Nils Karlson

A couple months ago, the Film Shooters Collective Instagram feed featured Nils Karlson. It was "love at first sight." I tapped through to his feed, and followed him. Ever since, I've loved seeing his images come up while scrolling through my Instagram.

Karlson lives in Germany, and uses a mix of medium format cameras, and pinhole cameras, and shoots on a variety of color films.

I was immediately attracted to Karlson's aesthetic. The high-key tones, the soft color, selective focus in some images and the tell-tale softness and vignetting of a pinhole photograph in others, give his images an airy, dreamy quality. I feel as though I'm dreaming I'm on the beach, feeling the humid, salty air blow across my skin. In others, it's as though I've been shrunk down to the size of an insect.

He was recently featured and interviewed at the Pinholista, and you can find it here, and you can also see more of his work on his flickr page.

Deadlines

In a recent LensWork podcast, Brooks Jensen discussed the values of deadlines. He and a group of photographers have been in China, and six of them participated in a juried show. They each had three days to photograph, edit and select 20 images, and then have their work judged.

This got me thinking about imposing my own deadlines. Again. Jensen has discussed deadlines before, as well as Jeff Curto of the Camera Position Podcast, and I had many of the same thoughts during this episode as I have with many of the others before. But since this discussion was in the context of having only three days to go out and gather material, or make the photographs, then edit and cull their images down to a group of 20, and display them, I got to thinking about imposing that type of a deadline on myself.

What if I were to impose a deadline, where I have X amount of time to make Y amount of images of a certain topic, concept, place, or subject matter or idea. Maybe I could do this several times, so that I would end up with three or four or however many of these bodies of work. Then, would they all coalesce into one greater body of work? I suppose they could, if they all fell under a grander overarching theme. Or maybe the very fact that each body of work was done with the same guidelines or rules places them under one overarching theme.

The amount of time may dictate the amount of images to include in the final count, and vice versa: fewer images–less time in which to work; more images–more time. Also, the tools used (e.g., pinhole camera, digital camera, lumen print, etc...) would influence both time and scale.

Would an artist statement accompany each group? Would the writing of an artist statement be included in whatever timeframe I impose?

A large difference between what Jensen and the other five photographers did and what I’ll be doing, is the deadline for the contest was placed on them by a third party. My deadline is all self-imposed, and I can see myself making excuses for extending the deadline. Maybe I’ll just have to put my wife in charge of cracking the whip.

The following is the statement that really got me thinking about this seriously:

“The deadline of having to photograph and produce in 72 hours a group of 20 images to be photographed, not only resulted in some very interesting photographs, but some very interesting experiences for all of who put ourselves voluntarily into a little bit of a squeeze box that pushed us to find something creative and personal to say in this landscape. And as an event, I think it was incredibly successful.”

Even if these photographs don’t make it past being posted here on my blog, I can’t help but think that it would be of immense value to me as an artist, as Jensen discovered. I mean, it’s really kind of a no-brainer: deadlines are useful, no matter where they come from.

Now, to start brainstorming project ideas and parameters...Maybe I should set a deadline.

 

Pinhole Camera Construction

Back in high school, I made my first pinhole camera. I don't even remember what I made it out of. Maybe an empty bulk 35mm film can. Then, in college, I made another one. Or two or three. Then the one semester I taught as a grad student, I built another pinhole camera, and even made a pinhole "lens" for my D300, and shot a few digital pinholes. And as I type this, I'm feeling the urge to do it again. It was incredibly easy to do...

Now I've got the bug again, partly because of a few people I've begun following on Instagram, and have been scheming and planing cameras in my head. Last week I started construction on two cameras built out of two empty iPhone boxes. They should be capable of filling a 6x9 negative, but not quite a 6x12, though the interior of the box is big enough to hold a piece of film that size.

