365/4 Urban Warrior

"To trudge: the slow, weary, depressing yet determined walk of a man who has nothing left in life except the impulse to simply soldier on."

Chaucer, A Knight's Tale

That's what he did when he emerged from a low bush not 10 feet from me as I walked towards car. We were both trudging, really. He towards safety, me towards freedom. The day has been long for both of us. We weary of the days toils and watch carefully for the predators soaring overhead.

I decided to introduce myself to the little man crossing my path. We stopped and looked at each other. No, not just looking ... staring each other down, visually testing each other's mettle.

There's a scene from Hero that keeps playing through my mind. You know which one I'm talking about. Nameless and Skye are facing each other in the courtyard, rain slowly pelting them. They stare at each other, pre-visualizing the impending fight, watching each subtle move of the other, until defeat is determined before a blow is ever struck. The movements are in slow motion, exacting and unforgiving.

This was the stare that was going on between us, this little guy and I.

He saw his defeat when I struck the first chord of the shutter. The only thing he could do was attempt a retreat, snail-like and massacred by failure. I gave chase, but only to record and preserve. He dodged into the brush, where, moments later, the photo was captured and he was left in peace.

I last saw him turn to look at me. I swore he winked.

And returned to my trudging I did.

365/3 Breakfast at Tiffany's

"Of all the lessons in life that I've learned the hard way, the ones involving frontal nudity and hot bacon grease seem to be the most enduring"

Sunday morning sleep is sacrosanct in my home. It's my recovery day, a day of peace and rest, laziness and excess. The kids know to wake up and get their own breakfast. They're generally pretty good about it, fetching themselves cereal or toast. Sometimes with strawberry jam, if we have it stocked in the refrigerator.

But, when I wake up, I want something hearty. Something that doesn't come out of a pre-packaged box. It must combine all the goodness of caffeine to awaken me, syrup to sweeten the mood, and a saltiness that is divine. And where best to have those three luscious ingredients but in a filling Sunday morning banquet of flapjacks, joe, and fried bacon goodness.

The pancakes must be buttermilk. Nothing but the lightest and fluffiest, covered in butter. For a twist, throw in some sliced strawberries. (Strawberries? I sense a trend in the house ...)

The coffee? I love my coffee. It must be ground fresh. None of this Folgers crap for me. I have to want to bury my nose in the grounds and huff it like a street junkie on Krylon (brown, if you please). Each cup must be delicately floated with half-and-half. Or whipped cream. And sugared like a white powdered donut. In other words, light, sweet, and delicious. Like cake.

And finally, the bacon. Thick cut, if you please. Not overdone. Burnt, I mean. I like it crispy, but chewy. Not too much meat, not too much fat. I want it to dissolve in my mouth like a thin slice of proscuitto. Only, with that rich pork fat kick that only comes with the sautéing in a heavy skillet.

And if there's anything you absolutely, positively must do on a Sunday morning such as this? Fancy yourself some clothing when slapping that first strip of bacon onto the griddle.

Trust me. You'll thank me.

365/2 800 RPMs and Going Nowhere

I'm so amped up from this New Year's weekend. It's felt like one long party. Sitting at a stoplight, waiting for the light to go green, on my way to the next exhaustingly fun moment of the weekend. And now, I feel like I'm spinning my wheels going nowhere while the adrenaline wears off.

Jittery.

Yeah, that's the feeling.

Jittery.

365/1 Double Vision

"Vision is the art of seeing what is invisible to others."

Jonathan Swift

Double vision is the art of seeing what the drunken mind cannot focus upon. Or something like that. I've been watching the photo streams of a few 365 projects on Flickr for the last few months. Well, not so much watching ... but staring at with abandon, noting the subtle and progressive changes in style and vision from day 1 to day 365. Inspiring, really. And it's been making me long for a new project.

I made my first attempt at a photo-a-day project in two years ago, today, actually. I didn't get very far into it before I lost interest. 68 days from the look of it. I got stuck. Plain and simple. On the 69th day, I just didn't have it in me, so I chose not to take a photo. And the same occurred on the day after. And then the day after. And the day after. I slowly sank in the quicksand of artistic blah and couldn't make my way out.

2009 was a different year for me artistically. I had some good, but simple projects going on, but the loss of the studio space was a major blow to my creativity. The studio, however much of a crutch it became, was a constant reminder that I should shoot. I knew that I had to shoot at least four or five times a month to make it profitable to me, not only monetarily, but artistically. I needed it there to keep the vision going.

But, I lost it. The studio was gone and so was whatever real willpower I had to kick myself in the ass to go out and shoot.

2010 will be different. This is my goal. I want to see the beginning and the end of my 365 days of photography, much like the others I've been pouring through the last few weeks. New Year's Day is a natural beginning point for it and this time I won't squander it.

Of course, I say this with a plastic cup in my hand, filled with the wonderfully creamy contents of a Black Cow. Or Dead Cow. It's "Something" Cow. I know that. It's tasty. And I knew enough to remember to take my first photo of 2010 before I let the mooing creation lull me to sleep.

