The "Graces" of Photography: Discovering a Passion

Up until a year and a half ago, I wasn't very interested in photography.  In fact, I thought it was cheating.  To me, it seemed like all someone had to do was point their camera at a pretty scene, push a button, and viola!  A photograph, a piece of art that look less than a minute to create was made.  So what changed for me? Why is photography all of sudden a passion of mine?  Two key factors-- getting a digital camera for Chanukah two years ago and admiring and becoming inspired by my friend Grace's photography.  Both of these have led me toward the graces of photography and admiring it as an art form.

From a very young age, I loved the visual arts-- drawing, painting, sketching, doodling, etc.  When I was young, I began keeping drawing journals of sketches and black and white designs.  I also taught myself how to write in calligraphy and in fancy lettering, including 3-D bubble letters.

Above:   A black and white design

To the right:  Black and white trees

In high school, I took full advantage of the art program, taking almost all of the visual art classes that my school had to offer  (Drawing, Painting, Advertising Design, Fabric Design, Jewelry Making, Printmaking, etc.)   As the Co Editor-in-Chief of my high school's art-literary magazine, I helped run layout workshops (and this was pre-computers!) so we used layout boards.

In college, I went on to explore my interest in art-- photography never entered the picture.  As the art editor of the art-literary magazine, Prism, I scanned pieces of art into the computer and the extent that I used Photoshop was to fine-tune and touch-up pictures.  Of the two art classes I took-- Figure Drawing and Oil Painting-- I particularly enjoyed sitting on the floor with charcoal, smudging it with my fingers to create lines and shadows.  

All of the art forms that I enjoyed engaging in took time to complete-- whereas photography only took a click of a button.  What I loved about the visual arts was being able to create as I worked on it and seeing the evolution of a piece.  I could change the composition as I went along.   Even if I was drawing a still life or a landscape, I could add or take out elements that worked for my piece.

With photography, (pre-digital cameras), everything felt so permanent.  Once a picture was taken, that was it.  There was no way to work on it, to make it better.  There was no view screen to assess how a picture had turned out to determine if more should be taken.  Photography was also an expensive art form with which to experiment-- having to pay for rolls of film and their development.  One year, in summer camp, I learned how to develop my own pictures.  Although it was neat to see the pictures slowly appear before my eyes, I felt removed from the experience of actually taking the pictures.  If I didn't like how the photographs turned out, there was little I could do about it.  It was difficult to figure out what to do differently next time, when I was so far removed from the scene.

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That all changed when I received a digital camera for Chanukah two years ago.  The whole art of picture taking was completely transformed for me.  Inspiration struck one morning at school upon seeing beams of sunlight pouring through the branches and leaves of several trees.  Captivated by the sight, I felt compelled to capture it on film.  The immediacy of the experience gave me an adrenaline rush.  As soon as I clicked a button, an image appeared on the view screen.  I could assess whether I had captured what I had intended to.  If not, I could change my angle, position, location to attempt a different effect.  Playing around with multiple variables, I could experiment with how the picture came out and check each time on the view screen, instant feedback.  

This experience sparked my interested in nature photography.  I started to become more mindful of scenes outdoors that would lend themselves to good pictures.  

I began paying more attention to the nature photography that my friends posted on Facebook, especially Grace's.  Grace's pictures, and her photographic techniques, transformed the way I thought about photography.  In the past, I always thought of it as you take your camera, capture a picture of a pretty scene or you wait for a picture worthy scene to unfold and you take a picture.  Grace's photography taught me that there is much more skill, technique, and artistic eye involved than that.  It's about thinking, "What do you want the viewer to see?"  Depending on the answer, zoom in or zoom out to highlight different aspects.  

Her photography showed me that zooming in on one subject, without much else in the composition, can make for an interesting picture.   So I began taking some close-ups.

One of the most eye-opening features of photography that her pictures showed me is how creative the experience can be.  With digital photography, the picture can be transformed long after the button is clicked (unlike developing your own photos).  Techniques that she uses in iphoto, such as cropping and rotating, opened up possibilities to me-- the idea that the picture does not need to be perfect when you first take it.  You can have an idea, an image, a feeling, a pattern that you want to capture and then manipulate it into the shape or the direction that you want afterward.  

