photography

World of Disney

My wife’s family is a true Disney Familyâ„¢ – the kind that go to Disney World in Orlando, Florida, every two years. Like clockwork. 

It is a nice break from the cold Michigan winters, and a good way to burn off all those holiday calories. My daily step count, at minimum, triples when we’re walking the parks. 

This year we had COVID to worry about, but Disney handles the pandemic crowd with clear expectations. Everyone is on their best behavior in the Most Magical Place on Earth.

For me, there are parts of Disney World that I love to photograph. The Africa and Asia sections of Animal Kingdom, for instance, or the optimistic futurism of Epcot, my personal favorite park. The Florida sun helps the bright colors and faux landscape truly shine. This year, the weather was perfect every day, and I checked off sites on my photography bucket list again this year. 

Yes, the Mexico pavilion is a fake Aztec temple, and yes, the art deco architecture at Hollywood Studio is a rose-tinted reproduction of Hollywood’s glory days. But I tend to photograph light and shadow as much as the scenery in front of me. Even if the background is Disney Fake, the light is real. That sunrise and sunset are real. The people moving through the parks are all real. 

We go to Disney World to escape. For me, one reason I go is to focus on my photography – something that usually takes a hit during the winter. 


Real Winter

Real Winter

It’s nice to have real winter weather – freezing cold, snowy, and a bit sunny – instead of our as-of-late damp and cloudy winters.

Working from home, I appreciate looking out on lovely January day. 


At Year’s End

At Year's End

Is there a word for “guilt over not making something?” I’m sure there’s a German word out there that expresses this sentiment perfectly: That feeling of remorse for not making or doing anything in a while. 

There’s productivity guilt, but that’s not exactly the same thing. I’m talking hobbies and interests, not work. 

Here at the year’s end, that’s been me. Sure, I make photographs all the time. But I feel guilty for not having any big projects in the works. I have ideas, but I always have ideas.

Instead, I have to tell myself it’s okay to take a break. Recharge my batteries. Start anew.

My bet is that once I start again, it’ll be hard to stop. 

Have a great, safe holiday season and a very happy new year.


Cancún

We don’t take vacations like this – so sunny and so tropical.

But when a friend turned 40 and invited us to a trip to Cancún, Mexico, with a group to celebrate, we enthusiastically came along. The warm Mayan Riviera climate when Michigan is facing down another long, cold, gray winter? Count us in.

Then the friend got COVID, and the rest of the couples bailed and took the trip credit for next year, leaving just us two. 

We never did get a honeymoon. This is as good of a chance as any.

There were reservations about airplane travel across an international border. We had to leave the kids for six days just as Michigan’s COVID-19 numbers were spiking. And after my grandmother passed away and we took on a kitchen remodel project, we were leaving an awful lot of undone. 

In the end, it was well worth it. The resort community in Cancún took guest health and safety very seriously (even wearing masks on a windy beach – a bit overkill if you ask me). We did all the adventuring we could fit in a few days, and we took advantage of quiet, warm beach days to simply breathe and enjoy the view. Cancún was a mix of old and new that was a lot of fun to explore with my camera – from the Mayan ruins to downtown Playa del Carmen’s shopping district, with a lot of peninsular jungle in between. Plus lots of tequila.

Maybe this tropical stuff isn’t so bad. 


Wet October

We’ve had a very wet October.

So wet, in fact, that our street flooded on a rainy Friday evening. We got back from a family gathering and there was a city worker out in the street, knee-deep in water, clearing out the storm drain. 

“It’s like this all over town,” he told me.

When the leaves fall, they clog those drains, and with all the rain we’ve had, it was a recipe for a river.

After one rainstorm, everything was glistening and damp in the yard, so I headed outside with the trusty Nifty 50mm to grab a few photos. 


iPhone 13 mini Photography

The way we treat our phones now, I supposed getting my iPhone 13 mini was like getting a new camera. 

So I took it for a spin on a sunny Sunday in late September, a few days after receiving it in the mail. And just as I figured, it was just as my iPhone SE was: a camera. Simple.

The new wide-angle lens on this iPhone is fun to play around with, but it’s not really my style. I’m more of a 35-50mm guy. Having that wide of a view may be good for landscapes and dramatic shots with fun angles, but it doesn’t fit my photography. In fact, I wish the mini iPhones had the Pros’ telephoto lens instead. I’d use that much more. 

That said, I may be able to use the nifty portrait settings on the front-facing camera to try out some people shots. Here’s me with a fresh haircut:

Me

Not bad, considering the subject. The fake bokeh is pleasant, but the high-key options are a bit garish. 

The only thing I’m missing now is a tried-and-true photo editing app on the iPhone. My beloved Filmborn is MIA from the App store, VSCO is a confusing mess, and that leaves RNI Films and Darkroom in my list of go-to editing apps.

Any suggestions? 