And here it is. Unfocused. Double vision. Imperfect in every way. Now let's see where this goes.

[And if you're following at home, if you see that I've fallen behind on my 365, feel free to kick me in the ass. Sometimes we all need a bit of bottom-of-the-boot encouragement to keep with our goals.]

Favorite Photos of 2009

January

We spent an evening at the ER in January. My daughter had some sort of infection in her cheeks that caused them to balloon. She looked like a chipmunk. She was scared so I pulled out the camera and started taking pictures of her to keep her occupied. It worked. And I got some great photos of her.

February

Stephanie came up to the studio one evening in February. James had wanted to do a white-face shoot with her and invited me a long. I wanted to do something very directional light-wise. This is one of my favorite photos. I have it hanging up in my office at work.

March

The Austin Music Awards. I don't remember the name of the band, but the keyboardist was spiff. The glasses just made the photo. If you look close, you can see the keyboard in the reflection.

April

A short photowalk around the University of Texas. I like fire hydrants for some reason. No idea why. For this, I wanted to throw the sharpest point of focus just before the water plug. This has a nice cinematic feel to it. I was inspired by some photos on flickr from (I think it was) mingthien.

May

I wanted her cocooned. So we wrapped her in plastic and killed all the lights. I loved this old wood floor at the studio. It had a life to it. Red and creased, dirty but swept. She had this lovely tattoo that I couldn't stop staring at, so off the plastic came. Ripped to shreds so it would reveal the painted flesh beneath.

June

Lacey wanted to do something different. So we met at the Cathedral of Junk in South Austin. It was one of the hottest !@#$% days of the year. Or, at least it felt like it. By 11am, I was dripping with sweat and we were done. Magnanimous and beneficent. She had this queenly appeal going on sitting on that throne.

July

The 4th of July. Sitting amongst the tens of thousands of people on Auditorium Shores. The lesson of the day? Pay attention to wear the fireworks pots are set up ... and make sure that a street lamp isn't between you and them. Had to zoom in for anything worthwhile. Next time, though ...

August

Another photowalk. I came across this group of dancers on the South Mall at UT one afternoon. He had just gotten out from under the lion's head. You could see him panting and working to catch his breath.

September

Ah. The Buenos Aires Cafe in East Austin. I took my wife there one evening in September. Our first night out in awhile. No kids. It was a mini vacation. I had my camera along for the ride. Got some odd, but curious looks from the waitstaff there when I pulled it out every time they brought a new dish to our table. My wife kept laughing at me. No matter. The tart was excellent.

October

On a hike through Bastrop State Park with my boys and a good friend. It had been raining all week leading up to this. The weather had cleared just enough, but the park was still inundated with the remains of the storms.

November

She wanted to be Aeon Flux. We only had a short time to pull this one off. She moved away two weeks later. She had the outfit down. Hair, makeup, guns, pose. We threw our own touch onto the idea and suspended her with rope.

December

And finally, everyone should play with bubbles. You create little translucent worlds that last only moments, each one different, each one a character unto it's own. And then it pops.

I don't know that I'll take anymore photos this year. I still have a full card to go through. But ... there's still a New Year's Eve party ahead of us, so ... who knows. Maybe I'll get one more in before the clock ticks over and resets the new year.

Santa has left the building! ... or a Strobist post-Christmas

Ok. This was originally intended as a post-Christmas review of the orgy of greed at our house. But ... then it turned into something else. With apologies to David Hobby and others mentioned in this take on "'Twas the Night Before Christmas". I couldn't help myself. It just took on a life of it's own after the first four lines.

'Twas a night after Christmas, when all through the home,

All the creatures were snoring, all wheezing an "ooooohm";

The stockings still hung by the chimney o'er there,

all emptied out with vague pomp and no care;


The children passed out all quiet in bed

while visions of chocolate and pokemon danced in their heads;

And mamma with her WOW client, and I in my chair,

Had just settle down for a deserved breathe of air.


When out on the lawn there arose such a "WHEE!",

I sprang from my seat to see what it could be.

Away to the front door I grudgingly trudged

Tore open the lock and wickedly judged.


The moon was at peace on my dead front grass,

Giving nothing but darkness to the objects amassed,

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,

But a beat up old Pinto aflame at the rear


With a flash totin' driver, so wizened and nobby

I knew in a moment it must be David Hobby.

More rapid than beagles his speedlights they triggered,

and he whistled, and chimped, while his assistants jiggered;


"Now, McNally! now, Wizwow, now Kelby, and Jarvis!

On, Oglethorpe! On, Bounceman, On Honl and Zack Arias!

To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!

Now flash away, flash away! flash away all!"


As Rosco samples that in the wind blow,

When they meet with an obstacle, gaffer tape will flow.

So up to the house-top the photogs they flew,

with a box full of superclamps and St. Strobist too.


