Selling the Work

 I stopped in at a local store recently and asked about displaying/selling my photography.  The woman at the counter asked if I had a portfolio on line that she could look at.  Boy, am I outta date.  So now I'm researching on-line portfolio sites to find something that works for me.  This one is pretty cool and enables slide shows with music.



I've got oodles of framed photos...now I just have to get them out there.  Wherever 'there' may be.  I've tried on-line sales but I've only put a half-hearted effort into it.

Watching American Masters last week with Mel Brooks being interviewed, it occurred to me what a unique and wonderful vision he brought to millions.  He was just a goofy guy (is) who wanted to have fun.  He decided he was going to live his life that way.  No desk or factory job for him, no sir.  Just think: if he didn't have the courage and the drive to put himself out there, we would miss the treasures he created for us:  Young Frankenstein, The Thousand Year Old Man, Blazing Saddles and the like.  His life and work inspires me to see what could be with my talents.

Self censorship is bringing me down.  I want to be uplifted.  It's a start.

The 100

I applied to take part in a photo project called The 100, and found out today that I've been selected.   They are giving away 100 disposable cameras to individuals aged 1 year to 100 years.  We are to photograph a week of our lives and send in to the site.  There are many folks who have completed the project, but I just heard about it recently.

I love reading the biographies of the people around the globe, and seeing the world through their eyes.  I have no idea what I will photograph...well, okay, I do have some ideas:

• My Sunday morning pals at the breakfast group, if they'll agree;
• My family, if they'll agree;
• My walks around Sacramento;
• Artistic and tasteful nudes of my girlfriend (but she'll never let me)
• The glorious food I eat at places like Revolution Wines, The Porch, The Queen of Sheba.  Hmmm.  Budget dictates I pick one of those, not all three.

Oh, I don't know.  I don't know how many frames are available on said camera.

I submitted this photo of myself and answered a few questions that are, of course, impossible to answer, i.e. What one thing are you most proud of in your life?  One thing?  Most?  Proud? Of?

In the end I settled on my resilience. 

How about you?  What would you say is the ONE thing you are most proud of in your life so far?  Can you possibly narrow it down?

Also, check out the project, and maybe you'll be inspired to apply if they don't have someone from your age group.  It would be fun to have you join us!  And Robin, they need someone aged 60.  Just saying.

A Really Good Date

1981 Taradarma/black & white infrared film

Last night was the opening for a photography exhibit at the gallery where I am a member.  It was the annual Members Show, where any member could submit one photo to be included.  I let my dad pick this picture, which is one of his favorites of mine.  He likes it because it's a photo of him and my sister walking on the beach -- but also because it is mysterious and tells what could be a rather dark story.  Who are the people walking on the sand?  Why is that man following her?

The show was well attended and the range of work was impressive.  I went with L. and she is well-versed in the visual arts and photography in particular.  She asked me what were my favorite prints, and then why.  It's been a long while since I've critiqued beyond saying, "Because I like it."  It was a good exercise for me, answering L.'s questions.  And then I asked the same of her, and she showed me and talked about the work.

Later we had tapas at a restaurant just down the block from the gallery.  I have never had tapas before, if you can believe it.  I didn't know what I was doing -- the menu and the wine and the manner of presentation all foreign to me.  I muddled through and ordered in my very flat Spanish accent, and when the waitress read back our order, L. and I looked at each other and she said, "Well, she certainly pronounced things much differently."  Well, yes, with flare and certain knowledge.

Later, at her house, we sat on the patio drinking port and discussed a wide range of topics.  One of the more in-depth topics was racism in this country, and our perspective (or lack thereof) as white people.  It feels extremely awkward for me, at times, to talk about racism because what the heck do I know?  I can only speak of it with the awareness of an outsider.  Words get so in the way, and misinterpretations are easy - generalizations will do that.  So I got specific and talked about my report on Frederick Douglass when I was in 5th grade; how I admired him and his accomplishments.  I recalled what an eye-opener The Autobiography of Malcolm X was to me in my teens.  I told her he was my hero.  She she said he was also her hero.  Ah, accord. 

Late at night, curled up next to her with the cool Delta breeze blowing the curtains, I reflected on how extraordinary she is: a thoughtful, wickedly smart introvert with a healthy balanced love of conversation and friends.

In the morning, she told me she had so much fun last night.  She said, "You are a really good date!" A high compliment, especially since I know I am much more than just a date for her.

Do you remember a particularly good 'date'?  What made it so special?  How long has it been since you've been on a date?   I suggest you go on one ASAP.  And make it good.

On Photography

print making day!

Somebody recently asked me what kind of photography I do.  I had a hard time answering that question.  What kind of photography do I do?

In the beginning I was primarily inspired by Ansel Adams, Sonya Noskowiak, Edward Weston,  Imogen Cunningham.   All members of the f.64 group. The f.64 group of photography born in San Francisco as a reaction to the Pictorialism that preceded it.  Pictorialism used a lot of soft focus, specialty lenses and props, and was a romantic view of the subject. The tenets of the f.64 movement, also known as Straight or Pure Photography, were defined as being the elimination of any "qualities of technique, composition or idea, derivative of any other art form." In practice f.64 photographs are characterized by lack of image manipulation, careful rendering of delicate tonalities and image details, extreme depth of field, and the refusal to use softening filters or lenses.  They also shot full-frame, no cropping, and so the eye had to get it right, compositionally, from the beginning.

When I first took photography classes I shot in black and white only.  My eye developed this way, and I saw the world in terms of a black and white translation.  When, after many years, I moved into color photography, I had to learn to see all over again.  The intimidation of learning to develop and print color kept me in black and white a long time.  Finally, a college course requirement moved me into color work.  Now, that's mostly what I do.

My shooting style is essentially spontaneous.  I know a lot of photographers who do beautiful landscape photography, plan their locations and shots meticulously and are brilliant technically, both with the camera and with editing/printing.  I am not any of those kinds of photographer.  For me,

- camera is used handheld
- photography is spontaneous
- I move around  and work the subject from multiple angles
- I pay close attention to details when composing in the viewfinder because my goal is to create images which will be printed full frame, without any cropping
- my goal is to capture the "decisive instant", the moment when disparate human and non-human elements in the scene suddenly come together to form a coherent whole

- I frequently take my camera with me during walks or when running errands, in case I see something that visually grabs my attention

- I don't (currently) have very many human subjects in my images

The question posed to me really opened up a long-dormant thought process about my photography.  It was a great question, and has got me thinking and looking at my work.  I've been pulling out images from the 1980s and seeing how different my subjects and style were back then.

I feel energized and inspired.  There is a lot to say and write about, not to mention photograph.  But I'll leave you with these quotes for now:

People don't watch enough. They think. It's not the same thing.
Henri Cartier-Bresson

Every man's work is always a portrait of himself.
Ansel Adams

To be able to really see, one must open not only one's eyes. One must above all, open one's heart.

Gaston Rébuffat, French Alpinist