My month studying John Sexton has ended, and it definitely had its rewards.  In Quiet Light he speaks of being compelled to photograph in that wonderful  light one finds pre-dawn and post-dusk light (the latter Ann and I must make more of an effort to take advantage of, despite the greater number of people that linger around after dark), but also speaks of “listening” to the landscape, and to the image one is developing.  And as Quiet Light explains, listening leads to seeing.  So as I stood there on the shore at Bandon in the pre-dawn light, unsure of what I should photograph, I listened and after a few minutes I saw, and started photographing.  Which leads to another installment of light and water. 

As I went through the images I’d made during our recent trip to the coast I noticed a definite pattern in my method of working.  It falls into a variation of “working the image” that I’d discussed before, so I thought it might be useful to discuss in a post.  Fortunately, there was a clean series of images that made a perfect example of what I was hoping to describe.

Ansel once said, based upon his training as a classical pianist, “Photographers don’t work hard enough!”  Oh, wait, wrong quote.  Yes, he did say that, but what I wanted to say was that he used to describe the making of the negative as the “score” and the print (or these days the developed image on your computer screen) the “performance.”  In my previous blog post, actually written two months ago, I couldn’t figure out why an image didn’t work.  Well, after a short chat with Ann, I found out that the problem wasn’t with the score, it was I had just really bombed the performance.

This is the companion post to, “Why does it work?”  Unfortunately, it’s the other way around.  In my reviewing of previous work from southern Utah in preparation for our trip this fall, I came across an image that has plenty of elements that should make it compelling.  But somehow it falls flat on its face.  The question is why?  One can learn from this type of failure so, as I said in the companion piece, “that has the makings of a great blog post!

It was time to print again this past weekend and for once I decided to print something from our most recent trip!

We woke up early the next morning refreshed from a good, cool, night’s sleep (Gee, it's amazing what a couple thousand feet of elevation can do to cool things off!).  After coffee and a light breakfast, we broke camp and headed down river to continue our exploration into these parts unknown.  What excited me the most was that I was going to get my first glimpse into Hell along our way to the day’s ultimate destination - the Painted Hills!

Since this trip was to be part business, part pleasure, and we wanted to maximize the latter, Ann took a half-day off on Wednesday and we drove like bats out of hell (let’s see how many hell analogies I can use in this series of posts) and drove from home to Spokane, Washington in a single afternoon/evening.  Actually, we stayed in Spokane Valley, but given the distances, Spokane is close enough.

Well, at least not if you’re there first thing in the morning.  

Ann and I just returned from our July adventure and what a trip it was!  Part business, part pleasure, more road trip than photo trip, but with a little bit of everything to keep things lively.  Hotter than hell, and not as hot as we thought it would be, we got to see gracefully sculpted rolling hills created by one of the most destructive events in earth’s history and deeply etched barren landscapes where not one, but two peoples once thrived.  It was an exploration of the unknown (for us at least) and a homecoming before coming home.  Just what an adventure should be!

Last weekend we were back to printing images.  This time I’m going to include the image that we were most focused on - Ann’s photograph of Bryce Canyon!

The other morning I decided to dig through my photographs from Bryce Canyon to see if I had any images that might compare to the one Ann printed in black and white.  Nope.  I did however find an image that I’d forgotten I wanted to work on.  Fortunately I finally have the skills to do it right.

Today’s answer: to find words.

Ann has a saying that she frequently uses with me, only half in jest:  “You have words.  I have no words.”  I would disagree, saying that, while she sometimes hunts for how to say exactly what she’s thinking, she usually gets her point across very well.  However, she’s right.  I tend to be able to rattle off my thoughts without thinking too much about it, and writing, while difficult, isn’t as much of a hurdle since I’ve been doing so much writing as a lawyer.  So, as usual, Ann’s right.  I have words.  Well, that is, until I don’t.

Ann and I decided to take advantage of having the Fourth of July off.  Given that it came on a Wednesday this year, we had to keep our trip short, so after work on Tuesday we headed up to Brice Creek.  It turned into a nice little excursion!

As we approached the Coquille River on the way to Bandon we turned off at Bullards Beach State Park, where we spent Christmas, hoping there would be a vacancy.  As we drove into the park we passed a truck towing an Airstream on its way out.  It was either a good sign (someone just checked out) or a bad sign (someone was hoping to get lucky like us and didn’t).  We drove up to the check in station the ranger there said, “You folks are in luck, that is if you only need a spot for one night.  Two campers just left so you even have a choice of spots!”  We got lucky!

Ann and I needed to get out again (and how) for a June Adventure; the question was, “Where?”  As we thought of different possibilities, one look at the tide charts showed us that we’d see some of the lowest tides we’ve ever encountered so that meant only one place - the coast!  Which brought us back to the same question, “But where?”  As luck would have it, we wound up at a couple of different places under very different conditions - both of them fantastic for photography!