This is the reaction from an average individual first seeing this ego trip of a website. Let us, please, stop the captions that read like the Book of Knowledge. As Harvey Weber said the pictures should carry it, not hundreds of words of bullshit.
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
Picture
Dick Yarwood
This is the reaction from an average individual first seeing this ego trip of a website. Let us, please, stop the captions that read like the Book of Knowledge. As Harvey Weber said the pictures should carry it, not hundreds of words of bullshit.
This is the reaction from an average individual first seeing this ego trip of a website. Let us, please, stop the captions that read like the Book of Knowledge. As Harvey Weber said the pictures should carry it, not hundreds of words of bullshit.
Tuesday, January 30, 2007
Paint
Karen Stabile
This reminds me that I gotto paint my kitchen......... probably a nice mellow yellow .
This reminds me that I gotto paint my kitchen......... probably a nice mellow yellow .
Sunday, January 28, 2007
GEOMETRY
Audrey C. Tiernan 
Mathematics was never my favorite subject in school, frankly I wasn’t very good in it. But I liked geometry and I have always found myself trying to incorporate shapes and angles into my photographs. I don't know exactly why, except that I like to try to add dimension to my two dimensional canvas. I was in lower Manhattan one day with my nephew and we walked through an old building that had once housed the first children's courthouse in the country. Built in 1902 in the Classical Revival style it was a fascinating structure. When I looked up I was struck by all the lines and angles in the ceiling and the juxtaposition of the sphere shaped light fixture. I just had to take this picture. As a child I recall that I always had trouble coloring within the lines of my coloring book. Maybe that is why I am fascinated by them in photographs. I don't see lines as boundaries that impose limits, rather I seem them as infinite with countless possibilities. I like to see where the lines take me and where my camera takes me too. So far, there have been lots of turns in the road and it has been an amazing journey!
Aud
Mathematics was never my favorite subject in school, frankly I wasn’t very good in it. But I liked geometry and I have always found myself trying to incorporate shapes and angles into my photographs. I don't know exactly why, except that I like to try to add dimension to my two dimensional canvas. I was in lower Manhattan one day with my nephew and we walked through an old building that had once housed the first children's courthouse in the country. Built in 1902 in the Classical Revival style it was a fascinating structure. When I looked up I was struck by all the lines and angles in the ceiling and the juxtaposition of the sphere shaped light fixture. I just had to take this picture. As a child I recall that I always had trouble coloring within the lines of my coloring book. Maybe that is why I am fascinated by them in photographs. I don't see lines as boundaries that impose limits, rather I seem them as infinite with countless possibilities. I like to see where the lines take me and where my camera takes me too. So far, there have been lots of turns in the road and it has been an amazing journey!
Aud
Southard's Pond
Jim Peppler
"Southard's Pond #11". from a series of photos for a visual journal of a walk thru Southard's Pond Park in Babylon that I made for a friend. I find the camera a fine tool for connecting to the living reality of LIFE as I experience it; my faith and belief is that each moment is infinitely rich in information, inspiration and "Beauty" (as in the richest affirmation of creation) the challenge is to surender to the seeing and appreciating. This "moment" in a reflection mesmerized me with the complexity and depth of its patterning elements. I was doing the image journaling walk as a dayoff exercise to share my appreciation of the spot with a friend I was trying to provoke into visiting Long Island; but I confess that two days later I went back to seeing howmuch could be "recreated" for a NEWSDAY "floater" - as it turned out several "moments" such as this were still there with different nuances, and several others were very different and in several cases "better" (in that I saw more of their beauty).
"Southard's Pond #11". from a series of photos for a visual journal of a walk thru Southard's Pond Park in Babylon that I made for a friend. I find the camera a fine tool for connecting to the living reality of LIFE as I experience it; my faith and belief is that each moment is infinitely rich in information, inspiration and "Beauty" (as in the richest affirmation of creation) the challenge is to surender to the seeing and appreciating. This "moment" in a reflection mesmerized me with the complexity and depth of its patterning elements. I was doing the image journaling walk as a dayoff exercise to share my appreciation of the spot with a friend I was trying to provoke into visiting Long Island; but I confess that two days later I went back to seeing howmuch could be "recreated" for a NEWSDAY "floater" - as it turned out several "moments" such as this were still there with different nuances, and several others were very different and in several cases "better" (in that I saw more of their beauty).