Here are some pictures documenting the process thus far:  

Center located and marked for opening to be cut out, exterior of box masked for painting the inside

Center located and marked for opening to be cut out, exterior of box masked for painting the inside

Center cut out for pinhole sheet placement, matte board glued to the inner perimeter of the box to set a 55mm "focal length" 

Center cut out for pinhole sheet placement, matte board glued to the inner perimeter of the box to set a 55mm "focal length" 

Matte board glued to inside of inner box to help create a baffle to prevent light leaks

Matte board glued to inside of inner box to help create a baffle to prevent light leaks

Interior of boxes being painted with matte black paint

Interior of boxes being painted with matte black paint

Pinhole drilled in 0.001" brass shim stock

Pinhole drilled in 0.001" brass shim stock

Pinhole mounted to matte board which is mounted to the box

Pinhole mounted to matte board which is mounted to the box

Testing the shutter

Testing the shutter

Both halves of the box put together to test fit

Both halves of the box put together to test fit

All that is left now in the build is to paint the shutters black, and then test for light leaks. Guess I'd better get some developer. 

i can't wait to start making images with these! 

Long Beach

Gina and I recently got to go to Long Beach, California, for a conference that she attended for work. While she was in the conference I got to play around a bit. I took advantage of my free time and went to the beach and walked around close to the hotel and photographed. I also went to the Long Beach Museum of Art, and saw the exhibit they have up right now, titled Vitality and Verve in the Third Dimension. It was an interesting exhibit, with murals, installations, a few of which were interactive, mixed media pieces, ceramics and other types of sculpture. My favorite piece was by Ernest Zacharevic, a Lithuanian graffiti artist who recreated photographs of kids in, I think, Brooklynn as murals.

I'd never been to Long Beach, and it was a fun last trip for Gina and I before our baby comes in mid-November.

Belmont Pier, Long Beach, California 2016

Island White, Long Beach, California 2016

Storm Drain, Long Beach, California 2016

Island White

God  U, Long Beach, California 2016

Bluff Park, Long Beach, California 2016

Untitled

Untitled

Galaxy Towers

Untitled

Convention Center Walkway, Long Beach, California 2016

E. Shoreline Drive, Long Beach, California 2016

Bench, Telescope, Long Beach, California 2016

Queensway Bay, Long Beach, California 2016

Lake Michigan

Last week I had the opportunity to go to Plymouth, Wisconsin on business for a training for a machine we have where I work. If you don't know where Plymouth is, it is about an hour north of Milwaukee, and about thirty minutes away from Sheboygan, which is on Lake Wisconsin. After the training sessions, I drove around Plymouth, Sheboygan Falls, and Sheboygan to see the landscape and the towns. I'd never seen any of the Great Lakes, so seeing Lake Michigan was a must. I ended up going to North Side Municipal Beach both evenings I had free. The first evening wasn't really planned, I just ended up there. The second evening, however, was planned: I saw on the weather forecast there would be bad winds out on the lake, causing large waves closer to shore, and sure enough, they were about 6 feet high, which drew out some surfers and jet skiers.

Wave Breaker, Lake Michigan, Sheboygan, Wisconsin 2016

Lake Michigan, Sheboygan, Wisconsin 2016

Lake Michigan, Sheboygan, Wisconsin 2016

Breaking Waves on Lake Michigan

Jake Weigel

At this point in time, I can't remember how I came across the work of Jake Weigel, but I think I must have been looking for more work similar to James Balog and Krista Wortendyke and David Hockney. Nor can I remember exactly when it was, but I think it was towards the end of June. Not that that's really important.

However it was that I came across Jake’s website, I do remember the first image I saw:

Part of his Reconstruction series, Woods gives the viewer the sense of lying on their back, gazing up into the cloudy sky, wondering if the clouds overhead will finally let go of the moisture they are carrying, and nervous that the bare trees will offer no protection should rain begin to fall.

This "photographic collage," as Jake calls it (I myself, don't know whether to call pieces like this collages or mosaics), was different than almost any other I'd seen before. It is from a different perspective than the others, and the photograph is more about story than it is about seeing a forest in a different way.

The concept is pushed even further by using apparently the same image repeatedly to create a whole new composition in itself as in Spiral:

I think this sort of piece requires just the right photograph as a starting point. The way the cables from the pole arc and then “connect” to themselves again in each subsequent frame is what creates the spiral. Another photograph may dictate different treatment, a different pattern.