And then, with a ringing, I heard on the roof

The struggling and screaming of each popped flash on it's hoof.

As I drew back my camera and was turning about,

Down the chimney St. Strobist dropped right out.


He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his toe,

thanks to the great '09 blizzard that covered with snow.

A bundle of goodies he had flung on his back,

And he looked like a UPS guy just opening his pack.


His eyes -- how they sparkled! His nose was so blue!

His cheeks were so frozen, his mouth still craving a Dew!

And up on his forehead camped an orange and blue cap,

The Gators, of course, don't you know that you sap?


The stump of a pocket wizard held tight in his hand,

And the signal it triggered on some 4 channel band.

The glasses that shined and a broad grin

that bubbled up and spread from here to therein.


He was chubby and plump, a right jolly 'tog,

And I giggled when I saw him, no fear, just agog.

A wink of his eye and a nod of his chin,

Just let me see that this was all sorts of win.


He spoke not a word, but he chimped and he triggered

And filled all the CF cards; then turned and he staggered

And laying his finger aside of his cap

And giving a nod, up the chimney he did flap;


He sprang to his Pinto, to his team gave a "whee!"

And away they all puttered like an alien with bee.

But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,

"Have fun with your lighting, and with that, good night!"

The photo above is of my daughter on Christmas Day. I'd set up two SB-800's on opposite corners of the room after re-reading the post on Christmas Game Plans: Results from way back in 2007. Didn't get very consistent results because I was using TTL. I think, next year, I'll just slap the pocket wizards in place, dial in a consistent exposure and flash power, and see how much better that works. This photo was one of the best. I like it. TTL worked in this particular case. But ... next time.

The Photo I Didn't Take: Strix Varia

Photo of the Strix Varia, aka the "Barred Owl", courtesy of Wikipedia

We all hear it echo in the back of our heads, "The best camera is the one you have with you." You can't take a photo if you don't have that camera within easy reach (or even within reach at all). And we've all done it. Gotten in a hurry, I mean. Gotten so frazzled that we were late or that we thought we wouldn't need it, so it stayed in the camera bag sitting on the kitchen table. Back at the house. 20 miles away.

That's where my camera was on Saturday night. Sitting there, all pristine and warm and cozy with the 50mm f1.8 slapped on it on this chilled Central Texas winter's night. I looked at it right before I walked out of the house thinking I wouldn't need it. You see, I was going to a Christmas party and didn't want to burden myself with having to play the camera guy for the evening. I've been roped into doing that before. It's fun when I want it to be. But this night, I wanted to relax and enjoy myself, not worry about recording the evening for one and all to cherish.

... and out the door I went.

My friend's place is out in the boonies. Far enough out of town that you can begin to see the stars again, but not so far out that the light pollution is gone and you can see the Milky Way. Close, yet so far. Their place is a bit set back from the road. And by a bit, I mean, you turn onto their drive way and travel for another five minutes as it winds back through the narrow strip of land that leads back to the rest of the ranch. Half-way there, you come to a small one-lane concrete bridge that they built over a wet weather creek.

So, like I normally do whenever I'm out there at night, I'm driving slow, driving careful, high beams on so I don't hit anything that looks like a skunk, and making sure I don't bottom the car out on the drive way. This night was no different. But then, it was.

As I said, I don't like speeding on their property. It's rude. Plus, with the recent rain, the driveway was a bit torn up coming up to the bridge. I took it slow and was creeping up onto it, avoiding the mud and the bottomless puddles.

I almost missed it.

The owl, I mean.

It was fully illuminated in my headlights, not more than five feet from the hood of my car. It just sat there, looking at me intently, perched all by it's lonesome on the bridge guard rail. It stared and stared, as if it was willing me to turn off those blinding deer illuminators bolted to the front of my car.

The first instinct was to gently hit the brake. Check.

The second instinct was to reach over and grab the camera with my nice, wide open 50mm and get a photo or three before the owl flew off.

I reached. And felt. And scrambled. And where the camera wasn't, a glass plate of brownies was. CRAP! My camera, my trusty sidekick ... was AWOL. And then I remembered.

It was at home. 20 miles away. In the warmth of the house.

I knew it was back there, silently mocking me. If Nikon had an Easter egg in it's bodies, that Easter egg would be a voice chip and speaker that would laugh hilariously at you whenever you needed the camera most, but failed to keep it at hand.

So, I just sat there, watching the owl watch me back. It was a face off for no more than a dozen seconds. And with that, he leapt from his post guarding the bridge to fly off into the pitch black darkness that wasn't pierced by my headlights.

And this, my dear reader, is why it's important to always have your camera. Because when you're faced with an owl in the dead of night, you want to have something to remember it by. Otherwise, it becomes the photo you didn't take.

And before you ask, it might not have been Strix Varia. I'm pretty sure it was based on the coloring, the markings, and photos of the common owls in Central Texas. But hey. I could be wrong. It was still pretty !@#$% cool to see an owl in the dead of night.