Grace's series of shots capturing the reflection of images in water have particularly intrigued me-- especially the ways that she crops and rotates images to focus in on patterns, details, and colors.  Viewing her pictures inspired me to experiment with the same techniques.  

The following is a picture that was a reflection in water and I cropped and rotated it to make it the focus.

Through paying close attention to Grace's pictures and conversations with her about photography, I have learned some of the graces of photography-- ways to think about pictures and the picture taking experience, both during and afterward.  

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Another grace of photography is incorporating the picture taking into the experience itself so as not to disrupt the scene.  My friend, Brenda, introduced me to two highly contrasting views of photography.  Some people feel that taking pictures removes the photographer from the experience, erecting the lens as a barrier between herself and the experience.  Other people feel that cameras enhance the experience-- allowing the photographer to relive it again and again long after it has ended.  

For me, photography is a very mindful experience.  While trying to capture a particular scene, mood, color, pattern, I often find that I am more attentive to details than I would have been otherwise, such as the patterns on the frog below.

 

Another grace of photography is learning how to be so quiet that you can let nature unfold before you, without disrupting the scene.

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The last but certainly not final grace for a photographer is being attuned to her own particular interests.  For the last few years, I've been wondering why I am so interested in certain aspects of pictures (shadows and patterns).  Over the past week it has finally occurred to me that these are the same features in the visual arts that have always intrigued me.  

My fascination with patterns originates from the black and white pattern designs I started drawing in middle school. My interest in shadows comes from the intense focus on them while sitting on the floor, smudging charcoal across the paper while doing life drawings in college.  My work with 3-D bubble letters is also all about shadows. 

I was fascinated by the patterns of the shadows on my porch this summer.

Although photography is a new passion that I've developed within the past year and a half, my interest in many of its visual aspects originated from older well-established artistic interests of mine.  

Thanks to my digital camera and Grace in helping me to learn and develop many of the graces of photography.  Through viewing Grace's pictures and talking with her about photography, I have come to appreciate the skill, technique, and artistic eye involved in this art form.  I'm excited to continue to develop my craft and my passion.

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To readers of this blog:  I'm interested in hearing about a passion that you developed when you were older and how you became interested in it.

Photography: My Olive Branch Offering to My Winter Nemesis, Ice

The last few winters my winter nemesis has been ice.  All kinds of ice have been out to get me (black ice, shiny ice, smooth hard ice, crunchy ice, ice mixed with snow).  You name it, all kinds of ice have caused me an assorment of falls including sliding down my front stairs fully armed with multiple bags (twice) and my legs completely falling out from under me while carrying a laundry basket filled with laundry!   These falls have resulted in a colorful (and quite impressive) array of bruises, weeks of soreness, and a grimace from my acupuncturist as she watched me painfully try to swing myself up on the table.  

Despite my understandable increased dread of the ice, I decided that this year I would try to make a peace offering with Mother Nature.  Holding out photography as an olive branch my deal has been:


"I'll appreciate your beauty during the winter if you promise not to attack me!"


Arming myself with my camera, I have tried to discover, appreciate, and capture the beauty of my winter nemesis, ice.  




Icicles

1.  Icicles particularly fascinate me.  I think that it is really cool how water can drip down, forming a long spear of ice that clings onto the gutters and the edges of houses and buildings despite the onslaught of the winter elements of snow, rain, and wind.  In this picture, extremely long icicles hang down from the side of my house.  They are what my friend's daughter calls "killer icicles". 

I am also intrigued by the fascinating shapes of icicles.  In this picture, a claw-shaped icicle has formed from water dripping off of a drainpipe by the side of my house.  

A few days later, after the fifth winter storm of the season, the icicle morphed into the following shape:

Frozen Spy Pond

When Spy Pond freezes over in the winter, it is a beautiful place to take pictures.  I'm particularly interested in how the ice captures the sunlight.  In this picture, the ice shimmers.  The sunlight seems to skip across the ice, highlighting the numerous textures of Spy Pond.