Head over to his website. He has a very extensive body of work, ranging from medium format film photography to sculpture.

Bear Lake 2016

Two weeks ago my family went to Bear Lake for a few days. Most of the photographs I made while at the lake were the "motion" photographs that I included in my last post. I made a few of my traditional style photographs with my digital camera, and even more on film, which aren't developed and scanned yet. Once I get them done, I'll be posting a lot of what I've done over the last few months since I got back into film. 

Sunset After A Clearing Storm, Bear Lake, Utah 2016

Picnic Bench, Bear Lake, Utah 2016

Motion #2

A few months ago, I was out photographing and the wind was blowing too hard to make the photographs I wanted to make; the photographs were blurry from camera shake. So, I decided to really exaggerate the camera movement and panned the camera from right to left, and left to right, and up and down and came away with some very pleasing results. Ever since then, I've made more of these "motion studies" whenever I've gone out to photograph. I'm thinking there are some real possibilities for a strong portfolio in this process.

Washington Lake

Walking Path, Chism Park

Dock, Lake Washington

Alki Point

Snoqualmie River

Near Kennewick, Washington

Guardrail Along I-82 Near Kennewick, Washington

Approaching the Washington-Oregon Border on I-82

Approaching the Washington-Oregon Border on I-82

Approaching Pendleton, Oregon

Sunset Over Bear Lake at Rendezvous Beach

Sunset Over Bear Lake at Rendezvous Beach

Sunrise Over Bear Lake at Rendezvous Beach

Rendezvous Beach Campground

These next few images were made by rotating the camera during exposure, rather than panning, and the last two were made while panning and rotating the camera. 

Rendezvous Beach

Sunrise Over Bear Lake

Sunrise Over Bear Lake

Sunrise Over Bear Lake

I love how serendipitous this process is. Serendipity is the main reason why I'm so passionate about the lumen process. I discovered that particular process towards the end of my education at BYU Idaho, and it was a nice and needed change from the exactness of working with the Zone System.

I'm really drawn to the way these photographs in motion erase the details of the landscape and reduce it down to its most basic elements. Deep shadows are erased and colors become more pastel in some cases, and even more saturated in others. Shapes emerge that are only revealed, or that are plainly created by the camera's movement. 

This is a process that I'll surely be pursuing.

Seattle 2016

Last month Gina and I took a trip to Seattle to celebrate our first anniversary. We had so much fun seeing the sights, and playing tourists for several days. Seattle has been one of my favorite places ever since I lived there for a few months while my brother Jesse went through treatment for Leukemia. It was fun to take Gina to some of the places I knew, and just as fun going to new places together.

While we were there, I was able to make lots of photographs. Here are all of my favorites:

Hansen Bridge, Idaho 2016

Chism Park, Bellevue, Washington 2016

Lake Washington, Chism Park, Bellevue, Washington 2016

Chism Park, Bellevue, Washington 2016

Lake Washington, Chism Park, Bellevue, Washington 2016

Chism Beach, Lake Washington, Bellevue, Washington 2016

Alki Point, Washington 2016

Alki Point, Washington 2016

Snoqualmie River, Snoqualmie, Washington 2016

Snoqualmie Falls, Snoqualmie, Washington 2016

Snoqualmie Falls, Snoqualmie, Washington 2016

Salvaged Penstocks, Snoqualmie Falls, Snoqualmie, Washington 2016

Snoqualmie River, Snoqualmie, Washington 2016

Washington Arboretum, Seattle, Washington 2016

Rhododendron Glen, Washington Arboretum, Seattle, Washington 2016

Work In Progress

I've been out quite a bit in the last month gathering photographs for these photo-mosaics I've gotten into making, and thought I'd share a few of the pieces I'm working on.

This first one has images made on three or four different occasions—once in the evening and twice in the morning just before and after sunrise.

Upper Bear River Recreation Area Parking Lot and Boat Launch

This next one has images made on five or six different occasions, at dusk, and at dawn and late afternoon.

Upper Bear River Recreation Area

This last one has photographs made on two different occasions, once at sunrise, and the other at sunset.

