Amenia, New York ©2012 Steven Willard. Click anywhere on the image to enlarge.

   How do you experience Memorial Day? Watching the town parade? Having a family picnic? Perhaps spend the day doing some work around the house or washing the car? Will you remember the reason for this day of remembrance?

   Sadly too many of us have family members who suffered some wound, to body or mind, as a result of serving his/her country. We have friends who will never be the same for their efforts, and far too many of us lost someone completly; except for their memory.

   Wouldn't it be wonderful if there came a time when practically no one could remember the point of Memorial Day; when those who are honored are long dead and their sacrifice softened by the passage of time, when service to one's country no longer meant giving one's life or limb.

Memorial Day was created after the "civil" war to honor those who fought to preserve our nation; a war we fought amongst ourselves. At least now we rarely kill each other over matters of state. If only we could manage to do the same on a global scale; that would be something.

   This weekend take the time to say thanks to a vet, and while your at it thank their family members who sacrifice so much. 

   I went passed this house and had to turn back. Everything is so...American. If you look closely you can just make out someone sitting on the porch. Her brother just started a fifteen month tour in Afghanistan. She didn't want to give her name, but she had no objections to having the house photographed. It seems ironic that I didn't notice that she was in the photograph, just under the flag, until I got it on the computer screen. Too often we overlook the families of those who wear the uniforms. I wished her brother, and her good luck and rode home thinking of them most of the way.

   Pentax K10D, 35mm macro. Processed in Photoshop.

   Listening to:  http://youtu.be/CGeCPv6gw_U

   In an earlier post I mentioned that I'm trying to use my motorcycle in the proccess of scouting and making photographs. A couple of weekends ago I put my camera bag in the top case of the bike and strapped my tripod on the rear seat and set off.

   It was a beautiful day, cool and mostly cloudy, but the clouds were beginning to break up into something more like curds than whey. It made for a high overcast that softened what shadows there were and lent a glow to the landscape.

   I've spent countless days riding around the northwest corner of Connecticut, but even so there are lots of roads I haven't been down so it's still a mine worth working. I had taken a loop around Mudge Pond (yes really) near Lakeville, and was exploring one of the side roads when I came upon this prospect. There are houses within sight, but it is remarkable how few. It is a shock to me sometimes to be reminded how much of Connecticut is still open to such vistas. I'm guessing there are a lot of people who live in Connecticut who are not aware of views like this in their state.

   True to the promise I made to myself, I pulled the bike over and found a level spot off the road and went through the process of removing gloves, helmet and jacket; by this time it was getting warm.

   There was no way I could capture such a sweeping view with conventional methods so I decided to "stitch" together a multiple exposure panorama. This involves taking several exposures, four in this instance, that overlap somewhat, and using Photoshop to combine them into one long photograph. This is a technique I haven't used too often, but it was the perfect solution for this situation.* For the record the resulting image printed at 100% is 8x28 inches and holds detail very well.  This print matted and framed will be about 16x36 inches and should look very nice over a mantle or sofa, or in a well lit hallway.

   The lesson from this day's outting is that I can work from the bike; it just takes more effort and more concentration. I also have to make myself stop.

   Pentax K10D, 35mm macro lens. Four exposures stitched in Photoshop and converted to black and white using Nik Silver Efex Pro 2.

  * I encourage you to try panorama. If you don't have Photoshop there are a number of stand alone programs available. A tripod is not absolutely necessary, at least in daytime shots, but it goes a long way to help ensure good results. Keeping the camera level and consistant from shot to shot makes things a lot easier on the software. There are a host of places on the web that offer good instructions for getting started.

 I recently entered some photographs in the Shoreline Arts Alliance (www.shorelinearts.org.) annual Images Exhibit. While I was filling out the various forms required I had a chance to see some of the work of others; it made me nervous. There was some very good work. I guess I hadn't realized how competitive I was.

