about the same time a few villages away a young man prepares to leave for America. The son of an immigrant who first immigrated to the United States in the late 1800′s and worked for Ford Corporation on the Model T, the Columbus Cast Iron Stove Company and running his own shoe repair shop and becoming a naturalized citizen before finally returning to Syria to get married and have 9 of his own children. This young man came to America as on a U.S. Passport as he and all his siblings were registered as American citizens at birth by their father.

Ten years later he returns to Syria successful with his own landscaping business to find that little 9 year old girl is now a beautiful young woman and asks for her hand in marriage. They were married and he returns to the States to prepare for her arrival. A few months later she is on her way as well, not knowing how to read or write or speak any language other than Arabic. She boards a flight for Paris France that is delayed and so she misses her connecting flight for the U.S.. The airline puts her up for the night in a hotel but forgets to get her in the morning and so she has to wait another day. All the while she is frightened and does not know who to talk to nor could she even if she could. The next morning the airline representative that comes to get her just happened to be a Lebanese man who speaks to her and finds out she hasn’t eaten anything in two days. Before she boards the plane this gentleman takes her to the hotel restaurant and makes sure she gets a meal she would eat and finally puts her on her flight.

Once in the United States, my father gathers her up at LAX and they make their way to a small rented home in North Hollywood. A year later I was born.

She brought with her an old world tradition of cooking everything from scratch and growing your own food on your own land. My two parents did just that.

My Father, God rest his soul, passed away in a work related accident when I was 11 years old. My mother took his death very hard and almost did not make it but after a year my mother and two brothers were back on our own. She raised three boys single handed and through it all managed to keep us in line free from all the troubles that three boys could get into.

My mother was a generous soul and found solace in cooking and feeding people. Never did family or friends visit that they did not leave our home with either home grown fruit or vegetables or some home cooked food in their arms. She was most famous for her Syrian Bread. If we had the wherewithal we should have opened for her a bakery, but nonetheless, the legend of her hearty bread still lives on in my family. My mother, God rest her soul, passed away in 2003 after battling ovarian cancer for 3 years. Her passing broke our family’s heart. She was the healthiest living person we knew, it boggles our minds to this day how this evil disease found its way into her.

On this day, in honor of my mother’s birthday I pulled out her secrete bread recipe and did my best to replicate her famous bread. I was about 90% successful.  Although it tasted the same I think I was a little short on water as the dough did not have the same pliable texture that she showed me when she taught me how to make it.

My Hand at Mom's Bread

As the bread’s aroma filled the house my kids came streaming into the kitchen recalling their grandmother’s kitchen.  So for the love of my dear mother, who saved my soul in ways that I cannot even express, this post and the bread that I made today goes out to her.  I love you Mom!

To all my readers, honor your mother today, if she is still alive or has parted from this world, honor her.  She has done more for you than you can possibly imagine.

Peace.

Last night a celestial event occurred in our sky that has not happened in 372 years.  The Earth eclipsed the full moon on the winter solstice and for those fortunate enough to be in an area in North America with clear skies they saw a truly amazing and awe inspiring sight.

In Earth's Shroud

While there are some that feel that certain astronomical events have an influence on the behavior of humanity and other natural events, as a man of science I must say that such a belief is a bit incredulous as proof is hard to establish.  While at the same time, as a man of faith, belief in the dominion of the Creator over all of creation is central in my understanding of how the universe exists, how it is sustained and how it behaves.

In a sacred tradition of the Prophet Muhammad (peace and blessing of God be upon him) said one morning after the dawn prayer that occurred after a rainy night, turned to the congregation and said “Do you know what your Lord has revealed?” The people replied, “God and His Apostle know better.” He said, “God has said, ‘In this morning some of my slaves remained as true believers and some became non-believers; whoever said that the rain was due to the Blessings and the Mercy of God had belief in Me and he disbelieves in the stars, and whoever said that it rained because of a particular star had no belief in Me but believes in that star.’ “

A passage in the Qur’an describes the motion of the sun and the moon and through implicit understanding so too the Earth and all visible objects in the heavens.  Each of these celestial bodies follow and obey what we in science refer to as physical laws which we understand and know how they dictate the motions of the heavenly bodies.  However, those of us who go beyond science and have some knowledge of the Knower understand that these laws are not merely physical, but Divine.

When I see an event like an eclipse, my heart is in awe of the power of the Incomparable for not only setting such beauty into place but sustaining it as well.  The skill to capture it and present it to others is a gift that I am aware of and grateful to posses.  I have searched the web today for photos of last night’s eclipse and while there some nice images, I did not find one that moved me in the same way as seeing it in person.  I hope what I have presented above will do that for some.  Enjoy.

Peace.

Last month while in the Yosemite Valley photographing the autumn color I had an opportunity to eat at the Yosemite Lodge Food Court. In years past the food was just shy of being unbearable. However this year there was something different about the food, it was actually good. The cooks are now sensitive to what the patron wants and I am sure almost everyone’s taste and diet could probably be accommodated.

On my first morning there for breakfast I had a bowl of oatmeal. Nothing so fancy about oatmeal, in fact it is a very bland food. I have been eating oatmeal for breakfast at home for years. In my oatmeal, once cooked, I add a pat of raw cultured butter, a little salt, a handful of fresh or frozen blueberries, a little raw whole milk mix it all in and then top it off with a little real maple syrup. The aroma is always pleasing and one bowl very satisfying and gives me the energy I need for at least 6 hours. I thought my oatmeal was good until that first breakfast at the food court this year.