Lower Bear River Recreation Area

It's been a lot of fun conceptualizing, composing and then piecing together all the photographs that make up the larger piece. It's real time-consuming, both in the making of the photographs, and in the editing and arranging. I've got several hours already put into each of these photographs, and they're not even close to being something I'd say is a finished piece of artwork.

In a way, I feel as though I'm rebelling against the style I've worked in in the past 13 to 15 years, and it feels good to break from my "norm." 

Some Thoughts on Projects

A few days ago, I published a post on the work of Krista Wortendyke. In it, I explained I first saw her work in an email newsletter, and that it really "struck a chord." I didn't really elaborate on that in the post, because I wanted to focus on Krista's work. Today I'd like to talk about the way it affected and has already influenced me and my own photography.

I've mentioned in previous blog posts how the creative impulse has really taken hold of me again and I've begun sweeping the cobwebs out of the recesses of my mind that drove my creative thinking. It’s not that I quit exercising my creativity altogether—I just found different outlets, like tying flies and fly fishing, and I didn’t exercise photographically often at all. Or, I at least didn’t engage in it seriously, or with any real direction. It gradually fell pretty low on the list of priorities. It is true that I would occasionally think about a project that would help me get serious, but that’s as much work I put into it. Add to that the fact that after leaving grad school (the reasons for which I still haven’t ever fully addressed here), I haven’t really been part of a community to offer any valuable feedback or critiques beyond a “thumbs-up” or a “like” on Facebook or Instagram of any work I ever did do in the past several years. And that has been the hardest struggle.

So, as I’ve been going out around Cache Valley to photograph, and reading material to help get my brain in gear, I’ve been wondering and pondering on what to do for a project, and several ideas have popped up. I’ve always thought ever since moving here, about doing something with the Bear River. It’s a heavily exploited resource, so there’s lots I could say with it. But then I remember Craig Denton’s book “Bear River: Last Chance to Change Course” and shy away from a project of my own on the Bear River. That happens to me all the time: I think of a project or subject or process, then learn of or remember that someone else has done that exact thing or something very similar and I give up on whatever plans for a project I may have started to formulate. But I recently heard a quote from Mary Virginia Swanson who said (to paraphrase) that you should photograph the ideas or subjects that come from within. To photograph what you’re passionate about. She went on to say that after a while you will come into your own style. And then I later heard another paraphrased quote from Robert Adams: Art can’t awaken us if it merely copies what we already have. So, the first quote gave me some validation and encouragement to carry out a project that someone perhaps has already done. The second quote gave me the warning I need to not just copy. Which I’ve always had in mind when making photographs (though sometimes I’ve made photographs knowing full well it looks exactly like another photograph from someone who came before). In the Adams quote, he said something about taking what someone has already done (and this is where the real challenge lies) and to make it better. And he’s right. Every turn I take, it seems like I’ve seen something like it to varying degrees before. There’s little in the Arts that hasn’t been done before. Which can be debilitating, because I don’t want to copy. I just need to figure out how to improve upon work that has influenced me. That’s when a voice creeps in my head and says “How are you going to improve upon Mark Klett? or James Balog? or Peter Goin? and the list goes on.

Now let me discuss some thoughts on the project I have swimming around my mind, as well as what is an underlying element to all of my photography. I’ve always been fascinated at the way a photograph can freeze moments of time. Whether the length of that moment of time is only 1/500 of a second, or if three hours passed to make the exposure. My lumens, for example, are exposed anywhere between three hours and a week or more (I’ve done them as long as a month, but I feel like a day-long, or two-day-long exposure is sufficient for what I am trying to achieve). Within that time, the plants I use in the process die, along with any insects or other crawly things that are in the plants’ roots or leaves, and things begin to rot and decay fairly quickly, especially if it’s a hot summer day. The paper really changes from the intense UV light that is exposing it. The viewer may not know just how much time elapsed in the making each print, but the passage of time is a preeminent element in the creation of them. With my “camera photographs” (I use the term here to separate them from the camera-less photographs that lumen prints are), I almost always try to use as slow a shutter speed as possible. Within reason. I’m not usually interested in freezing motion in my photography. I aim to show motion—flowing water, tree branches swaying in the breeze, the streaks of headlights as cars drive by.