   Last year I entered some prints from my American Flag Project*. I already had prints ready for exhibition and I felt it would be a good experience. I thought it might also provide some nearly free exposure for the project. To my surprise and elation I was awarded a First Honours and a much appreciated cash prize. All positives right?

   Here's the thing though; after last year's experience I dared hope (expected is too strong a word) that I had a chance at another prize. Where last year I would have been content to be included in the exhibition, this year I risked disappointment if I didn't win some cash and the bragging rights that went with it, and that's not right.

   You see I don't make photographs for a living; I do it because I love it. But if I don't make photographs for money why should it matter to me if I win a cash prize or not? Sure it helps defray some of my costs and I can show my wife that it's not all a write off, but I don't need the money. Yet all the way home from dropping off the prints I found myself fretting about whether I would win or not and that's so not me. At least I didn't think it was. This really got me to thinking about how to use competition to positive ends, and who the competition is.

   First I suppose it's important to decide if we hold those who judge our work in high regard or not. If not the whole desire to win their approval is moot, but if we do respect their opinions, do we then try to make and submit work to which we think they are sympathetic? Hopefully not. Hopefully we just do our best work based on what we think is important and meaningful. That's not easy. Phrases like "be true to yourself" and "go your own way" sound great, but it's easier to say than do. We all want to be appreciated, but ultimately the person we're trying to please is ourself; money just adds another layer. 

   For the record, one print from the six I submitted was accepted, and no cash prize. It wasn't the print I would have bet on, but it is a lovely print if I do say so. All the prints were from the "Quiet Connecticut" series (see Feb. 24). It's a testament to the quality of this year's show that I feel fortunate to have been selected at all from such good company. Next year I'll try even harder. I think that's a good way to compete.

   Canon G10, proccessed in Photoshop.

   *See tags for the American Flag Project

   I'm going to give it another go. In the past I've had little success using my motorcycle as a mode of transportation when I wanted to go out and make photographs. It just seemed too hard to concentrate properly on riding the bike and look seriously for postential photographs.  It's possible to plan a destination and ride the bike there and work, but to ride around looking for images that one might come across is more difficult.

    The act of riding a motorcycle requires more concentration than driving a car and it's harder to look at the passing scenery while riding a bike. The other issue that is not so obvious is that it is more difficult to find a place to park a bike by the side of the road. The spot needs to be reasonablely level and firm enough to support the the bike on the side stand. Also, you don't just step out of a bike. Once the bike is parked you still need to remove gloves, and helmet and of course they need to be put back on when you are ready to leave. Going through all that means I have to be fairly confident that I'm going to make a photograph.

   Well anyway, I'm trying it again. It takes a surprising amount of concentration to ride safely and to really look for potential images. Then it takes will power (something I'm short on) to stop when the impulse is to keep riding because it is easier.

   The side benifit is that the exercise tends to concentrate the mind and I seem to enjoy riding even more, and I see more even if I don't make any photographs.

   I suppose in some ways it's like life. It's possible to go along only looking at the road ahead; not bothering to look to the right or the left, letting momentum carry us forward, hesitant to stop. It's just easier that way. Maybe safer, too. But how much more interesting to slow downa bit, to look at what's going on around us; it just takes a little more effort.

    Life is a trip, but it's the journey not the destination we should concentrate on.

   Pentax K10D, Kit zoom.

   Listening to: http:   http://youtu.be/U3sMjm9Eloo

   I've had something close to an argument with my mother-in-law about her idea that photographs represent the truth; odd considering how skeptical she is about so many things. When I told her that a print I gave her didn't really look like the scene I had photographed she thought I was kidding her. She is aware that the photographs of movie stars have been "retouched", and she knows that a black and white print is a departure from reality, but she still didn't accept that I would/could give her a print that was a misrepresentation.  I still don't think she quite believes me.

   I tried to tell her that by choosing a very wide angle lens I had purposefully altered the perceived spatial relationships as rendered in the print differently from what was present in the scene. Images of objects that were very near to the camera are seen as much larger relative to objects farther back. The reason is too involved for this blog, and you don't need to know the science to use the effect, but you can read about it on the internet.

