tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40317184633046674292024-03-04T22:17:47.499-08:0031 Days ~ 31 PhotosRickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07531886339256618693noreply@blogger.comBlogger219125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4031718463304667429.post-24594549644022972442012-01-06T15:03:00.000-08:002012-01-06T15:05:48.765-08:00Breaking Up is Hard to Do<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I'm moving...right now. And you can catch up with me in my new location on <a href="http://ricksforza.wordpress.com/">WordPress</a>. I'll leave this site up if you care to look through any of my archived posts. Looking forward to seeing you on my new location. And in case you missed the hyperlink, check in on the link below. See ya there!<br />
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<a href="http://ricksforza.wordpress.com/">http://ricksforza.wordpress.com</a></div>Rickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07531886339256618693noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4031718463304667429.post-57475960641733811212011-11-16T07:51:00.001-08:002011-11-16T07:59:32.113-08:00Portrait of...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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While setting up for a portrait session I had my sons sit in to help test lighting. And I was reminded of how to shoot a portrait, not the lighting, not the pose, location or lens selection. But, how important your subject themselves are. Seems like a given, yes? But it's easy to get caught up in the minor details of a shoot.<br />
My youngest was goofing on me a bit and I wanted to him tell to stop. "Hey! I'm shooting here!" Then it struck me that he was just being himself...exactly what we're looking for when we shoot a portrait. Remember to "listen" to your subject and your own instinct and you'll make a worthy likeness of your subject every time.<br />
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<br />Rickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07531886339256618693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4031718463304667429.post-81833796489414866892011-10-13T17:59:00.000-07:002011-10-13T17:59:08.081-07:00Nonna e il iPhone<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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My paternal grandmother, Yolanda Rose (Helen) Divincenzo Sforza will be 97-years-old tomorrow. I don't think she knows that. I am not even sure she recognizes me anymore. And it feels like a betrayal to say that.</div>
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<i>I wanted to shoot photos...I brought my camera...but ended up shooting with my iPhone. I was afraid. </i></div>
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My wife and kids and I visited "Nonna" this past weekend. She was small, frail and quiet...three things I have never associated with this power Italian-American woman born to an immigrant family in a Western Pennsylvania coal mining town. I guess that sounds like the beginning of an obituary...and I suppose it is.</div>
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<i>I wanted to shoot photos...I brought my camera...but ended up shooting with my iPhone. I was afraid. </i></div>
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My grandmother's condition has deteriorated quite a bit since the last time I saw her...it was disturbing. Her voice was barely audible and I was certain she didn't have a clue who we were, at least not right away.<br />
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<i>I wanted to shoot photos...I brought my camera...but ended up shooting with my iPhone. I was afraid. </i></div>
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I have spent my entire adult life as a photojournalist making difficult photos of emotionally charged scenes. It is not that it did not bother me...it just was not MY family. And I have always sought to bring as much grace and dignity to the photos as possible, because I needed to make the photo. It is my job.<br />
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I wanted to shoot photos of my grandmother...to bring dignity and grace to the photos. To bring dignity and grace to her. And for the first time in my life, I was not sure how to do it. I do not think my grandmother would mind, I have been taking pictures of her for 35 years. For now...I hope this does it...I think it does.<br />
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Rick: Nonna, è tutto buono? Sì? Fanno voi gradicono le foto?<br />
Nonna: Si si Rick, è buono. <br />
<br />Rickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07531886339256618693noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4031718463304667429.post-47282411942014451932011-10-13T16:51:00.000-07:002011-10-13T16:51:19.192-07:00Braggin' Rights<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This weekend, starting tomorrow actually, my youngest, <a href="http://noahsforza.blogspot.com/">Noah</a>, will show his photographic works for the second year in a row during <a href="http://www.artforheavenssake.org/">Art for Heaven's Sake</a>.<br />
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I am very proud of him. He's managed to develop his own unique photo style. I suppose it doesn't hurt that his Dad is a photographer. But, it's really more about friends of mine like <a href="http://tonymaher.net/home.html">Tony Maher</a> who have mentored him during the last two or three years.<br />