The oatmeal I was eating that morning was different, it had texture and consistency and more importantly it had some bite to it. I started to wonder why my oatmeal at home was not like this. My oatmeal, although loaded with all wholesome toppings, left me somewhat unsatisfied. I then realized that the problem was in the oatmeal itself. For years I had resorted to using instant or quick cook oatmeal, you know, the just add hot water kind of oatmeal. The resulting oatmeal was thin and almost paste like. Chewing it was optional and eating it took nearly no time at all. So when I returned this year from Yosemite I purchased regular rolled oats and proceeded to make better oatmeal.

It turns out that you only need three ingredients to make great oatmeal, well actually four. Rolled oats, water, salt and time. The recipe is simple: 1 and 1/2 cups of water brought to a boil, 1/8 of a teaspoon of salt, and 1 cup of rolled oats. Add the oats to the boiling water and bring the oats to a boil and reduce the heat to low. Continue to stir until the water is absorbed and cooked away to give the consistency desired. Now my oatmeal has that bite that I so enjoyed that morning in Yosemite and now my oatmeal is not only good, its great!

So the other day I was thinking about how I make my oatmeal now. My process is no longer automatic. I no longer rely on the manufactured quickness of my instant oatmeal packs. I use three simple ingredients, oats, water and salt, and then give it some time. It then hit me that photography is really nothing more than three simple parameters as well and a little time: aperture, shutter, and film or sensor sensitivity. The automatic cameras of today take all those three basic parameters out of your hands and give you quick instant photos that are good, but are they great?

What if you reclaimed control of your camera and decided for yourself what the aperture, shutter and ISO sensitivity should be for your photography? What if you slowed down long enough to determine how much light was available so that you could determine how long to leave that shutter open and render the desired density of light on your film or sensor to your liking. What if you examined the scene sufficiently so that you could determine how much texture and how much creaminess resulted in your photo by choosing the aperture properly. What if you had the final decision as to how sensitive the sensor or film is so that you could control the graininess of your imagery. Do you think your photos would move from being good to being great? I do. I would like you too as well. Give it a try, you have nothing to lose, literally. And if you need some help in doing that, let me know.

The Stage

Last week on Veteran’s Day I was not scheduled to teach anywhere as most schools close for that day.  I waited patiently as I watched my online schedule for any last minute additions.  When 6 pm rolled around and nothing showed up, I made a snap decision to return to Yosemite Valley to catch the last bit of autumn color in the Valley.

I gather up my entourage of four kids and packed up a day lunch, water and some warm clothing and we hit the road.  Four hours later we found our selves playing in the remnant snow at 6000 feet elevation around Crane Flat from the storm that passed through a few days earlier.  Once the fingers on my children’s hands had sufficiently numbed we continued on our way dropping down in to the Valley.  All four were now very excited to be in the mountains once again.  As we rounded the bend on Highway 120 leading down to the first view of El Capitan and Half Dome, my youngest son suddenly exclaims, “I have found my dream girl!” With astonishment the rest of the kids look at him in wonderment asking what in the world he is talking about.  I had an inkling about what he meant and then he clarified his statement to the rest confirming my thoughts.

He said “the Earth is a girl right?  We do call her Mother Earth.  She is beautiful. She never complains.  She feeds us and gives us to drink.  And she is always ready to accept us when we want to play.  She is my dream girl”

Well my son, mine too…mine too.

Dream Girl

Wish You Were Here

The first full day of photography has come to a close.  After 12 hours in the field we can finally take some rest.  It rained on us, the wind blew a bit, and the sun even shined on us a few times.  Through it all we kept the shutters blazing and the film burning and pixels popping, we could not have asked for better conditions.

Tunnel View Morning

The rain that fell today was not substantial, more actually fell over night and we awoke to a wonderland of saturated color.  The day started out somewhat dull at Tunnel View, and when we arrived about half an hour before sunrise there were few people there.  Within three or four clicks of our shutters, suddenly the place was overrun by nearly 50, yes 50 photographers!  It was getting a bit crowded and since the sun had risen and the light difficult to capture, we decided to move on to the color before everyone else did.  That was a good move.

Color!

We worked here until our stomachs said “feed me” so we took a break to power up and then we continued on our search for color which took us into the Ansel Adams gallery first.  There we looked at some amazing photography from Ansel Adams as well as some stunning work by others, the most impressive of which came from photographer Charles Cramer.

We then made our move into the El Capitan Meadow where the sun played hide and seek with us and won, as we could catch its rays to our satisfaction.

Moving on we found ourselves working along the Merced River where we not only found some amazing color among the Dogwoods, but they were showered in the sweetest warm light that just rendered the trees into something that I can only describe as delectable.

Sugar Coated for your Eyes

We worked there until we could no longer see through the camera viewfinder and headed back into the valley.  As we approached our lodge, we saw the slightest hint of twilight still dancing in among the the clouds and decided it was worth the effort to make one more photo.  I am glad we did.  The camera can sometimes see much better than we can.

Last Dance

So for another night, I bid you good night and Wish You Were Here!

Peace.

The Gates to Happy

Finally here again after two years.  Yosemite Valley has to be the happiest palce on Earth.  As soon as you drop into the valley and move past the Merced River and over Pohono Bridge the colors of autumn in the valley enthrall your eyes. Then as you meander along the gentle road passing through big leaf maple groves and sugar pine the grandeur of the largest monolithic piece of granite in the world greets you and your heart skips a beat in the shadow of its greatness before it settles into a state of tranquility certain in the fact that you are now home.

I will be posting each evening over the next few nights on what I find here this time around.  Stay tuned, the happy can only get better!