What was really exciting was that this picture was recently published in my local newspaper!

The ice in the pond can even look really beautiful when it's breaking.  My friend, Caroline, commented that there is a violent feeling about this picture, yet it's so natural and innocuous at the same time.

I'm also fascinated by how ice appears to change colors.  In the picture of Spy Pond, below, the ice seems to take on the pretty blues and pinks of the sky.

And in this picture of Spy Pond, only parts of the pond are frozen, creating a neat effect of water and ice that take on the brilliant blues of the sky.

Being mindful of the beauty of Mother Nature in the winter has helped me to come to appreciate the ice more.  Although I still dread forecasts of wintry mixes, freezing rain, and black ice, my hatred of the ice has lessened.  It has been exciting to capture intriguing aspects of ice including the amazing shapes of icicles, the way that sunlight illuminates and skips across ice, the way that frozen ice in a pond can hold onto the pretty colors of the sky, and even the beauty of broken ice.  While ice is still my winter nemesis, photography has helped me to be mindful of its beauty.
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To readers of this blog:  I am interested in hearing from you about how engaging in an art form (visual art, music, writing, acting) has helped you to see the positive in and appreciate something that you previously and/or continue not to like.   I am also interested in hearing from you about what you like about ice in the winter.   If you feel so inspired, please leave a comment.  I look forward to hearing from you!

Captioning Photography: Personifying Nature

     One way to be mindful and to be fully present in the moment is to look at things from different perspectives.  When we look at an experience, a thought, or an image in a new way, our brains are processing novel information, requiring our full focus and attention.

     For me, the act of captioning my photographs in photosharing sites like Facebook, engages my mind in creative thinking.  Rather than merely labeling my pictures, especially nature photographs with simply the name of the subject (tree, leaf, branch), I enjoy engaging myself and the viewer with a caption that causes the brain to think about the photograph in new and unexpected ways.  This is one of the reasons why I love the commenting feature on Facebook, where friends can post comments about my photographs.  Inevitably, their comments cause me to view my images in new ways, often inspiring new ideas for future pictures.

     While browsing through the captions (and comments) on my photographs the other day, I realized that some of the most thought-provoking comments and captions are ones in which nature is personified.  These captions/comments fall into two categories:  Personifying with Motion and Personifying with Mood. 


Personifying with Motion

When inanimate objects are personified, motion can be invoked from what at first glance appears to be a still picture.  My friend Grace commented on the following picture.

“It’s like they are reaching out to one another to stay warm.”  Now when I view this picture I look for ways in which the branches seek each other out.  When I go outside, I look for ways in which branches seem to be extending their limbs toward one another.


The picture below makes me think of a different type of motion.  One bright sunny spring day, I noticed how these shadows appeared to be playing hide and seek with each other.  The shadow behind the tree appears to be peeking out—ready to pounce on the shadow on the grass.

Personifying animals can also make photographs more engaging.  To me, this was just a pretty picture of a swan in Spy Pond.  Grace’s comments have engaged me more with this photography.  “I like how the swan looks like he/she is investigating all of the stuff in the water.”  Now when I view this picture, I am immediately drawn in, thinking to myself, “What is the swan looking at?  How is the swan’s exploration similar to that of the investigations of a scientist?”    

Personifying with Mood

Another way to bring human characteristics to a still-life nature photograph is by infusing it with mood or emotions. 

What emotions does this picture evoke?

When I originally viewed this photograph, I captioned it, “A lonely fall leaf resting on the cold hard ground.”  To me, this picture evoked feelings of desolation and loneliness.  However, Grace had a completely different take:  “Or it’s the bright spot, still holding on.”  This exchange of comments made me realize that the interpretation of a photograph is not just about the image itself, but rather a combination of the image with what the viewer brings to it.  I’ve always realized that my interpretation of an image can vary depending on my own moods and emotions


What emotions does this picture evoke?

And this one?