Healing Springs
Julia Gaines
In the last two years, my research of my family roots has reaped many discoveries, two of which are included in this photograph taken in October of 2006: Kelley, a cousin I didn't know I had, and Healing Springs near Blackville, South Carolina, a place I'd never heard of. The springs, the story goes, were bought from the Edisto Indians in the 1750's by our ancestor Nathaniel Walker, paid with an unknown quantity of maize. The Indians, who may have only understood that they were allowing Walker to use the springs, believed the waters had the power to heal and the earth and its treasures could not be owned by man. The Edistos eventually disappeared from the area and the springs changed ownership many times until Lute Boylston in 1944, agreeing that the springs should be available to all, "deeded the property to God." When I visited this spot, people with carloads of plastic bottles were constantly driving into the small, parklike area. They'd fill their bottles from the free-flowing pipes installed there, often saying a prayer as they did so. My cousin Kelley filled her own water bottle and then cooled off under one of the pipes.
In the last two years, my research of my family roots has reaped many discoveries, two of which are included in this photograph taken in October of 2006: Kelley, a cousin I didn't know I had, and Healing Springs near Blackville, South Carolina, a place I'd never heard of. The springs, the story goes, were bought from the Edisto Indians in the 1750's by our ancestor Nathaniel Walker, paid with an unknown quantity of maize. The Indians, who may have only understood that they were allowing Walker to use the springs, believed the waters had the power to heal and the earth and its treasures could not be owned by man. The Edistos eventually disappeared from the area and the springs changed ownership many times until Lute Boylston in 1944, agreeing that the springs should be available to all, "deeded the property to God." When I visited this spot, people with carloads of plastic bottles were constantly driving into the small, parklike area. They'd fill their bottles from the free-flowing pipes installed there, often saying a prayer as they did so. My cousin Kelley filled her own water bottle and then cooled off under one of the pipes.
Friday, January 26, 2007
The Last Picture Show
Ken Spencer
"If you see anything you want to stop and photograph, just holler," said my friend Ginger as she and Ron were driving me around their hometown of San Angelo, Texas. I thought they might live to regret their offer. I was on my way to a conference at McDonald Observatory in Fort Davis, Texas, and had stopped to visit with Ginger and Ron for several days while en route to Fort Davis. San Angelo is a medium- sized town in west Texas, and at first glance, my eyes told me there would be photographs everywhere. We began our day in a coffee shop in an old hotel, with several ranchers in Stetsons and jeans at the next table. I always enjoy listening to conversations for the differences in accent and speech. The grouping of three ranchers was not quite enough of a photograph for me to disturb their breakfast, so I let the moment pass, but it was enough to drink in the scene and listen to the conversation. After breakfast there was the interior of the old hotel to photograph, and the old hardware store, some primitive paintings on the sides of some downtown buildings, the bail bondsman's Cadillac with horns fastened to the hood, the pickup in the parking lot of a building painted like the Texas flag, the brilliant corrugated-steel Palmer Feed Mill reflecting sunlight against the clear blue Texas sky and the International Water Lilly Garden (more on that in another blog). I was burning up more space on my CF cards than I would have in several days shooting at work! Hey, this is what vacations are for, right? I find that I am absolutely energized by the thought of a new landscape to discover, and San Angelo was no exception. We continued driving around town and the outlying areas that first day, and I would guess that I had them stopping anywere between 1 or 2 blocks, or 4 or 5 miles! They were very gracious, given that they had this madman with a camera in their car. It was late in the day when we headed back into town, just before sunset. We were driving along Chadbourne Street and there it was! An extra wide street, nearly deserted, with some Texas style buildings with the overhanging roofs lit by the setting sun. "STOP!" I hollered, but I needn't have, because they had already noticed the scene and by now knew that it would be my type of photograph. Fortunately, this was not like Ansel Adams' experience with "Moonrise, Hernandez" where the sunlight went off the crosses after he shot the first piece of film. In my case the sun remained above the horizon for perhaps 10 or 15 minutes and I could spend plenty of time trying different compositions. This one is my favorite. I call it "The Last Picture Show," which it's not, but it reminds me of the theatre in the movie of the same name. These buildings are not deserted, they are actually in use as an office and a cabinetmaker's shop. Quite an end to my first day in Texas.
