Wolf and I browse Art Wolfe's collection of photos in Alaska.
"Some of these shots are amazing," he confides, "but some are just kinda nice. Not like Jim Brandenburg, where all the shots are incredible."
I'm thinking the exact same thing. "Mmm," I agree. "Art Wolfe shows the way things appear. Brandenburg shows the way they really are. Their true selves. Their secret selves."
What makes that distinction? Its the same difference as the description of someone in their alumni profile vs. a story their best friend would share about them. I'm reminded of Robert Pirsig's pursuit of "Quality" in Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance.
That's my relentless quest when I woo the world through my lens. I want to know the world the way I want to be known. I want that lover's intimate understanding of the heart and spirit at stake, and the skill to translate that onto paper and pass it on.
A photograph-- however beautiful, however technically brilliant-- is silent without its secret story to make it sing.
Friday, August 31, 2007
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Creative Blogger
Mark over at The Green Fingered Photographer just honored this Most Noble and Honourable Gypsy the Splendid of Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch with the Creative Blogger Award. *SWOON!* It's PURPLE!!!!!!!!!!!
Mark, a green-hearted photographer, has given his business the greatest name: Dragons and Damsels Wildlife Photography. He has great shots, in particular, of dragonflies and damselflies.
So now the fun part (rubbing hands together). This round of Creative Blogger Awards goes to:
The Film Geek, who directs me with surety through a cinematographic wilderness, slams me with eloquent truth when I least expect it, and understands that I wasn't STALKING John Cusack that day in NYC...
DC Comictician on Star Trekiology. Elvis and I dance on opposite theological extremes--I'm on fire for Jesus, he's an atheist (I assume)-- but we agree, the religious right has twisted Christianity into a poisonous political pawn (and a big fat hairy lie), and he's extremely creative expressing it.
The Wandering Wolf. His blog is sparse (and here's hoping that'll change) but his photography website is rich. And when tells you he's not creative, pull out the salt shaker.
The Cy Blog. While I prefer the old title, "Blogging for Burgers," Cy still serves up the same hilarity, good sense, investment wisdom and construction tips well-seasoned with insanity. Cy, I hope you are surviving the gigantic man-eating bears that can only be killed with advanced weaponry. Come back soon!
Geoffrey Chaucer Hath a Blog. Chaucer and his posse don't write often but their posts are worth the wait. I hope Thomas scrounged up the "moneyes to buye a newe blakberrie (for his hath been y-swiped by the Frensshe)"
Mark, a green-hearted photographer, has given his business the greatest name: Dragons and Damsels Wildlife Photography. He has great shots, in particular, of dragonflies and damselflies.
So now the fun part (rubbing hands together). This round of Creative Blogger Awards goes to:
The Film Geek, who directs me with surety through a cinematographic wilderness, slams me with eloquent truth when I least expect it, and understands that I wasn't STALKING John Cusack that day in NYC...
DC Comictician on Star Trekiology. Elvis and I dance on opposite theological extremes--I'm on fire for Jesus, he's an atheist (I assume)-- but we agree, the religious right has twisted Christianity into a poisonous political pawn (and a big fat hairy lie), and he's extremely creative expressing it.
The Wandering Wolf. His blog is sparse (and here's hoping that'll change) but his photography website is rich. And when tells you he's not creative, pull out the salt shaker.
The Cy Blog. While I prefer the old title, "Blogging for Burgers," Cy still serves up the same hilarity, good sense, investment wisdom and construction tips well-seasoned with insanity. Cy, I hope you are surviving the gigantic man-eating bears that can only be killed with advanced weaponry. Come back soon!
Geoffrey Chaucer Hath a Blog. Chaucer and his posse don't write often but their posts are worth the wait. I hope Thomas scrounged up the "moneyes to buye a newe blakberrie (for his hath been y-swiped by the Frensshe)"
Your Latent Nobility
Are you convinced of your own nobility? Need credibility to convince the rest of the universe?
click here. And tell us the results!
Posted by Her Imperial Majesty Gypsy the Mirthful of Old Yarkhillshire.
click here. And tell us the results!
Posted by Her Imperial Majesty Gypsy the Mirthful of Old Yarkhillshire.
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Brought to you by Deepest Space
I play around tonight taking the tutorial and test at Galaxy Zoo. Too COOL! Scientist recognize that humans are far more adept identifying patterns than computers (go figure). They are enlisting mere mortals such as you and I to map out the universe. After a short interactive introduction, you take a fun test. If you've paid attention, you'll pass. You're then qualified to help ID unknown galaxies far far away.
On another note, whoever created this video has time on his hands-- and a great sense of humor. I guess we need UFO debunkers along with galaxy identifiers, so the real UFOs don't lose credibility. Enjoy!
Me, I'm off to to check Area 51 Cam....
