Distractions, heartache, illness, adversity, hardship, tragedy. How do we move on? How do we move beyond? How do we achieve inner calm? Do we ever?
Remove clutter,
reflect,
focus,
forge ahead.
____________________
We can at least try.
Category: best sellers
“Sagittarius Fire” —Zodiac sign November 22 – December 21
The sun transits Sagittarius (the Archer)
between November 22 and December 21.
According to astrological belief, Sagittarius,
as well as Aries and Leo, are considered fire signs.
Generally, people with these signs search for things
that light them up, that create passion. They are
prone to sudden flashes of insight and enthusiasm.
This photo was taken in Montauk about 11:00 pm several summers ago in late August. The constellation Sagittarius is square in the middle. By connecting the stars and overlaying the mythological archer, this is what you get:
The Sagittarius artwork was created by Johan Meuris and accompanies Stellarium, the free and open source planetarium software. The image was released under The Free Art License. My son, Nick, helped me take the photo.
The silhouettes backlit by the moon river initially drew me to the scene. We shot it in color with a four-second exposure, camera on a tripod. I converted it to black and white and retained the amber of the fire and the glow on the faces. It was only after I produced the image that I figured out the prominent constellation hovering above the gathering.
“Visitor in Red” —a photo as enduring as a tugboat
When I photograph, I work a shot from many angles until I get a “sensation” that when I press the shutter release, I captured the spirit of the scene that originally caught my attention. I don’t analyze each composition as I frame a shot. It’s more intuitive. It’s more by “feel.” And if I choose to print an image, it’s rare that I know an image has staying power. So when I first printed “Visitor in Red,” I made it a limited edition of 8o, in addition to a few artist’s proofs.
This scene was shot the day before St. Patrick’s Day (2007) in Northport, NY. I was walking my dog in the park about mid-day as it started to snow. I heard and felt a subtle rumbling. I turned my eyes to the harbor. This red tugboat was making its way toward the docks. I put my dog in the car, got my camera, and photographed the tug for about 40 minutes as it maneuvered to tie up and settle in. I got all angles, but this is the one I chose to produce.
After seven years, the photo still sells. Like a tug, the image has pulling power. I’ve heard from viewers they had a red tugboat as a child. Or their grandfather worked on tugs. Or they love Northport and this is a scene they’ve never witnessed. And so forth.
In my constant search to understand why an image resonates with some of us, I’d like to explore the composition and give a shot at interpreting it.
Composition
Color. With the exception of the red tug, the color palette of this photo is subdued green, brown, and yellow. This lends for a dramatic contrast imparted by the tug.
Leading lines. Implied lines are those created by visually connecting like elements as if one were “connecting the dots,” or stars in a constellation. I see three series of lines in the photo. One set, the pilings, directs your eyes to alongside the tug. The lit lanterns, from left to right, take you directly to the tug. All this under the four seagulls, which if “connected,” cups the scene, as if a visual canopy.
Balance. Although the tug is off to the right, it is visually balanced by the receding line of the lanterns’ yellow glow. I don’t think I’d get the same sense of equilibrium had the lanterns been off.
Interpretation
It’s probably what a tugboat represents that contributes to the appeal of this photo. There’s authenticity in the design of a tug. They are designed and built for utility. Function trumps fashion, trend, or vogue, to the point where “utilitarian” becomes an attractive look itself (as long as it’s for real).
A tug is designed to pull and push large barges and ships in all kinds of weather. Its purpose requires dedication, reliability, strength, persistence, and a courageous crew—all traits we respect and perhaps identify with.
A simple portrait of a moored tugboat may evoke similar interpretations. But I think such a portrait needs to be in an interesting composition, or visual milieu, to render an image as enduring as the tug itself.
“Lighthouse Café” —a social arrangement
Early one spring several years back, I was arranging a barbecue on Wincoma Beach, Huntington, NY, near my sister’s home. We were inviting some artist friends from Connecticut, Long Island, and New Jersey. I wanted to show them the view before their arrival.
This photo emerged after two evenings of shooting, the last evening using a tripod. I wanted the light reflections of the lighthouse and the red buoy to appear in the photo. However, they were out-of-sync, so i needed to leave the lens open for awhile—30 seconds was sufficient. It all worked out, for the shot is at dusk—low light—which requires a long exposure. A long exposure meant a small aperture. This in turn resulted in great depth-of-field—sharp focus from the foreground to background. AND, I got my two reflected columns of light.
I like this photo primarily because the three chairs face one-another in a magical setting. I’ve seen dozens of paintings and photos of a single sea-side chair facing the water. This is always a contemplative, reflective, introspective type shot, one I’ve always appreciated. But what sets this image apart is the communal arrangement of the chairs. It creates more of a social setting.
The horizon reveals the Connecticut shoreline. The lights on the horizon are those of Norwalk, CT. The land spit on the top left is Lloyd’s Neck.
Because of the social placement of the three chairs and the appearance of the Huntington Lighthouse, I named this photo, “Lighthouse Café.”