Ken Spencer
"If you see anything you want to stop and photograph, just holler," said my friend Ginger as she and Ron were driving me around their hometown of San Angelo, Texas. I thought they might live to regret their offer. I was on my way to a conference at McDonald Observatory in Fort Davis, Texas, and had stopped to visit with Ginger and Ron for several days while en route to Fort Davis. San Angelo is a medium- sized town in west Texas, and at first glance, my eyes told me there would be photographs everywhere. We began our day in a coffee shop in an old hotel, with several ranchers in Stetsons and jeans at the next table. I always enjoy listening to conversations for the differences in accent and speech. The grouping of three ranchers was not quite enough of a photograph for me to disturb their breakfast, so I let the moment pass, but it was enough to drink in the scene and listen to the conversation. After breakfast there was the interior of the old hotel to photograph, and the old hardware store, some primitive paintings on the sides of some downtown buildings, the bail bondsman's Cadillac with horns fastened to the hood, the pickup in the parking lot of a building painted like the Texas flag, the brilliant corrugated-steel Palmer Feed Mill reflecting sunlight against the clear blue Texas sky and the International Water Lilly Garden (more on that in another blog). I was burning up more space on my CF cards than I would have in several days shooting at work! Hey, this is what vacations are for, right? I find that I am absolutely energized by the thought of a new landscape to discover, and San Angelo was no exception. We continued driving around town and the outlying areas that first day, and I would guess that I had them stopping anywere between 1 or 2 blocks, or 4 or 5 miles! They were very gracious, given that they had this madman with a camera in their car. It was late in the day when we headed back into town, just before sunset. We were driving along Chadbourne Street and there it was! An extra wide street, nearly deserted, with some Texas style buildings with the overhanging roofs lit by the setting sun. "STOP!" I hollered, but I needn't have, because they had already noticed the scene and by now knew that it would be my type of photograph. Fortunately, this was not like Ansel Adams' experience with "Moonrise, Hernandez" where the sunlight went off the crosses after he shot the first piece of film. In my case the sun remained above the horizon for perhaps 10 or 15 minutes and I could spend plenty of time trying different compositions. This one is my favorite. I call it "The Last Picture Show," which it's not, but it reminds me of the theatre in the movie of the same name. These buildings are not deserted, they are actually in use as an office and a cabinetmaker's shop. Quite an end to my first day in Texas.
Ken Spencer
Thursday, January 25, 2007
Beginnings
Thomas A. Ferrara
I'm starting this endeavor with an old photograph. Although I made this image seven years ago, it still feels like a beginning to me. It was shot from the stern of the Schooner Roseway, A one hundred and twelve foot, wooden, sailing vessel at anchor in Penobscot Bay, off the coast of Maine. The most beautiful place on earth. The reason why this image feels like a beginning to me is entirely personal. For one week in the early autumn of 2000, my Father and I set sail on board this ship. It was like no other experience I had ever encountered. And it turned out to be the very first of many fantastic journeys I have undertaken with my father in my adult life.
-Fair Winds,
Tom
I'm starting this endeavor with an old photograph. Although I made this image seven years ago, it still feels like a beginning to me. It was shot from the stern of the Schooner Roseway, A one hundred and twelve foot, wooden, sailing vessel at anchor in Penobscot Bay, off the coast of Maine. The most beautiful place on earth. The reason why this image feels like a beginning to me is entirely personal. For one week in the early autumn of 2000, my Father and I set sail on board this ship. It was like no other experience I had ever encountered. And it turned out to be the very first of many fantastic journeys I have undertaken with my father in my adult life.
-Fair Winds,
Tom
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