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Saturday, April 30, 2011

More Adventurous

Sometimes the most important lessons in photography come not from the dissection of the perfect photo, but from the shot that was not captured: the opportunity that was missed.

Allow me to digress.

I want to become more adventurous. That's not to say I'm wholly unadventurous - I've traveled a bit, have driven nearly 23,000 miles across the US and Canada over the last two summers, rock climb regularly (albeit indoors only), and have been lucky enough to have a slew of unique experiences others may never have. But does traveling and having unique experiences inherently make one adventurous? I'd venture emphatically to say: no.

Adventurous (adj): disposed to seek adventure or to cope with the new and unknown; characterized by unknown dangers and risks.

When I travel, it's calculated and safe. I plan. I turn to maps and guides for advice. I follow a relatively set itinerary. I stay within my comfort zone. I'm largely risk-averse. I worry. I get stressed and shut down. Typically I'm not one to jump into something head first, eyes closed, fingers crossed. For the most part, I remove the "adventure" from the adventure! It's sad, I know. I could get into the family of origin jargon about why I am the way I am, but this is a photography blog, right?

Recently I've committed myself to a new perspective. To say "yes" more often. To be open to new, exciting experiences, even if they seem scary and have unknown elements, which they often do. I'm trying to go somewhere or do something new each and every weekend, which is why when I invited 7 friends to hike Old Rag Mountain with me this Saturday, and they all either responded "no" or failed to reply at all, I decided I'd just go on my own.

My plan was to wake up at 4am on Saturday morning and be on the road by 5 at the latest. With Old Rag Mountain, which rests in Shenandoah National Park in Virginia, being the most popular hike in the area and one of the best-traveled on the entire coast, I knew I'd have to hit the trail by 7am to avoid significant delays on the more technical portions. Typically I'd do significant research the night before, even for a short day-trip, but this time I merely checked the weather: 70 and beautiful - a picturesque Spring day. I'd pack quickly in the morning and get breakfast on the road. I'd have to leave Donovan behind since dogs are not allowed on the trail.

When my alarm buzzed at 4am this morning, after less than 5 hours of sleep, my body screamed "NO!!!!" as did my brain. For a moment I considered postponing the excursion until next weekend, or more likely, forever. But I quickly recommitted myself to the mission.

To me, there's something very special about being on the road before sunrise. It's a time I cherish: the quiet, the serenity, being one of the few awake to watch the sun peek over the horizon. It's an experience I got to have a number of times over the summer, and it never gets old for me. I fueled up at a rest stop about halfway to my destination with an Egg McMuffin and a Starbucks Double Shot Espresso can. Breakfast. Of. Champions.

As I approached the outskirts of the park on unfamiliar rural roads looking for the Old Rag parking area and trailhead, I realized I actually had little to no idea where I was going. Embarrassingly, I turned a 90-mile jaunt from point A to point B into a 135-mile circular trek in search of my destination, wherever it was. In truth, I wasn't exactly sure where I was, I just knew I was not where I needed to be. I finally reached the parking lot, slathered on some sunblock and bug screen, and hit the trail as quickly as I could.

Almost immediately I regretted having brought my camera. With an extra lens, the pack was heavy. It was making me sweat. It was cumbersome on the portions of the trail in which maneuvering narrow passageways is necessary. The truth is, when I go hiking, I rarely if ever use my camera. But I feel as though I should have it, just in case. I bring it, I carry it the whole way, but it stays in the bag. Here's the bottom line: I'm a hiker first, and a photographer second. Or third. Or fourth. The fact is, I'm probably a writer, athlete, and musician before I'm a photographer. I'll never lug a tripod to the top of a mountain. Never. I don't seek out the summit in order to capture a brilliant panoramic shot. I seek it out for the satisfaction of sitting down atop a mountain that I just conquered, having a snack, drinking some water, looking out into the vast expanses, and feeling the cool breeze and hot sun beat against my face.

Overall, for an East Coast hike, I enjoyed it. The mile-long rock scramble, reminiscent of playing amongst the bulbous mounds at Joshua Tree, made the ascent interesting, not to mention a challenge. The summit was underwhelming, as summits typically are. I pulled out my camera, snapped a couple obligatory shots of vast blue and green, and returned it to my sweat-covered pack. I'm sure a more experienced and committed photographer could have captured an impressive panoramic today. I just don't think I have it in me - technically or emotionally.

I then sat and thought about how you have to be motivated to complete a hike, or anything for that matter, on your own. People like doing things together. And can you blame them? When you're on your own there's no one to share in or validate your accomplishment. No one to be proud of you. Just you. You have to be self-satisfied. You have to be proud of yourself. That has to be enough.

I completed the 9-mile loop in 3 hours, a swift 3-mile per hour pace (here I go, talking about speed and efficiency instead of stopping to smell the roses...or more accurately, the poison ivy). This is a good example of how I suck the adventure out of adventure! Life's a journey - that should be my new mantra.

I only took 9 photos today, and while I don't have any impressive shots to show for my efforts, I'm okay with that. In fact, the only "keeper" is a photo of a leaf, which I probably could have captured by walking down the street :) Next time I probably won't even bring my camera along - too much pressure, too much guilt for never taking it out. Sometimes I just want to enjoy the scenery, soak up the experience, and capture the images through my eyes, instead of through a lens.

And now it's time for a much needed nap.

Friday, April 29, 2011

depth of field.


I like depth of field. I've been experimenting with it quite a bit lately. This isn't a fantastic shot of Mr. Lucky Charms, but I like the depth of field.

Last post for the day, I promise ;)

hello, spring.