On another note, whoever created this video has time on his hands-- and a great sense of humor. I guess we need UFO debunkers along with galaxy identifiers, so the real UFOs don't lose credibility. Enjoy!
Me, I'm off to to check Area 51 Cam....
Glacier's Echo: Tiny Pretty Things
glacier's deep echo
pebble, in boulder's embrace
"you've got your mom's eyes!"
"you've got your mom's eyes!"
Photo Upload Update, Pageant Reflecting
Now live:
Sunday Kiddie Tractor Pull
Miss Jefferson County Pageant
This Gypsy's no fan of beauty pageants. But one of my most diligent horsemanship students enters the Pageant this year, with no training or experience.
"I'm tired of not doing things because they're different, or they make me nervous," she confides.
Way to go, kiddo. THAT'S reason enough for anything.
She carries herself like a queen....
Sunday Kiddie Tractor Pull
Miss Jefferson County Pageant
This Gypsy's no fan of beauty pageants. But one of my most diligent horsemanship students enters the Pageant this year, with no training or experience.
"I'm tired of not doing things because they're different, or they make me nervous," she confides.
Way to go, kiddo. THAT'S reason enough for anything.
She carries herself like a queen....
Ambushing the Eclipse
This morning
My alarm and I conspire
To ambush the Eclipse
She glimpses our shadowstalking and leaps
Through an open window into the clouds
Joining the sunrise
Waving urgently
Crying:
"Goodbye! Goodbye!"
My alarm and I conspire
To ambush the Eclipse
She glimpses our shadowstalking and leaps
Through an open window into the clouds
Joining the sunrise
Waving urgently
Crying:
"Goodbye! Goodbye!"
Monday, August 27, 2007
Photo Upload Update: Saddles and Smiles
The horse show included classes for the special needs riders of Saddles and Smiles, an extremely popular local Therapeutic Riding organization. Horses spark an unfathomable alchemy deep in our primordial selves. The horses bring out new strengths and miracles in the kids. The kids bring out new strengths and miracles in the volunteers. Not a soul walks away untouched.
Photos from the classes are now online.
Photos from the classes are now online.
Photo Upload Update: Lawnmower Races
Carving through fair photos is the focus of the next few days. I just put up the pictures from the lawnmower races. Can I tell you, while I was watching I got the overwhelming urge to join in. Those babies can boogie!
Sunday, August 26, 2007
Redneck Ger
As we unload the PVC lattice this afternoon, I wonder anew... can I make it into a quick-n-dirty strong-n-sturdy ger?
Striking the Fair
The alarum lets me sleep til 8 this morning and wakes me with the welcome promise of a routine day. I gaze out the window where an emerald explosion shatters the sunshine-- the same rains which wreaked such devastation resurrected my pastureland.
I mosey into the green morning towards church for the first time in a month--yippee!--pausing on the way for fast food breakfast. Coffee, Dr. Pepper, coffee, Dr. Pepper... the rising heat makes the decision for me. Beelining for the soda machine, I'm stopped by a hesitant voice, and a long-lost acquaintance. I'm impressed--its been close to 7 years, and we didn't really know each other that well to begin with. I sure wouldn't have recognized her.
Sandy blogged about thin lines recently, the thin lines connecting us all. I think of them as threads. Perhaps a thread will remain single. Even so, it will add color and texture to your life. But more often than not, that single thread entwines with others to create the epic tapestries that are our lives. I don't know why this particular thread returns to the pattern just now. Far be it from me to waste time wondering when I could be weaving. We exchange contact info and head back into the day.
Afternoon and we're at the fairgrounds for the last time, striking the booth. I take some shots before Tink arrives to remember how it looked.
Amazing how we had no plan, no attachment to outcome beyond "effective", and yet from nothing, something grew and continued growing. That something was home base for a whole week and worked better than anything we could have planned. This is the way life works, yet my astonishment and delight in that truth never cease.
In less than 2 hours the trucks are loaded. The nearly-empty building echoes with finality. And with that, life returns to normal. Whatever that means!
I mosey into the green morning towards church for the first time in a month--yippee!--pausing on the way for fast food breakfast. Coffee, Dr. Pepper, coffee, Dr. Pepper... the rising heat makes the decision for me. Beelining for the soda machine, I'm stopped by a hesitant voice, and a long-lost acquaintance. I'm impressed--its been close to 7 years, and we didn't really know each other that well to begin with. I sure wouldn't have recognized her.
Sandy blogged about thin lines recently, the thin lines connecting us all. I think of them as threads. Perhaps a thread will remain single. Even so, it will add color and texture to your life. But more often than not, that single thread entwines with others to create the epic tapestries that are our lives. I don't know why this particular thread returns to the pattern just now. Far be it from me to waste time wondering when I could be weaving. We exchange contact info and head back into the day.
