July 26, 2020
Photographs from the archives of 2005 finish up with scenes and objects in Ohio, Michigan, and Wisconsin.
1 Before we moved back to Oberlin, we lived next door to this barn and silo.
2 Around the corner, a quarter mile away or so, is an old barn. I have often wondered if that Future Farmer of America stayed on the farm.
3 Further down that road was another, even older, barn.
4 I longed to get closer to it, and finally one day, I did. The hand-hewn beams alone were worth the dare.
5 Not too long after I visited it, the barn was demolished. I often wonder if its owner, across the street, saw me go inside and considered it too dangerous. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to go back.
6 Did J.E.J. put his initials in the barn out of pride? Did someone save this plank?
7 Continuing down the road I saw more history played out in the fences. I wonder how long this one has stood.
9 Heading back home I came upon a gorgeous maple tree on that gorgeous October day.
10 In Michigan for a niece’s wedding, I had some time for photographing before the festivities.
11 In Wisconsin my daughter drove while I played photography out the car window. This is one of my first Intentional Camera Movement images—taken before I knew there was such a thing, and maybe before the term was coined.
12 At Dr. Evermor’s I played with mirrors.
13 This may be part of Dr. Evermor’s Forevertron.
June 8, 2020
It’s been three weeks since the last post, and three weeks since I finally decided not to push my luck with the external hard drive that houses my Lightroom catalog and all my photographs. I had been seeing just too many corrupted files as I was going through the archives. So I have not turned on that drive except to try repairs. My attempts didn’t work, and I’m waiting for an IT person at my former place of employment to get back to me with her suggestions. I have a backup of all but the most recent downloads, so all will not be lost. But still . . .
Meanwhile, here are a few photographs I took around my neighborhood last year that I don’t think I’ve posted and a few more that I downloaded before declaring my drive dangerous to use. Maybe by next week I will have repaired the damaged files and transferred the uncorrupted ones to my new drive. But if I can’t repair them, I have a question for other photographers or techies reading this post: Will cloning corrupted files to a brand-new hard drive hurt the new drive? I have thousands of photographs, and to go through them all to find those that are corrupt would take a bit of time. If you’d rather not put your recommendations in the comments section, you may used the email form in the About section of this blog.
1 Tree reflected in Buttonbush Vernal Pool, May 5, 2019
2 Ghosts on Wildflower Hill, June 15, 2019
3 Waterlily leaves in Meadow Pond, May 3, 2020
4 The last—for a while—sunset through bare branches, May 7, 2020
5 Dumpster discovered in the groundskeeping area of our community
6 The side of the dumpster in full sun
7 Another side of the dumpster
8 Detail of an untitled sculpture by Forbes Whiteside on the Kendal at Oberlin grounds
November 10, 2019
Fall color was past its prime by the time I got out to Schoepfle Garden October 29. Still, some lovely remnants remained. Besides photographing them as is, I played around with intentional camera movement (ICM) again. That I took the fourth photo here is thanks to Steve Schwartzman, who asked in the comments section of the last post, “In any of these, did you zoom your lens while you moved the camera?” I had not, but at Steve’s prompt, I tried it on this trip. Will try it again. What fun.
October 27, 2019
To close out the photographs taken in Wisconsin this summer, here are four experiments in intentional camera movement (ICM). That is, the first four are Wisconsin; the others, from the archives, are Ohio and Florida.
June 16, 2019
Yesterday I followed and unfollowed paths around my immediate neighborhood. I found baby oak leaves overlooking tall grasses; a willow tree behind goldenrod plants and before cattails sprinkled with pseudacris; a path through a wooded area dotted with daisies; very young films of Leptothrix discophora, some in front of a small outcrop of sedge; a duckweed-covered pond rising to meet hanging branches of another oak tree; and more duckweed in a different pond in the rain. I also took another stab at Intentional Camera Movement.
June 9, 2019
It’s happened again: the feeling that I’ve gone stale, taken my life’s quota of decent photographs, and all that’s left is to repeat myself. It doesn’t help that we’ve had so much rain that I can’t even get close to the river, let alone walk across it to the other side, where all the good photographs are. (You may recall the fence on the other side of which the grass is always greener.) I was in Schoepfle Garden yesterday hoping to discover something. I was prepared to try intentional camera movement if nothing came along. And it didn’t. ICM is always a crapshoot (think of the ways you can read that word). So when I downloaded, I didn’t expect to find a lot of treasures. But I did think I’d find a few. What I found was very few—so I tried going black and white with the best ones. The B&Ws may be my favorites. I wonder what you think. I also wonder if it will ever stop raining long enough for me to get next to the river. I need to get out of this slump . . . maybe a completely new location . . . or is that the fence with the greener grass on the other side, too . . .
December 3, 2017
Scroll down to see a photograph of this banyan tree without Intentional Camera Movement and other manipulation.
December 2, 2017
December 1, 2017
November 30, 2017
November 29, 2017
November 28, 2017
November 27, 2017
November 26, 2017
November 25, 2017
The series of photographs that ended yesterday with The Blind 11 began—as do so many things—serendipitously. I was looking on my computer for older photos that I’d taken with Intentional Camera Movement, ones I had passed up in their day. I’d had so much fun a few weeks earlier, playing with the Pennsylvania landscape, that I wanted more of it. In searching for the older ICM photos I bumped into the first two photographs of the designs that blinds make on walls and ceilings. Then I remembered other photographs I’d taken of blinds designs and kept going. Meanwhile I also played with the old ICM photos. Here’s the first of the new batch. All were taken in Gulf Coast Florida.
November 4, 2017
Six. That’s all I was going to process and post of my drive-by landscape shootings. But I was having too much fun. At the risk of not quitting while I was ahead, here is another.
November 3, 2017
November 2, 2017
November 1, 2017
October 31, 2017
October 30, 2017
October 29, 2017
One of the advantages a passenger has over a driver is being able to take photographs while the vehicle is moving. I took the opportunity on the drive back to the farmhouse from Ohiopyle State Park. Intentional Camera Movement is a crapshoot, and it’s fun to see what small treasures are caught in the net of mostly deletable photographs when whizzing past the landscape with camera set to slow shutter speed. Tweaking the images in Lightroom and Photoshop completes the lark.
Update, Later in the Day
Adrian says he likes the black and white. Lynn says she wants to see the color. Well, I really didn’t like the natural color, so below the B&W is a compromise image, put through Nik’s Color Efex filter (as are several others in this series).
March 18, 2017
March 17, 2017
It had been a while since I’d tried some Intentional Camera Movement, so when Lynda and I were at the Venice Myakka River Park, I played with the leaves a bit.