   What I was trying to get across to her was that the selection of lens, has an effect on the image just as shutter speed, f-stop, and a host of other factors, and it is the photographer (artist if you will) who determines how the image represents the scene before the camera. That representation can be fairly transparent (realistic), or it can deviate substantially through manipulation of the image by choice. This is all before the image ever gets to the computer where it can be further altered; aside from rendering the image in color, realistic or not, or black and white.

   I have no compunction about altering a photograph in order to make a stronger statement, or to come closer to what I felt or saw when I made the photograph. Not to compare myself with an artist, but can anyone suggest that Picasso's painting of The Old Guitarist, 1903 is anything but an expression of what he saw and felt? Lest you think that he had no control over what ended up on the canvas, it is important to understand that he was an excellent draftsman and put on the canvas precisely what he wanted, and changed styles to suit his need.

   There are any number of notions put forth for why Van Gough painted the way he did, but I think he must have worked very hard to put on canvas what he saw; not just with his eyes but with his heart.

   Photography can be an art with a capital A. I don't call myself an artist, but I have learned something about how to put forth what I see and feel, and it doesn't always look just like what was in front of the camera.

   The image of the birch tree seemingly growing out of a well and through the roof of the shed is a representation of what caused me to stop the car; what it looked like at first glance. Besides converting the image to black and white to give the image a more reportorial look, I made some other changes to enhance the illusion. It's closer to what I saw.

    Pentax K10D, kit zoom lens. Post proccessed in Photoshop and Nik Silver efx Pro2.

   Listening to:  http://youtu.be/nkvLq0TYiwI

New Milford, Connecticut ©Steven Willard, 2012

   I suppose if you live someplace long enough you find yourself paying attention to its rhythms; where the sun comes up at a particular time of the year, where the September full moon can best be seen as it rises, when the migrating Canada geese arrive. I also have favorite trees I like to keep my eye on. This year's heavy October snow storm put some of them at risk and I worried that they all made it through with branches intact; mostly they did.

   This weeping cherry tree has been putting on a show every spring for years and I was relieved when it showed no signs of damage. I wait for it and the forsythia to show off and I know Spring is here. Few of us have jobs that tie us to the land and growing things in substantial ways, but I think we all benefit from things that help keep us in sync with nature in some way.

   In spite of all the things we've created there is still a primitave part of us, buried deep, that needs to know what nature is up to, when the berries will be ripe for eating, when it's safe to come out of the cave. Spring is here.

   Pentax K10D, Kit zoom

   Memory and what triggers it is fascinating to me. I may have mentioned that before. Not so much how some people can recall streams of numbers, or recall the names of people they recently met, because while I can't do it, I do believe there is a technique involved that can be learned.

   I'm fascinated by how we store memories for long periods that can then be brought forward by a word or a melody, or perhaps a color or scent. How do we do that?

   I was visiting MOMA and odd as it sounds with all the things to stimulate the senses, what caught my eye was this man wearing pink Crocks. When I saw them all I could think of was the Aerosmith song "Pink is My Favorite Color". I don't know the words to the song, but that line went round and round in my head and I really wanted to get a photograph of them. When he stopped to get a drink I took the opportunity to make a couple of exposures. The whole time I could hear Steven Tyler's voice.

   It's this ability of photographs to tickle the memory that seems to affect me, and it goes both ways. The most frequent is when a photograph jogs some memory; that's common enough. The other less common, is when the memory of a situation moves me to make a photograph. I'll take that any time I can, but I'd sure like to have a better understanding of how it works.

   Pentax K10D, Kit zoom lens.

   Listening to:  http://youtu.be/RLRLhV9U0kQ

  I shouldn't have been surprised when I saw this. We have all heard the stories of "pink slime" and all the other ways agri-businesses have been trying to profitize all aspects of their products, but this takes the cake. 

