One pitfall I try to avoid in photography is believing that interesting subject matter will always yield an interesting shot.
I often struggle both in the shooting and editing processes, wishing I could capture the composition differently – at a different angle, in better light.
This shot may be a case of an ‘almost.’ I can only hope he rolls up again.
Last week would have been the 106th birthday of my Great Uncle Ben. An active New Yorker, Ben was always one to keep up with current events. He was big on email and I could always tell when a message was from him because it was in ALL CAPS.
Some words seem better suited for all caps – HURRICANE, for example.
The same could be said for some photographs. Nan Goldin’s self portrait, Nan one month after being battered, 1984, comes to mind, conveying an urgency that surpasses the standard convention.
Perhaps nowhere else are regional differences more apparent than when looking for a place to live. . .
Thanks for keeping it weird, kids.
Summer at the Pier, Seattle, WA
During weeks like this where there’s a lot on my plate, not enough hours in the day, and fatigue sets in, my camera rarely leaves my bag. I shoot less. I spend less time looking at art. I pursue fewer opportunities.
And I’m reminded of this article from The Onion: “Find The Thing You’re Most Passionate About, Then Do It On Nights And Weekends For The Rest Of Your Life.”
A gentle reminder to suck it up.
I’ve spent a lot of time recently in other people’s spaces.
(to clarify, I’ve been house hunting, not breaking and entering)
Though the homeowners may not have been present, much of them was reflected in their surroundings.
And have been enjoying seeing intimate portraits of familiar strangers.
A match made in Portland. . .
I am a fan of photographer Elliott Erwitt’s photograph Dogs Legs.
The photograph was taken in New York City in 1974, and it has always felt like New York to me. Though there may be limited information in the frame, what is there is enough to paint a larger picture, or to encourage your mind to fill in the rest.
This weekend in Portland, I attended a parade. And realized – in a city that celebrates being weird, it can be hard to tell the everyday characters from the clowns.
A follow up to my December 29th post. . .