When I originally .captioned this picture, I simply stated the obvious:  “Objects frozen in the ice but the warm temperatures are starting to make the ice crack.”  It was my friends’ personifying comments on the photograph that inspired me to view it in a whole new way.  My friend Caroline wrote, “I like this a lot.  It has a violent feeling about it, yet it’s so natural and innocuous at the same time, cool concept.”  Brenda replied, “Caroline and I are actually thinking alike.  It looks a little scary to me as if the ice is cracking, but it’s very artistic.”

Words that accompany photographs as captions can give viewers a new lens through which to view the image.  Personifying pictures of nature can evoke motions and emotions in still-life pictures.  As a result, the viewer can often experience the image in a more engaged and mindful way.


Questions to Ponder:

1.  Have you ever personified nature when outdoors or when viewing an image from nature?   If so, how did that affect the way in which you viewed the experience or the image?

2.  The next time you go outside, view the world through a different lens.  Think about how something from the world outdoors could be personified.  How did this affect your experience?

Life Lessons Through Photography

Today I was outside taking pictures for only five minutes.  However, in that short amount of time I realized two important things about photography that can also be applied to life in general.

1.  You can't always plan on moments of greatness happening but you can prepare for them so that you are ready to seize the opportunity when they present themselves.

This afternoon, I was driving home from an incredible acapella concert, featuring the Yale Whiffenpoofs who will soon appear on NBC's The Sing Off.  The corner of my eye caught a tree whose leaves were illuminated by the late afternoon sun.  (Apparently the tree must not have gotten the same message as the other trees lining the street-- time for your leaves to fall!)  Luckily, I had my camera with me so I pulled my car over to the side of the street and was able to capture this afternoon sunlight on film.  Had I not had my camera, this moment would have passed, sans pictures.

 

2.  Changing perspectives can make the picture look entirely different, just as looking at a situation from a different vantage point can entirely change one's view of a situation.

Taking the same tree, I simply snapped several pictures but from different directions.  This completely changed the way that the light illuminated the leaves, affecting the composition and mood of the pictures.  Some of the vantage points created a neat effect.  In this picture, the silhouette of the house, nicely frames the tree.

In this picture, the angle of the sunlight indicates that the sun is going to be setting soon.  For me, the picture triggers what I feel when the sun sets early on a late fall afternoon.

The perspectives of all three of the above pictures are effective.  Although the pictures are of the same tree, the compositions and moods of the picture change depending on the vantage point.  Not all of the perspectives that I attempted this afternoon were effective. 

For example, in the following photograph, there was too much light and the picture looked overexposed.

This last picture was taken at a perspective where the sunlight created a glare on the windows of the houses lining the street.  The effect that this had on the photographs was that the light reflected from the windows detracts the viewer's attention from the subject of the picture, the tree. 

Questions to Ponder

1.  How can you make sure that you are prepared to seize the opportunity when moments of greatness occur?
2.  When has changing your perspective affected the way that you've viewed a situation?

The Healing Powers of Photography

 With the exception of a few highlights, this past week has been uninspiring and discouraging due to dreary weather, allergic/asthmatic flare-ups, and situations at work.  I had a feeling that taking my camera outside, on the first bright sunny day in over a week, would help to change my outlook.  And indeed it did!

My day started off with decreased breathing capacities and feelings of frustration that my asthma has been impacting recent activities.  Feeling annoyed and somewhat stubborn, rather than hide from Mother Nature, I decided to confront her head on, walking right outside in the midst of trees, grass, and leaves.  I hoped that taking pictures and appreciating the beauty of Fall would act as a peace offering.

For the first ten minutes or so, my shots were pretty uninspired.  Taking pictures head on, the angles were not particularly interesting, I wasn't satisfied with how I was capturing light on film, and the compositions were pretty boring.  And then suddenly, my eyes noticed light hitting the bright yellow leaves on the top of a tree in front of me.  Craning my neck upward, I realized that from this vantage point, the light hit the leaves in a completely different way, creating a very interesting effect.