   I don't know about you, but this is just too much. Asking the animal to advertise its own body on ITS OWN BODY! is where I draw the line. What's next? I don't even know what to say. It's not enough that we eat them!

   Let me know what you think. Please. Something must be done!

   Pentax K10D, Kit zoom.

   Added: 4/1/2012

   Just a few blocks from the Texas state capital building is this statue of Stevie Ray Vaughn, a singer/songwriter/musician I hold in high regard who died in 1990. The sad irony of his death was that it came after he had apparently won his own war on drugs and substance abuse. He was engaged to be married, his music was well received, and to all outward appearances he was enjoying the best years of his life when the helicopter in which he was riding went down. You just never know.

   I went to Austin to spend some time with my good friend Dave. I don't think he'll mind if I mention that he's having a fight with cancer. They recently operated and were successful in removing the tumor, but I don't think anyone who has walked that close to the edge is ever quite the same. He's doing pretty well now, but you just never know.

   Dave and I are two of three good friends who met fifty years ago in high school. The third is Ray. We were all photographers on the yearbook staff, and have been friends ever since. Ray is doing battle with leukemia. He's had what appears to be a successful bone marrow transplant, but you just never know.

   I couldn't be there with Ray as I would have liked to have been. I was having my own tussle with cancer. They cut it out and a year later things are looking promising, but you just never know.

   What I do know is that Ray, Dave and I never spoke a harsh or unkind word to one another, and even if we couldn't be there for one another, we were always there for one another.

   Stevie Ray never saw it coming; neither did we. Here's a suggestion; the next time you get the opportunity to put your arms around your friends and tell them you love them do it. You just never know.

   Canon G10, processed in Photoshop

   Listening to:    http://youtu.be/5CfutuQYcBY

   I can remember my dad sitting at the kitchen table reading the paper as he finished his morning coffee. He was a serious coffee drinker; cream no sugar. It was a recipe for the occasional disaster. I recall numerous times watching his face as he discovered that the cream had spoiled, but he wouldn't drink it black. It was enough of an example to me that when I started drinking coffee I learned to drink it black. No spoiled cream for me.

   I don't know if it was his time in the Army during WWII, the effects of the Great Depression, or maybe my imagination, but it seems to me that he and other folks of that era drank coffee in a more serious, thoughtfull manner, almost like the devout drinkers one sees in neighborhood bars before lunch. I'd be interested to know what his reaction would be to Starbuck's and other trendy coffee bars where one can spend more on a cup of coffee than he once earned in a day. 

   Chris and I had stopped for the night in Camden, Maine and I was stalking the main street for subjects when I happened upon this image. I had initially been drawn to a stairway at the building next door when I saw this gentleman out of the corner of my eye. I kept working that stairway, but kept my eye on the man. He glanced up once or twice to see what I was up to, then returned to his paper. He reminded me of my dad; not his looks, but his manner. He would set his cup down, arrange the paper just so, then carefully go back for the cup; almost like a priest offering the sacrements, very methodical.

   When the time was right all I had to do was rotate my body to make the exposure. I didn't even have to shift my feet. I was able to do this about four times before I felt I was pushing my luck. I don't think he ever realized he was being photographed.

   I really like the complex arrangement of the reflections, and the light over the man's head. They remind me of the light bulb over the guy's head in comic strips when an idea presents itself. I wonder how long that symbol has been in use. Does it predate light bulbs. Was it first oil lamps or candles? 

   The whole experience of this image is a good example of why I enjoy photography. In the search for one photograph I was offered another, different image. That image reminded me of fond memories of my father; and hoping to be taken down those paths keeps me looking for more photographs. It's a circular kind of thing; like a lens that brings into focus not only what is in front of me , but what's behind as well. Pretty cool, huh?

   Pentax K10D, kit zoom. Processed in Photoshop and Nik Silver efx Pro 4.

   Listening to:  http://youtu.be/Hz9bouTI2gA