Dear Autumn, 
      You are finally here. I can feel that familiar zing in the air, you know the one. No other time of the year feels quite like this, and I am in love. I look forward to you with a mixture of exhilaration and trepidation. The heat is subsiding, the air is clearing, the humidity is ending and everything suddenly seems fresh. Out with the greens and in with the golds, reds, ruddy browns. But...ah, there is always a but... But there it is, lurking around the corner…dare I say it? Winter. Absolutely my least favorite season (please don't read that part, dad). The dangerous driving, the bitter cold, the muddy slush that covers everything including my kitchen floor, forcing me to get on hands and knees and scrub it from the tile on a near daily basis. *breathe*
      But (again, although this time to get us back on track), I vow to enjoy you while I have you. And boy do you bring in the changes. It is so glorious to be in the garden in the summer, everything green and buzzing and growing. But as with all things, change must happen. And I think that's why I love your arrival each year. Change brings new experiences, and begins a path to that wonderful enjoyment when the landscape changes, goes white, and then sleeps for such a long time, only to be discovered again in a gasp - is that a bud!! - but....I digress and am several months ahead of myself. 
    But (are you noticing a trend) there are things that I am not ahead of this season. And that is my Thanksgiving. One of the most joyful days of Autumn. And I have oh so much to be thankful for. Our jobs, in this day where no job is a guarantee or an entitlement. My camera, which I have yet to break (except that one time, almost...don't think about it). My wonderful, loving husband, who makes me be my true self and makes me see the calm in that. My God, for keeping my house warm and my pantry full and my vehicle safely on the road, and for bringing back a friendship that I thought was lost to me (and to see the change in her, in her willingness to show her own true self, that is definitely a work of yours). And to my father, who as always, is there to guide me and champion me, and who knows just what to say and just when to call.
    I am a lucky and loved girl. And I am ready to face all the changes that may be coming, camera in hand.  Happy Thanksgiving to everyone and I wish for you to be as equally blessed.

Enjoy! A.

I have been a little concerned about this.
I recently broke my 28-80 when my tripod tipped over and the camera landed lens first onto the cement. It took me a few moments of staring openmouthed in disbelief before I picked it up and, wincing, brought the camera to my eye and checked for damage. It was instantly obvious that my lens was shot. The rings wouldn't turn without grinding and the mirrors were definitely skewed. Then came the next wave of panic as it hit me that the camera itself could be jammed. Time to triage. Turn off? Check. Turn on? Oh thank goodness. Apertures recognized? Check. Flash engaged? Looking good. Ok, I think I can start to breathe again. So very gently, I removed the lens and put on the only other lens I have now, the Tamron 75-300 telephoto (aka the one that I had no idea how to put to proper use) and took a couple shots. Everything functioned as it should, praise the Lord and pass the flashbulb! 

But then came the next task: learning to use such a large, prime lens. After I got over my resentment at being stuck with just one lens, and just this lens, because I just had to look away when the wind picked up even though I knew I had that tripod at an odd angle... *breathe*
And you know what? It turned out to be one of the best things I could have done. I had been feeling very frustrated with my lens and wasn't able to get the shots I was going after with the clarity that I was aming for, but I hadn't tried the telephoto because it was brought everything so close and it was so.. different than what I was used to. But when I gave up and just learned what the lens could do, I was amazed. The images were clear, the focus was tack sharp, and I began to really appreciate working with a prime. It makes you really get into your shot and I learned how to keep my camera stable while moving very slightly to find my focus. And for action shots? Don't even get me started!

So when I came across the 35mm, I was excited and concerned at the same time. I mean, it's great to have more than one lens to play with because lets face it, you can't take a standard landscape with a telephoto. And sometimes when I'm shooting candids I just want to get exactly what I'm looking at, not a shorter version. But man, my photos really did improve without the standard zoom. So I did what any apprentice should do; called my dad. And he reminded me that my photos are getting better because I am getting better. And that a lens is a lens and it only works when the photographer directs it. And of course, he's right. So I'll go unpack this new lens with excitement and we'll see what I can do with it.

I go through stages. There are lengths of time, months really, where I barely let my camera out of my sight. And then, nothing. Days, weeks, go by and barely a photograph. Especially in winter when I want to just shut myself into my warm house and curl up with a blanket, a cup of tea and a book.

So I've been tossing up a couple of ideas to make sure I keep shooting during the times when creativity seems to be at a premium and I have decided to start a 365 project. The idea like all others, is that I have to take at least one photograph each day for a year. Now, during the times when I'm a diligent little photographer that wont be too difficult. In fact the only difficult thing I can forsee is picking only one to represent the day. But in my lean times (aka: winter) it will make me stretch and see what I can find. 