Looking upward, I also became intrigued by the way that branches of different trees appeared to make patterns in the sky-- connecting with each other in interesting ways.  I thought back to several pictures that I have taken from this perspective.  This photograph came to mind first.

My friend Grace commented that she loved the connectedness of this shot.  I realized that what is interesting about photographs with connected compositions is that your eye keeps moving around the picture.  You brain is engaged in thinking about ways that the parts of the picture interact, inspiring multiple thoughts about the photograph.

Thinking back to this past week, I realized that in multiple ways, I had been feeling very disconnected from activities I love (photography due to the drab weather), from my body (due to my erratic breathing), and at times from my job (due to some discouraging situations).  When feeling disconnected, it is very difficult to feel inspired, to find things interesting, to be engaged.  Same holds true when there is no feeling of connectedness in a photograph-- it can be uninteresting, uninspiring, not engaging. 

Realizing that I had begun taking more connected shots (not by going to a different place) but by changing my vantage point, I decided to try to flip my perspective on my past week.  In my head, I zoomed in on some highlights (student successes, great stories at parent teacher conferences, listening to new acappella songs, and taking great photographs in the present).  I started thinking about all of the highlights in a more connected way, thinking about what they had in common-- how they had made me feel, and why I enjoyed them.  This helped me to start feeling better about the past week.

The problems had not disappeared but my feelings of connectedness were returning.  Feeling connected with Mother Nature and the moment, I started feeling more engaged with the pictures I was taking and as a result became more creative with my photography (the angles, how to best capture the light, how to frame subjects in interesting ways).  The quality of my photographs improved.

In this picture, I zoomed in on the rocky shore along the river...

I took many pictures of what appeared to be a cornfield in the middle of New England until I found an interesting angle...

Just like looking at a "connected" photograph, when I am feeling connected with the moment, fully engaged with what I am doing, I can almost feel the neurons firing rapidly in my brain-- creating new ideas, being creative, approaching situations in new ways.  It is exciting, invigorating, and stimulating.

When I uploaded my pictures on my computer, I releashed my energy once again into cropping my photos to highlight the most interesting and engaging parts of the photographs.  In this picture, I cropped out the dock that I was standing on in order to make the blue of the water and the sky really pop!

In this picture, I thought it was really cool how the tree was reflected in the puddle of water, even though it was more than several feet away from the tree.  In order to highlight this part of the scene, I cropped out many leaves that were scattered in front of the water.

Today, for me, healing meant replenishing my creative energy, bringing back my inspiration, and engaging in a stimulating activity to help me feel more connected.


Questions to Ponder:

1.  What activities are healing for you?
2.  How do those activities help you to heal?
3.  What does healing mean to you?

Rediscovering Photography: My "Flow" Activity

On Saturday, I had the wonderful opportunity to attend a mindfulness workshop through the Karuna School in Lincoln, Massachusetts led by Daniel Rechtschaffen.  He talked about how life moves so quickly.  We get shaken up like snow globes and our minds keep going.  Mindfulness is the practice of letting our minds relax, befriending and taming our minds with discipline and care, with sweet dedication and steadfast determination.

One of the mindfulness practices Daniel discussed and had us practice was meditation.  As an asthmatic, traditional meditation practices of focusing on my breathing often do not work for me.  In fact, they can be some of the most stressful activities!  So I was very excited when Daniel taught us some breathing actvities that linked movements with breathing.  Shifting the attention from the act of breathing allowed me to relax and opened my lungs right up!

Another type of mindfulness Daniel discussed was the mind in motion-- being in the zone as with sports or a favorite activity.  A workshop participant mentioned the idea of "flow" (when one is thoroughly engaged in an activity) which Daniel said was the same idea. 

Photography is a "flow" activity for me.  When I take a camera in my hands and take pictures, especially outside, I become totally absorbed in the momeny-- my focus completely tuned into the light, the shadows, the colors, the composition.