Which brings me back around to the photography of Krista Wortendyke, and the chord that was struck. In the blog post I did on her work, I explained (actually, I quoted her artist statement) that her photographs are composed of multi-frame images taken from video games, and photographs found on the internet to make a composite image that blurs the line between what is real, and what is fiction. Upon seeing that photograph in the email newsletter, I knew I had a direction I could take in a project on the Bear River. By making each photograph up of a composite of many photographs, I can show the passage of time in each individual photograph that makes up the whole, as well as the passage of time measured in days, weeks, months or even years, showing the effects of time and changes of seasons of a scene in a single photograph. Any changes in water levels of rivers and streams, the sprouting and death of leaves on trees, and any changes that Man might make on the landscape could all be observed in one image. That email arrived in my inbox at about nine a.m., and I wasn’t able to sit still or concentrate for the rest of the day. My mind was exploding with new ideas and locations to photograph and methods of display. In that post, I explained it wasn’t the first time I’d seen work done the way Krista created her photographs, and that I was familiar with James Balog. Even before I knew of Balog, Tyler Hopkins, a friend from college was doing mosaic-, multi-frame photographs. And since I came across Krista’s work, I’ve discovered a few more photographers working in this similar vein, such as Jake Weigel.

Over the past two or three weeks, I've been out a handful of times to start gathering photographs for finished pieces. I've returned to a few locations on different days, so that the larger photograph has photographs made on two different days.

Here is the first one I started working on, with photos made on two different days, and is by no means finished:

These pieces, as I mentioned above, may not be complete for up to, and maybe even more than, a year, since my goal currently is to include frames from all four seasons, from different times of day, under various weather conditions.

It had been a very long time since a project hit me and got me so excited as this one has made me. Stay tuned for more updates!

Krista Wortendyke

About eight or nine years ago, I created a blog titled 52 Photographers, where I would feature one photographer each week of the year. I don’t remember now just how many posts I made on the blog, but I know I didn’t make it a whole year. The purpose of the blog was to help me seek out photographers I hadn’t seen before to keep the creative juices flowing.

I recently had the thought of resurrecting that blog, but I don’t have the time to make it a weekly thing. So, I’ll make it as much of a regular thing that I post about on this, the Departures Blog. And so, with no further ado, I’ll introduce the first photographer I’ll be featuring: Krista Wortendyke.

One of Krista's photographs was featured in a recent Your Daily Photograph email. The photograph, Untitled_014, from her (re): media project struck a chord in me at the very moment I saw it.

It wasn’t the content of the photograph that grabbed my attention so immediately and completely. It was the way she had pieced multiple images together in a multi-frame mosaic. I had seen seen work in this same approach before though—I have been aware of James Balog’s photographs published in a book titled Tree: A New Vision of the American Forest. But it had been so long since I'd seen or thought of Balog's work, that I'd nearly forgotten all about it, so it was if I were seeing work done like this before, not in terms of content—in this case, a fireball in an unnamed or even unknown desert, presumably from an explosion, and a large, black and gray plume of smoke rising into the sky—but in technique.

(re): media untitled_014

(re): media untitled_014

The body of work "is an exploration of the way imagery and information from movies, videogames, newspapers, and the Internet come together to form our perception of war." She goes on to explain: "Explosions are war’s most universal and most spectacular signifiers. We are never falling short of this imagery. I have made use of these magnetizing images to show not only how the lines between fiction and non-fiction blur, but also to show how a mediated experience can become indecipherable from a real experience." I find the concept intriguing, and the implementation is quite apropos to the subject matter.

(re): media untitled_011

(re): media untitled_011

I love coming back to these photographs. There are so many things that go unnoticed on a first look because there are is so much imagery to take in in each piece. And with so much of war and violence in the news, the imagery of war has become so commonplace and mundane, and with the quality of graphics and the immersiveness of war video games, it is easy to confuse reality with fiction.

Take a look at Krista's website and other projects here.

*All images used by permission of the artist.

