Togs at Willis

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Lots of photographers at the Willis Tower today. Yes!

Missing winter in Chicago? Not me!

Wing Park

Slump over

For 3 weeks or so I've been out of my slump. Still trying to figure out if it was a creative slump, laziness or the depressing weather (cold, wet, overcast). Oh well, though fodder for future.

I was given a rare opportunity to re-shoot a client. Seems new folks joined the company since last shoot. I revisited the original shoot and thought how to shoot better. Of course, my main thought going into AND after the shoot was securing a good flash. Since it'll be about $450 I've waited. Still, I needed something just a little bit better than my on-camera flash. I finally just headed to Best Buy (gift certificate) and bought an open-box Canon "baby" flash (270ex) for about a C-note. I'm surprised at it's power. It'll certainly help with portraits and other close-up situations but more importantly, it'll let me get the flash OFF the camera so I'm happy.

The re-shoot went great and I'm much happier with having had the flash to use rather than relying on the overhead florescent lights.

I also brought my reflector which was very useful. However, gotta say, using that 43" disc by myself and position g it where I wanted it wasn't easy. Gotta work on a good solution.

LIGHTwriters

Last fall, I finally bit the bullet and created an online Facebook photoclub. It has it's typical Facebook limitations, but given it's trial nature, I'll live with it. It was my desire o share photos, critique, encourage and share thoughts, questions and resources. It's been a slow process. Realizing I was doing most of the posting, I inquired if we should kill it. A few said they enjoyed it so it remains alive. Since then, activity has picked up a little. I often wonder if my passion for things scare people; maybe even put-off people. All my life, I seem to take my passions to the 'enth degree. I've learned my passion level is rarely another person's passion. For the past couple of years ago or so, my fire for photography has been reignited and has been a roaring inferno to the day. Several podcasts every day, a dozen emails daily, several monthly magazines (like Playboy of my youth, I subscribed to National Geographic just for the pictures - I rarely even read the articles!). Things are picking up in LIGHTwriters and I'm glad. I fear my passion sometimes...that's disconcerning.

Scarry

My 50mm 1.8 scares me. I must overcome...

Style

Listening to The Candid Frame Podcast #105 (with William Allard) on the train to downtown Chicago this morning got me thinking about photographic style. When listening to interviews I typicaly imagine the question being directed to me and in other podcasts someone asked a photographer about how he'd describe his "style.". I couldn't answer that for myself and figured it was because of lack of experience in broad-based photography. While listening to Allard it occurred to me I no longer care to answer that question. I prefer to let others describe my "style.". For me it seems o be more a subconscious thing rather than deliberate acts on my part. Somehow knowing my style scares me a bit. Will I feel limited and lose motivation to experiment once I know? I don't care a great deal to know. I shoot what I want in a manner I feel is both creative and challenging to me. I guess I can afford to do that since I have no clients of which to speak. :) I am, however, curious to hear what viewers of my work feel my "style" is. Guess I care a small deal to know. I'm in no rush.

Vivian Maier

Went to the Vivian Maier exhibit yesterday at the Chicago Cultural Center. Fascinating back story. I tried, as I typically do, select the one photograph that had the greatest emotional impact for me. Her exhibit, as was Sandro Miller's, was tough. Lots of emotionally moving photos and many with high visual impact. Below is the one I selected. I don't beleive it was titled - many were not. As soon as I saw it, I couldn't stop looking at it. After moving along and getting to the end, I went back for another couple of minutes. I was immediately reminded of Edward Weston's "Nude." The subject's positioning is not the same but they had, for me, the same emotional impact. The abstractness. The form. The absence of face. It all made me wonder, think and make up backstories. I looked his stains and position and all I could think about the crappy lot in life he probably had. Likely dead by now (shot in 1953) but wondered about his life and how, but for the grace of God, go I. Why him and not me?

for comparision, Weston's "Nude":