For the past three weeks, there has been no photography.  My computer, sent away to be fixed, has left me without my store of pictures on iphoto.  Last week, my friend Grace called me out on my flimsy excuse for not taking pictures-- telling me that I still had iphoto on the "loaner" computer that I've been using and that I could store my photos on my memory card.  Very true, I thought.  As a result, I've carried my camera with me for the past few days-- without actually using it until early this afternoon.  Something about the bright fire orange red leaves called out to me in the front of my school building....

as well as the last few leaves left dangling on another tree...

Then as I drove to a meeting across town, more magnificent trees called out to me, literally bursting with color.  So I pulled my car over to the side of the road and began snapping again....

Driving home from my meeting, the world seemed suddenly more vibrant.  Inspiration struck and drew me towards one of my favorite spots, a place that I have not visited for far too long, Spy Pond.

You can't get much more New England than this-- rowing crew on a pond with the beautiful fall foliage!

According to Daniel, the world isn't boring.  The world is miraculous and we are the ones who are shut down if we feel bored.  He says that boredom is a smokescreen over the present moment when your connection to the magic of the world is severed.

Until my photography expedition this afternoon, I did not realize how "bored" I've been the last few weeks without my camera.  As Daniel says, "The more mindful you are, the more wonder there is out there."  Driving around this afternoon, the New England fall landscape appeared magical and wondrous.


Questions to Ponder:

1.  What is your "flow" activity?
2.  How do you feel when you're engaged in your "flow activity"?
3.  When do you feel in the zone?

Experimenting and Taking Risks: Keeping Our Craft Fresh

In photography, just like in teaching, some of our best work comes about when we experiment and take risks.  Trying different techniques and new ideas keeps us on our toes and our craft fresh.  Often our minds are more open to new ideas when we are playful and these are the times that we are often at our most creative.

When I take pictures, I like to experiment with light.  I love to see the different ways that light can affect photographs.

1.  Light can have very striking effects on clouds, creating textured pictures in the sky, such as in the picture below:

2.  Light can also highlight the underside of clouds, creating a three-dimensional effect.

3.  Taking pictures at different times of day can affect the lighting in the sky, especially at sunset.  This can result in some very pretty colors that contrast well with dark objects, such as the buildings in this picture:

4.   Light can accentuate a silhouette, highlighting its shape.

5.  Light can also give a picture a dramatic effect, especially the role that it plays with clouds before or after a storm.  The lighting can affect the entire mood of a scene.  In this case, it creates a sense of impending doom that a storm is coming or one of hope that it is leaving.

6.  Light can give a photograph a magical effect when it streams through an object, such as in the picture below:

Light can also create a luminescent effect in a picture:

When the sun hits an object or a scene at a certain angle, shadows are created.  I've also enjoyed experimenting with the role that shadows play in my pictures.



1.  Shadows can add depth to a picture, making it more interesting.

2.  Shadows can become the subject of a picture, especially when they have shapes that engage the viewer.  Look carefully at this picture.  It looks like the shadow on the left of the tree is trying to sneak up on the one on the ground!  Both look kind of scary.

3.  Shadows can also be funny.  (Just think about using your hands to make animal shapes with the light of an overhead projector.)  In this picture, I captured my shadow taking a picture.  For some reason, it looks like I have the head of a clown!

4.  Last, shadows can create striking patterns, giving a photograph texture.  I like how the shadow of the banister creates stripes that look like a flag.

In experimenting with the role of light and shadows in my pictures, I have taken risks with the ways that I frame subjects, the angles at which I shoot pictures, and how I crop my photographs.  Continuing to play around with my techniques keeps my ideas fresh.  Since the environment, the lighting, and the weather are different every time I go outside to take pictures, it is helpful to have a repertoire of different techniques to use.  Similarly, in our classrooms, the environment is different each year-- shaped by our new crop of students.  Having a wide range of techniques and strategies to experiment with helps us to reach the variety of learners in our classrooms and to keep our teaching new and fresh each year.

Questions to Ponder:  How can you take risks and experiment with your art?   How can you tweek a technique that you've been using in your art or in your classsroom to make it different this year-- to make an old idea new?   What risks will you take in your teaching this year?  With what techniques or ideas will you experiment?