The farm is my happy place, especially when I'm there by myself. Today was a beautiful, deep-blue-sky and puffy-white-clouds kind of day, so I brought my camera along. I like this shot, because it's simple and pure. And represents the lushness of spring time.

madison.


Madison is a good horse. She's the stallion's daughter. She's one of my favorite horses because she'll drop everything she's doing to walk over and say hi to me. She sticks her snout out between the bars in search of a loving pet. I like this picture of her, because it captures her innocence and youth.

Sunday, April 24, 2011

Dracaena

One more for the house plant series: dracaena.

Monday, April 18, 2011

A Raging River



Over the weekend we received a generous amount of rain in the DC Area. I knew this meant impending doom for Day 1 of YMCA Spring Break camp (for those who don't know, I'm a Mental Health Therapist for The Y, and over Spring Break and during the summer we run "therapeutic" camps for the kids, i.e. I get to wear shorts, trail shoes, and a flannel to work). This is a very special time for me.

It was my job to plan Day 1 so I decided we'd take the kids to the Maryland side of Great Falls National Park to hike the popular Billy Goat Trail. I was worried about all the rain over the weekend because I know the trail closes when the water level reaches 5.4 (considered "Action" stage). When I checked last night the water was at 10.8 ("Flood" stage) and today it peaked at 11.7 ("Moderate" stage, not to be confused with "Major" stage). I hope this blog is not only entertaining, but informative regarding river levels.

With the Billy Goat Trail buried under 10,000 feet of water, there's not much to do on the Maryland side of Great Falls unless you want to walk up and down the towpath and stare at the C & O Canal. A good plan for a group of fourteen, ADHD-diagnosed teenagers? No shot.

We decided our best bet was to travel to the Virgina side of Great Falls where one can get up close and personal with the higher-than-normal rapids - a little more excitement for the kiddies. Somehow we managed to kill almost 4 hours in the park with a mix of team building activities, a football and a frisbee, lunch and snacking, tug-o-war, throwing stone after stone into the Potomac River, "blind" dodge ball, some form of tag I will never play again, board games, and general chaos. Luckily, no one was insured save for some minor cuts and skinned knees. While many of the kids showed signs of boredom at times, overall I felt pretty good about the day, considering it was completely impromptu.

As we drove past the sign for the park one of the kids asked longingly, "Wait, are we in Virginia???" And this served to remind me just how unprivileged some of these kids are, coming mainly from low-income, immigrant families. It's a big deal for them to have these experiences over the next few days: to go bowling, climb a ropes course, or hell, even travel into Virginia. Sadly, these kids don't get around much - one of them told me, "My dad lives far away, I'm not sure where...I think in Rockville." For those who don't live in the Montgomery County suburbs: 1) I envy you, and 2) Rockville is about 15 minutes from where most of these kids live, hardly "far away."

What does this post have to do with photography? Not much, except that I brought my camera along today and snapped these two shots of the falls: a violently raging river.

Sunday, April 17, 2011

Roscoe


James, can I keep your lens? After a week w/ my friend's Canon 17-55mm f/2.8 I've decided I cannot go on in this world without a fast lens. Take this photo of Roscoe, for instance. He is a 7-year-old Wheaten Terrier who still thinks he's a puppy. He poops in the house, he pees on your feet, and he's constantly on the move, making it necessary to use a quick shutter speed to keep him from being a big white blur across the frame. So it was a miracle last night when I actually got him to sit and stay relatively still while I snapped this shot handheld at f/2.8, 1/60th, and ISO 1600 (and Image Stabilization, of course). No light from the outside (it was 9:00pm) and dim light from the kitchen fixture. I never would have been able to capture this at f/3.5 and a slower shutter speed.

Unfortunately, I really can't afford another lens right now, so I ask, I bed, I plead again: James, can I keep your lens? :)

Saturday, April 9, 2011

The Dog Days are Over

Donovan is slowing down. He used to drag me on runs, lead me on my mountain bike, and chase deer through the woods with reckless abandon. Sometimes he'd even chase down bicyclists or little children, but that's kind of irrelevant. The point is, Donovan is getting old. Places that were once raven black are now stark white (see above). For the past fews days I've been taking Donnie on a 2.5 mile run, and he just can't make it. He pulls me for about a mile, and then he trails behind the rest of the way, to the point where I'm practically dragging him by the leash. And I don't run fast. I feel bad for the old guy, probably wondering why he can longer do the things he once accomplished so easily. Maybe he's just out of shape from a long winter, or maybe his best days are simply behind him.

House Plants

I'm no master gardener, but I've had decent luck keeping our few house plants alive over the past couple months (well, I did kill the first basil plant by keeping it on the balcony overnight in the dead of winter, but we'll let that one slide). The growth adds a little bit of green to the otherwise dreary 1-bedroom apartment in the heart of the Montgomery County suburbs. Where am I going with this? Well, yesterday I borrowed my friend James Masciuch's Canon 17-55mm f/2.8 lens. I've missed having a fast lens as my 50mm f/1.8 and 60mm f/2.8 were both stolen over the summer. My Canon 15-85mm f/3.5 is great, but the f/2.8 gives me slightly more versatility in low-light, indoor situations.


I woke up this morning and before taking Donovan for a walk I wanted to try out James' lens. I went straight over to the plants, getting ample sunlight (or should I say "overcast light") through the windows. I'd forgotten how great the depth of field can be when you're shooting with a fast lens, how much more depth (creative word choice, I know) it gives a simple photo.


I think I may do a series of house plant shots to frame and hang in the near future because I know it's much easier to keep photos of house plants alive than it is to keep the actual plants thriving.