If this kicks off well, and since most of the time I really do apply myself I wondered if I should kick it up a notch. I was listening to NPR in '08 December and they did a piece on 2 guys who were given a challenge by their professor. The idea was to take a photograph at the same time each day, at 7:15pm. From the moment I heard about it, it struck a chord with me. It's a fantastic challenge: pick a time and make something out of whatever it is that you are doing right then. Finding something photographic and inspiring in any setting that you may find yourself in. It's a tough project and would require concious effort but I think that at the end of the year it would be an awesome collage to review, don't you?

Now, since it is so involving and since, if left to my own devices I may struggle to just keep the 365 project running, I wont start that just yet. But if any of you read this and enjoy taking photographs yourselves, let me know. If we get a little group together then maybe this will turn into something to run with. And who knows what you will get at the end of a year?

Just a quick post to let you guys know that I am still here and still checking in. I have been very busy with my photographs and I am starting to see some true progress. I also went on a little ebay shopping spree and picked up a copy of Adobe Photoshop Elements 7 and a 35-105mm lens to replace the one that I broke. I have been wanting Photoshop for a while but I'm just not sure I can justify the cost, so I'm starting with Elements. This way, if I don't use it much I wasn't out hundreds of dollars. And, if I do, I can better justify those hundreds to my wonderful husband.  :)  

I am not a hoarder. My no-negotiations technique for keeping anything in the house is pretty strict. If I don't touch it for 6 months I don't need it (unless it holds very sentimental or legal value), and out it goes. So why is it that things are so radically different when it comes to sorting out photographs? Like the world will be lesser if I throw out that slightly blurry photo of the 'little pond I passed one day when I was in a rush'. Know what I mean?

I think that it started when I was first learning the ropes of photography. I just KNEW that this photo, this one right here, was the best thing I would EVER take. EVER. And so they went into the keep pile. Every mediocre one of them.

But now, a few years later, I'm realizing two things. First, the computer only holds so much data. And second, I will get better and will recognize a good shot when I get one.
...but I'd be lying if I didn't admit that this epiphany came about mostly because of the first reason.

So I am making changes. I got a Flickr Pro account to house my photographs (I told you the first one was the kicker). But, as I hand my photos over to the Infinite Storage Gods, I am going over each one and cutting the blurred, the skewed, and the oh-so-close-but-not-quite. I'm also waxing nostalgic, but that's another story altogether. And I have to say, it is a little liberating in it's small way. While deleting folder after folder I am realizing that, yes I AM becoming a better photographer, and that I have to have the courage to delete what I don't need with the hope that I will recreate it if I need to. This is art after all; and isn't the need for creating new ideas supposed to be a source of inspiration?

Enjoy! A.

And that's what I am sticking to so that I can show you what I found on YouTube. I happen to be a fan of Oren Lavie, but this is not meant for you to do anything other than watch this video. I think that you will enjoy it! 

When I saw it I knew that I had to share it here. This strikes a chord with me as I have been in a rut with my art for a while. Since March to be exact, when I lost my friend. Before you are worried, we are both healthy; she was not lost to death but to other, more mundane occurences. Although I have learned that each has it's mourning period, and it is a lonely thing, to remove someone from your life.

She and I were friends since we were children, and pretty much inseparable for our school and college years. I think I lived in her house as much as I lived in mine. I loved her as I loved myself, and I still do, but as we grow older there are things that we can accept and things that we cannot. And I had to make my choice.

She and I used to create art together, sharing ideas and thoughts, weaving them together until you couldn't really tell what was hers and what was mine. So this has been a process for me, to recreate my own ability. It's not that I ever lost it, but when someone is so involved in the very process of your art and your creativity, it feels almost impossible to begin again. But I am. Albeit slowly.

And I don't put this out there for any other reason than to show someone who is going through the same thing that it does pass. It doesn't leave but it does ease, and that is something that you can live with.
 
This video reminds me that anything can be art, and it can come from anywhere. And now that Autumn is just around the corner, I have a lot to prepare!!

Maybe not recent. Not really even unique. Every year, around this time, I become fascinated with clouds. It's one of the great perks of New England; we get strange weather patterns, but terrific clouds.

To me, there is really nothing that says gorgeous weather like fluffy white clouds, and lately we've been blessed with so many days full of them. They look like they belong in a painting. And I can't stop shooting them.

This year, though, it's a little more specific. I have been drawn to study clouds with little bits of things hidden in the corners. Like the branches of a tree peeking in the side of an otherwise perfect cloud photo, almost as if it happened at the last moment. It just seems playful, and I think it speaks to me partly because, well, it's just plain pretty. But also because there is something simple and joyful about a steeple or tree branch reaching into a bright blue sky with velvety clouds that are golden-white.

Lately it has come to remind me that even though I choose to work and live at a rushed pace, there are other, gentler ways to live. And that, and I say this hesitantly, it may not be so necessary to run past each day with such determination.

But maybe they're just clouds. And maybe, it's just a tree that I've put into a photograph. But maybe...