Bear River and Clay Slough

I've gone out several times over the past weeks, around Benson, and the Cutler Marsh, and I'm feeling like I'm really getting to know the Bear River and Cache Valley on a deeper level, though there's still so much more to discover.

I also bought a 6x9 medium format rangefinder recently, and it's been fun getting back into film photography, even though I haven't gotten any of the film developed yet. It's been nice to have to slow down and not take the "shotgun approach" that digital can allow you to take. I've noticed I approach the photographed scene just slightly differently with film. I'm sure the focal length of the lens and the fact that it's a rangefinder with no light meter has something to do with this change.

Here are some photos from the last few outings. 

Tree Blown by the Breeze, Bear River, Benson, Utah, 2016

Tree Blown by the Breeze, Bear River, Benson, Utah, 2016

Bear River, Benson, Utah, 2016

Bear River, Benson, Utah, 2016

Irrigation Pump House, Clay Slough, Utah, 2016

Irrigation Pump House, Clay Slough, Utah, 2016

Clay Slough, Utah, 2016

Clay Slough, Utah, 2016

Culvert, Clay Slough, Utah, 2016

Culvert, Clay Slough, Utah, 2016

Parking Lot and Sign Post, Clay Slough, Utah, 2016

Parking Lot and Sign Post, Clay Slough, Utah, 2016

Benson

On Saturday evening we drove out to Benson again so I could photograph. Here are a some of the evening's fruits:

Cottonwoods, Ditch, Benson, Utah, 2016

Cottonwoods, Ditch, Benson, Utah, 2016

Cottowoods, Bear River, Benson, Utah, 2016

Cottowoods, Bear River, Benson, Utah, 2016

Cottonwoods, Benson, Utah, 2016

Cottonwoods, Benson, Utah, 2016

Cattails,  Benson, Utah, 2016

Cattails,  Benson, Utah, 2016

Live and Fallen Cottonwood Trees, Benson, Utah, 2016

Live and Fallen Cottonwood Trees, Benson, Utah, 2016

Cottonwood Trees on the Banks of Bear River, Benson, Utah, 2016

Cottonwood Trees on the Banks of Bear River, Benson, Utah, 2016

Grace, Idaho

The day after I went out to the Bear River Migratory Bird Refuge, which was also Easter Sunday, Gina and I headed up to Grace, Idaho to photograph. It's only an hour and fifteen minutes away, and in all my 8 years of living here in Logan, I'd never made the drive to visit the place—it was my first time there since 2007 when my friend Jon Long and I made a trip down there. But a little while before this most recent trip, I knew I needed to return again, and Gina and I made plans to do so.

Aqueduct and Highway 34, Bear River, Grace, Idaho, 2016

Aqueduct and Highway 34, Bear River, Grace, Idaho, 2016

Grace Dam, Idaho, 2016

Grace Dam, Idaho, 2016

Grace Dam, Idaho, 2016

Grace Dam, Idaho, 2016

Grace Dam, Idaho, 2016

Grace Dam, Idaho, 2016

Bear River Migratory Bird Refuge—One Year Later

A couple weeks ago, I went out to the Bear River Migratory Bird Refuge, accompanied by my father-in-law while Gina watched the LDS General Women's Conference broadcast.

As I mentioned in my last post, Gina and I went out there on our third date. It was my first time ever going there, and I knew that the place had a lot of potential for some really great photographs. The way the land has been altered, and the way the Bear River has been diverted and channelled really draws me in. Since around my time in college, I've been intrigued as to how we humans interact and change the land around us, for better or worse. And as I've been out photographing periodically over the last three or four weeks, I've ended up along the Bear River. Most of the time it's been intentional; I love to photograph water—I always have, ever since I first started learning how to really operate a camera and control exposure. There is a part of me that is concerned that that subject matter is low hanging fruit for me, creatively. It's pretty easy to make a good photograph of water. The land around Cache Valley still remains a challenge to me. Back in 2013, I discussed some of the challenges I faced in dealing with the landscape of Cache Valley, and I think I still struggle with it a little. At least when it comes to subjects of photographs that aren't rivers or streams or other bodies of water. One side of me says to not worry about it and to just stick with what I'm good at. And there's nothing really bad about that. I think it's a valid argument. But there's also part of me—a large part—that realizes that there's no growth in doing only what you're comfortable with.