Last Go-Around

In these waning days of summer, we took a walk to the nearby elementary school. This one was built in 1952, but a brand-new school just went up next door, so the old one sits empty. Out with the old, etc.

Personally, I love the look and feel of these mid-century schools – the way they used green space, and their institutional sturdiness. The new school is all shiny metal and modern touches, though the larger parking lot will be a nice change.

It had me thinking about my iPhone SE, the 2016 first-gen model based on the iPhone 5S body design. I’ve had this phone for five years now and used the ever-loving heck out of it. It’s survived two jobs, a new kid, and a new house, along with everything else I’ve thrown at it.

But today I ordered the iPhone 13 mini – not for any of its fancy new features, including the new camera system. It’s mostly because I need the extra storage space; 256 GB will get me a lot farther than my current 64 GB does. 

The truth is, my iPhone SE camera works just fine. I point, I shoot, I edit a little bit (using mostly Filmborn these days – which may be abandoned software), and I post. Maybe I’ll enjoy using the ultra-wide lens on the 13, maybe I’ll find a use for those studio lighting settings, or maybe not. Maybe I’ll continue to use my iPhone camera like I do my other Canon cameras: simply, with no fuss. 

I will miss the SE’s classic design and small size, and Touch ID. But five years is a lot of value out of a modern-day device. 

Nothing lasts forever. 


Greatest Hits

Shadows Take Their Toll

When your favorite band or musicians compiles a greatest hits album, it’s usually a collection of their singles and fan favorites. Over a long career, a productive band or artist will have enough singles to make a good greatest hits record. Take Genesis or the Temptations – multi-decade output combined with hit singles makes for a representation of the artists’ career. 

Now, a greatest hits album may not include your favorite song from that musical act’s portfolio. For me, “Supper’s Ready” is my go-to Genesis song, but it’s not considered a “greatest hit” on their album. Too long or too weird, I imagine.

How about for visual artistic output? How does one compile a list of “greatest hits” in photography, painting, or video work? Do you pick your favorites, or someone else’s favorites?

Brooks Jensen at LensWork had me thinking about my own work, and what I would consider my best pictures. In fact, I recently submitted a few images to Flickr’s World Photography Day contest. I had to think about what are my best people and nature images, out of all the hundreds and maybe thousands I’ve taken over the years. It was a tough exercise, combing through and wondering, what are my “greatest hits?”

Do I pick the popular images? Or the ones I consider to be my best? If I start picking my favorites, it could be a random picture of one of my kids, one that I hold dearly in my heart. 

It’s the same if you’ve ever had to develop a portfolio of images to share with others: your best wedding photographs, or your top artistic representations. How do you pick? 

Like musicians, it could be a combination of popularity along with your own personal tastes that make a “greatest hits” collection. If the Rolling Stones don’t want to play a popular song, they leave it off the playlist – no sense in spending effort on a song for which the band has no passion, right?

Looking at photography and our best-of list, we can use the same metric to guide us: what do people like? What do I like, too? 

There’s your list. 


Return of the County Fair

Some things are coming back, and it feels good.

Even though our local county fair has a new layout, and even if I was a bit nervous being around so many people, I used the return of our fair as a photo walk.

Over the years, the county fair has been one of my favorite photography subjects: the bright colors, the summer haze, the motion, and the prime people watching. For one night, we did the family outing, and for the other night, I went by myself to concentrate on photography.

I took my trusty Canon 5D and three lenses – 20mm, 50mm, and 100mm – to add some variety. In the end, I wound up mostly using the reliable 50mm, but the 100mm allowed me to get some people shots from a (social) distance.

It was a hot, sweaty night, as it usually is in August, full of fried smells and flashing lights. 


Edge of Creation

Living in Michigan, no matter where you are in the state, you’re never more than an hour or two away from one of the Great Lakes.

Our proximity to these bodies of water inspires so many of our summer family vacations. This year, we went north to the Traverse City and Leelanau Peninsula region. We love our Door County, Wisconsin vacations so much that we wanted a similar experience this summer. With its apple and cherry orchards, numerous lakes, and varied landscape, the peninsula provided everything we look for in a holiday. 

Despite the rain, we had a great vacation – a great mix of playing outdoors, relaxing by the lake, and exploring M-22 and the Sleeping Bear Dunes.

A funny thing happened at the world-renowned dunes: we visited during a particularly foggy day, where all of Lake Michigan was enshrouded in a heavy vapor. From the top of the dunes, you couldn’t see the lake at all.

We all looked on in amazement. It’s like we were staring at the edge of creation – down the dunes, you would fall off the end of the world.

Luckily, further north along the dunes, we did find a place to sit on the beach and swim in Lake Michigan.

Our state is fairly average in almost every way – except the scenery. If this is the edge of the world, we’re happy to be here. 


Nostalgiapalooza

What is it about nostalgia that is so attractive?