Afternoon and we're at the fairgrounds for the last time, striking the booth. I take some shots before Tink arrives to remember how it looked.
Amazing how we had no plan, no attachment to outcome beyond "effective", and yet from nothing, something grew and continued growing. That something was home base for a whole week and worked better than anything we could have planned. This is the way life works, yet my astonishment and delight in that truth never cease.
In less than 2 hours the trucks are loaded. The nearly-empty building echoes with finality. And with that, life returns to normal. Whatever that means!
Saturday, August 25, 2007
Farewell Fair
Well, its over.
I am beyond exhausted. My ears still ring from tractors/ monster trucks/ lawnmowers/ antique engines/etc. I've snuck into places I shouldn't be, had conversations I should've already had, reveled in moments that will only magnify, and wished I'd jimmied open more doors to walk through. I've hung with bullriders and politicians and politicians who are bullriders. My alarum clock has thrown its hands up in disgust and walked out on the job in frustration as many times as I would've gladly thrown temper tantrums if I'd had an ounce of energy. Well over 2000 pictures patiently wait for review and uploading.
We've gone through days of chill and rain, we've pushed 100 and swum in outrageous humidity, today we pulled through the likes of a tornado.
I've been fantasizing about pitching a tent in some wilderness--the only soul for miles.
...Yet tonight there's a lump in my throat as I leave--is this ALL?
I am beyond exhausted. My ears still ring from tractors/ monster trucks/ lawnmowers/ antique engines/etc. I've snuck into places I shouldn't be, had conversations I should've already had, reveled in moments that will only magnify, and wished I'd jimmied open more doors to walk through. I've hung with bullriders and politicians and politicians who are bullriders. My alarum clock has thrown its hands up in disgust and walked out on the job in frustration as many times as I would've gladly thrown temper tantrums if I'd had an ounce of energy. Well over 2000 pictures patiently wait for review and uploading.
We've gone through days of chill and rain, we've pushed 100 and swum in outrageous humidity, today we pulled through the likes of a tornado.
I've been fantasizing about pitching a tent in some wilderness--the only soul for miles.
...Yet tonight there's a lump in my throat as I leave--is this ALL?
Thursday, August 23, 2007
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
Today: The Short Version Pt. 1
I realize one thing I don't want to be when I grow up: a cow show photographer. Now, cows are beautiful and I'm a big fan of steak and ice cream, but the shows moove so udderly slowly.... Not that I blame the cows, some are so full they are leaking milk and can barely get their legs around their udders. Marching with alacrity is well outside the range of possibility.
I meander down to the Kiddie Tractor Pull, which is always a hoot. The kids ride a pedal tractor hooked to an itty-bitty stoneboat, which increases the weight as the kids forge ahead. Everyone gets really into it, and it makes for great photo fodder.
All the same, nothing much is going on tonight. I'm really dragging, and thinking the highest and best use of a slow evening is editing pictures and catching up on sleep.
As I head back to the car, the band starts up. It's a ticketed show, and I really don't feel that kind of commitment. I pull a few shots from afar, then move in closer. No one stops me, so I pull a few more, and go into the wings of the grandstand. No one stops me so I scamper into a primo spot in the covered grandstand.
The band is Poverty Neck Hillbillies, and boy, do they love their audience. The lead singer mills through the stands, working the crowd, then calls their devoted fans into the quagmire in front of the grandstand. Heck with commitment--in a heartbeat I'm down on the stage and the drummer is grinning into my camera.
I meander down to the Kiddie Tractor Pull, which is always a hoot. The kids ride a pedal tractor hooked to an itty-bitty stoneboat, which increases the weight as the kids forge ahead. Everyone gets really into it, and it makes for great photo fodder.
All the same, nothing much is going on tonight. I'm really dragging, and thinking the highest and best use of a slow evening is editing pictures and catching up on sleep.As I head back to the car, the band starts up. It's a ticketed show, and I really don't feel that kind of commitment. I pull a few shots from afar, then move in closer. No one stops me, so I pull a few more, and go into the wings of the grandstand. No one stops me so I scamper into a primo spot in the covered grandstand.
The band is Poverty Neck Hillbillies, and boy, do they love their audience. The lead singer mills through the stands, working the crowd, then calls their devoted fans into the quagmire in front of the grandstand. Heck with commitment--in a heartbeat I'm down on the stage and the drummer is grinning into my camera.
Slow Morning
Slow morning, and much needed, that. I’m editing pictures and exchanging pleasantries with passers-by. Some folks are shocked into flight when I say “good morning.” Their eyes explode with that deer-in-the-headlights look and they spook towards the door. Others leap at the chance for conversation. Exhibitors I’ve befriended over the last few days pop in to say hi. The attorney general stops in to talk about future photography projects.
In the meantime, I'm slowly but surely getting Fair Pictures online.
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