I’ve taken 14,086 pictures with my camera since I purchased it nine years ago, and I’ve found something wrong with every single one. I do not have the brain that goes “oooh I love that one that I took… let’s blow it up!” I have the brain that goes “I wish the light had been from the right instead of the left” or “I wish I had shot higher resolution” or “the dust on the sensor is really noticeable there” or “that flower is past its prime”. This type of analysis is exhausting and difficult to shut off. Take that brain and have it paint a room and you produce a very dissatisfied person at the end of the project: seeing only the flaws and, for whatever reason, lamenting the inexpert hand that produced them. I do not know why I expect perfection when I am beginning to learn these things.
The left picture was printed five years ago by Hand & Eye letterpress in wood and metal type in a run of 80 prints. It is a rather odd size, and necessitated a custom mat. This is the first we have gotten to hang it up, because it sat rolled up in tissue paper in its mailing tube for years while I waited to get it professionally matted. Eventually, we decided that I should simply cut the mat myself and we would make do with this Ikea frame for the time being. Mykala’s efforts got this to finally see the light of day, for which I am very thankful. It is not perfect, but it turned out nicely for a first crack, and I’ll take it for now. I tend to just stand in front of the wall and stare at it, because I like the way it turned out.
This is a panoramic picture stitched from ten photographs, all depicting Millenium Park in Chicago on the evening of May 27, 2012. Mykala and I walked down from our hotel through the muggy air to sit on the pristine grass and listen to some great music. The night was perfect: the setting sun, the still air, little ones running around on the grass, couples eating picnic dinners on foot-high tables. I’m told the performers were the “Northwestern University Chorus and Symphony Orchestra with the Bournemouth Symphony Chorus” — and they were great. The material, however, was not good. Very dissonant, difficult material about 9/11, former president Bush, etc. Not exactly what you expect to hear for symphony music in a park. The piece was Richard Blackford’s oratorio Not in Our Time. I would not recommend it. I would recommend Millenium Park.
Congratulations, John & Kellie. You’ll enjoy many many more autumns together. Plus, I won’t be (in the name of photography) telling Mykala to use a giant 3-foot diameter silvered reflector to shine way-too-bright sun directly into your eyes. Yes, here’s to many autumns without retina damage.
Mr. Yoder’s initiation to his new subject was
unceremonious. He showed up with a few cameras, and,
standing in the middle of the fray backstage at his first
show, suddenly realized he was in a room full of mostly
naked women. He panicked, thinking that he was in a lot
of trouble.
Imagination is powerful. When it’s far below zero and the sun hasn’t yet risen, as I’m riding the bus to a day of underground lectures, I close my eyes and imagine I’m somewhere else.
Today marks my first day of dental school classes, a day that I am sure will be indelibly imprinted on my memory for the rest of my life. I’ve been prepping for today for the past 5 years and suddenly, as if from nowhere… here I am. In anticipation of The First Day, I have worked on:
Last night, I finally finished writing a script to automatically resize images. That way, if I see a picture on the internet that I like, there are very few steps between viewing and putting it on tumbledry — this is nice because the hassle of processing random online images has kept me from posting many. As an example, take a look at this wonderful picture by David Iliff of Canary Wharf in London:
A while back, if memory serves, my Dad told me a story about love. It was understated in the way that true stories tend to be, and of course the details elude my fuddled memory, but the idea of it always stuck in my head. Something like this: my Dad said that the closest he ever came to seeing love at first sight was in college, orientation, I believe. Two people locked eyes and right then, in that moment, the spark of attraction ignited their love. As far as we know, they were together after that.
I had one chance to do this shot — I had to diffuse the flash and guess the exposure. Turned out about as creepy as it appeared in real life; it was a tour de force in whatever limited photo skills I possess.
I jotted down some of my recollections of the art and architecture of Barcelona when I posted more European pictures today. You may find my pictures and captions of some of the incredible innovations of Antoni Gaudí to be interesting.
I’m still working on editing down those European trip pictures. I am unbelievably busy taking care of dental school and other things, but I’m sure I will get these things posted.
A featured picture on PhotoshopDisasters shows a provocatively posed model in the magazine Maxim. But what’s this? The picture has been retouched? Shocking! The repeating nature of the background of the image clearly reveals where the retoucher tucked in the sides of the model, enlarged her breasts, or both. The glaring hack job is comical on first sight.
I am a location scout & location manager for television
commercials, music video & still photography, feature
films, episodic TV, etc - working primarily in the new york
area for the last 14 years or so