But, I'll stop rambling for now, and get on with the photographs:

Bear River, East Pass, Bear River Migratory Bird Refuge, Utah, 2016

Bear River, East Pass, Bear River Migratory Bird Refuge, Utah, 2016

Old River Channel, Bear River Migratory Bird Refuge, Utah, 2016

Old River Channel, Bear River Migratory Bird Refuge, Utah, 2016

Bear River, Bear River Migratory Bird Refuge, Utah, 2016

Bear River, Bear River Migratory Bird Refuge, Utah, 2016

Bear River Diverted Into Four Channels, Bear River Migratory Bird Refuge, Utah, 2016

Bear River Diverted Into Four Channels, Bear River Migratory Bird Refuge, Utah, 2016

Amalga and Bear River Bottoms WMA

Sunday, I was in the mood to go out and photograph after church, so Gina and I loaded the car and headed out. I had in mind to end up in the Preston area, but in a roundabout way. We headed out to Benson, and then turned the car north towards Idaho. We went through Amalga, and Trenton, and through the Bear River Bottoms Wildlife Management Area, and on through Cornish and then Preston. I'm starting to get a few more ideas for a project bouncing around in my head, and I feel like I'm getting a good amount of images to use as a foundation to whatever I decide to do.

Bear River, Amalga, Utah, 2016

Bear River, Amalga, Utah, 2016

Bear River Bottoms Wildlife Management Area, Utah, 2016

Bear River Bottoms Wildlife Management Area, Utah, 2016

Latest Efforts

In my last post, I lamented how I felt I'd turned my back on my photographic education and friends and mentors I made and gained along the way, and I said I wanted to change that. I also mentioned that I went out last Saturday with the sole purpose of making photographs. Here are my two favorites from that evening:

Boat Launch, Bear River, Benson, Utah, 2016

Boat Launch, Bear River, Benson, Utah, 2016

Cutler Marsh Near Benson Marina, Cache Valley, Utah, 2016

Cutler Marsh Near Benson Marina, Cache Valley, Utah, 2016

Last night Gina and I loaded up the car and headed back out to Benson, which is only about 10 minutes away. Instead of taking the tactic from last Saturday and drive from one spot to another, I decided to just go to one spot and stay there the entire evening. I think the exercise was fruitful. And even after about an hour of photographing there, I know there are many more hours of photographing to do just at that one location. Edward Weston spent much of his life photographing Point Lobos; he made 29 other photographs of peppers until he finally made Pepper No. 30 (part of me wonders if he finally thought "Eureka!" or if he continued with Peppers No. 31, 32, 33, etc...). Ansel Adams did the same with Yosemite. After years and years in those same places, they still continued to find new photographs to express the way they felt about those places. Back in college when I was living in Rexburg, Idaho, I returned time after time to Texas Slough. Something about that little body of water spoke to my soul. This is my favorite photograph from 2004:

Texas Slough, Idaho, 2004

Texas Slough, Idaho, 2004

It was so cold, and my fingers fumbled around trying to work my new 5x7 camera, and I stood shivering as I focused, took a light meter reading, and then waited the couple minutes while the film was exposed.

Like I said, I felt pretty successful last night. I took some of the lessons learned from Saturday's outing, and came away with stronger images. At least, I feel more confident in them.

Marsh, Benson, Utah, 2016

Marsh, Benson, Utah, 2016

Marsh, Benson, Utah, 2016

Marsh, Benson, Utah, 2016

Pallet Pathway, Benson, Utah, 2016

Pallet Pathway, Benson, Utah, 2016

I think I've found my "pepper" in this next photograph. That huge limb that's lying just above the water really drew me in, but this photograph (while I like it quite a lot) doesn't really emphasize that limb the way I'd hoped. I guess I'll have to go back and keep trying however many times it takes to get it right.

Bear River, Benson, Utah, 2016

Bear River, Benson, Utah, 2016

Setting Crescent Moon, Marsh, Benson, Utah, 2016

Setting Crescent Moon, Marsh, Benson, Utah, 2016