While it’s a bittersweet emotion, nostalgia can be used to “counteract loneliness, boredom, and anxiety.” Think of that feeling you get when you flip through an old photo album, or listen to a favorite album. Nostalgia, while wistful, helps you think of good memories. It’s grounding, and gives you roots.

Maybe that’s why I’ve been on a nostalgiafest here lately. In the past year, I’ve made a point to relive things from my past that, at one point, I knew I loved. The feeling is especially strong with movies: I watched (and continue to watch) a ton of movies growing up. Now, I’m revisiting those late ’80s and early ’90s films that I watched over and over again (and haven’t watched since), primarily comedy classics like Major League, Funny Farm, and Naked Gun. For one, they’re funny, and those movies brighten my mood.

And two, I have great feelings associated with those 30-year old films. With the pandemic and all the anxiety surrounding it, it’s nice to dip into the past and relive something that’s fun and frivolous. 

It’s the same with classic books – Frog and Toad with the kids, say – and albums. I’m even browsing through my Lightroom catalog from years past and scrolling through my iPhone photo library to remember the times when I took a ton of pictures. Remember that? 

I think about that scene in Inside Out where the memory globes become bi-colored – both joyful and sad. Memories are rarely pure joy or pure sadness. Nostalgic feelings, especially, have twinges of melancholy with the feel-good moments. 

That’s how I feel: a little good, a little crummy. So I’m feeding that with nostalgia in all its forms. 

Right now, I need the familiar. 


Forty

It’s not so bad, turning 40.

Mostly, I still feel like I’m in my early to mid 30s. Thirty – now THAT birthday felt monumental: buying a new house, switching jobs. A lot changed that year.

This year? We’re still stuck in a pandemic. I’ve felt on hold for the last 12 months. Maybe I can just skip this birthday?

No, of course not. But mentally, I’m not 40. Perhaps it’s denial. Halfway through life, I feel like I’ve done a tremendous amount of things. Knowing me, I’ve got many more projects on the horizon.

Like my “Thirty Six” project. I just remembered I have that one still unfinished. Time to look through some film photos from four years ago…

 


Michigan On Ice

Sunshine, a great lake, and lots of fresh air – we needed it.

After Jaime and I took a trip to South Haven a few winters ago, we swore we had to come back. To see that heaved ice hanging onto the shoreline, to see that frost-encrusted lighthouse again. Maybe grab another beloved shot of strangers trudging through the cold.

The lakeshore is like another planet: a mix of sand and ice, and off in the distance an unfrozen lake. The ice in the pier heaved, like the lake was breathing – a living, swelling mass of ice.

I brought along my seldom-used Tamron 24-135mm zoom lens to give it some exercise. I’m usually a prime guy, but with scenery like this, I wanted to be prepared for whatever came up.

We dragged the kids along with the grandparents with us, too. The children were constantly on a precipice: one slip, and we’d lose them to what felt like the void. 

On the ride home, we could’ve all fallen asleep. We were tuckered out. All that cold and fresh air did us good. 


Show the Work

Show the Work

I love a good, old-fashioned photography blog. Flickr is great, Instagram is mostly trash, Twitter still has some good photography sharing – but a blog? That’s a place I can visit when I want that’s dedicated to the craft.

Take a simple photography blog like Just a Little Patience. Super simple design, minimal text – it’s a place where Johnny Patience shares a lovely picture and a location or a quote. Nothing else. Photos, one after the other. 

Because I’m a writer and a photographer, Patrick LaRoque’s blog appeals to me too: it goes deeper, with updates, thoughts, and (plenty of) opinions on the state of the world, the photography business, and his family. 

My heart goes to blogs like Just a Little Patience because I appreciate its minimalism. It lets the photos speak for themselves. But my head says I have to do the essay-for-every-photo format. My blog has landed somewhere in the middle, but either way, it’s the sharing part that’s important.

Show your work. Talk about it if you want, but above all, put it out there. 

 


Remodel

We couldn’t wait any longer.

In March, we planned on remodeling our bedroom. And boy, did it need it: wood paneling, dark, drop ceiling. In all fairness to the previous owners, it used to be a back porch. Then it became a bedroom, but that was decades ago. Now it’s our turn to make it right.

Why not start now? We need something lighter and sunnier in our lives right now. Sure, it means we have to sleep in our breezeway for the time being. It means contractors in the house, with their noise and drywall dust. But we’re considering this project our early Christmas present.

Everything is harder these days. My photography has certainly taken a hit. I feel it in my bones – a kind of creator’s guilt, ever-present. Not much blogging, not much newsletter-ing, not much of anything. With the pandemic and the post-election stress, it’s been hard to wake up in the morning, let alone take photos.

Now we have a new look to our bedroom, and with the light coming in, it felt like a good excuse to get out the camera and document the progress.

So here it is, in all it’s sheetrock glory.