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Go get em' Noahy!Rickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07531886339256618693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4031718463304667429.post-38124021611542049402011-10-03T13:24:00.000-07:002011-10-03T13:31:03.970-07:00Shooting Video<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="225" src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/29976951?title=0&byline=0&portrait=0" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="400"></iframe><br />
<a href="http://vimeo.com/29976951">Noah's 16!</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/user5094579">Rick Sforza</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com/">Vimeo</a>.<br />
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As the industry continues to change...I continue to lag behind. So, I've begun shooting video with the Nikon D5100. Nothing special, no edits, music, titles and or credits. Just plain "gun and run."<br />
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Stay with me...have patience...I can do this! I'll just keep telling myself that. I think I can, I think I can, I think I can...Rickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07531886339256618693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4031718463304667429.post-71591129075563095122011-09-23T15:22:00.000-07:002011-09-23T15:22:36.711-07:00Live to Eat, Eat to Live<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY5NL4DwYxWjz8AW26Bq9RSox9ki_0wjEj-8qSZ078Cxrol_a9Uah_di2QHrgq23HZ8OFRsjqk_j7zk0jhIQwSfjKUzWgjXELObqv-6C2nCbn7awndoQuQ2Mwn2AkRkFOMeEBIy1BNv2Q/s1600/CHILI.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY5NL4DwYxWjz8AW26Bq9RSox9ki_0wjEj-8qSZ078Cxrol_a9Uah_di2QHrgq23HZ8OFRsjqk_j7zk0jhIQwSfjKUzWgjXELObqv-6C2nCbn7awndoQuQ2Mwn2AkRkFOMeEBIy1BNv2Q/s400/CHILI.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pumpkin and Pinto Bean Chili</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">French toast with fresh strawberries and goat cheese scrambled eggs.</td></tr>
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One of the things I enjoy about being a photojournalist, is you have to be a photographic "jack of all trades."<br />
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You would think the standard fare of the working photojournalist is news and sports. And while these are the assignments most of us enjoy, we're often challenged with a wide range of photographic disciplines.<br />
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During my time as a photojournalist I've shot fashion, studio, medical, wildlife/nature and of course food photography. As a photo editor it's important to recognize which particular discipline your photographers are good at. But, I'd like to think that each of us enjoys a challenge with something we're not particular well versed in.<br />
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Food happens to be my challenge and each of these shoots presented their own set of obstacles. The chili photo was made in the studio on rather short notice. So, I stayed with the basics. A softbox off to the upper right, black background and another light with a red gel "raked" across the back drop. The advantage here happened to be our "gear locker" in the studio that has accumulated a life time a props. The french toast was shot at the food writer's home. There was very little room to set lights, so I used a single flash on a chord off to the left with a reflect from the lower right. The light at the top of the photo is from a sliding glass patio door.<br />
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And the plating? Thank God I've been watching Top Chef.Rickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07531886339256618693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4031718463304667429.post-11702067032225595752011-09-16T18:10:00.000-07:002011-09-23T13:52:47.269-07:00Budget Meeting? Breaking News? Or Cold Beer?<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxYQ5X62yrLvgZjZq_DFl0ox9uRZZd7h7S0khgo1IbUtaAwFp51HofGCpCZjyMQOXKNlkysVia8g8BVspTaHumZ2Y1bgNe4-05S6xQCaICTtM4Aias-Ixh7AiXoPIcPAE_Dl3dJ_1B0qU/s1600/BN14-MISSING-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="270" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxYQ5X62yrLvgZjZq_DFl0ox9uRZZd7h7S0khgo1IbUtaAwFp51HofGCpCZjyMQOXKNlkysVia8g8BVspTaHumZ2Y1bgNe4-05S6xQCaICTtM4Aias-Ixh7AiXoPIcPAE_Dl3dJ_1B0qU/s400/BN14-MISSING-1.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Trish Calcott, 43, left and Ron Robb, 53, the parents of Joshua Robb, 8, react after receiving word their son had been found Tuesday September 13, 2011. The autistic 8-year-old went missing from the playground of his mountain community school in Twin Peaks Monday September 12, 2011.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqY-fw1XQyStSrwAsPtSHtj8XOCMX-HodJuneArSQD-2J_9nrgVHkKgvOHBe5fWHqgzz_My05qGlQCZh3Y_tfrCR04xfumUWvMjyYiLjsuZZOpPepNeDfqD84sm3A7ar0Pr53oldVRbrw/s1600/BN16-SEARCH_ERWIN-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqY-fw1XQyStSrwAsPtSHtj8XOCMX-HodJuneArSQD-2J_9nrgVHkKgvOHBe5fWHqgzz_My05qGlQCZh3Y_tfrCR04xfumUWvMjyYiLjsuZZOpPepNeDfqD84sm3A7ar0Pr53oldVRbrw/s400/BN16-SEARCH_ERWIN-1.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Federal agents carry a computer and boxes from the Highland home of Jim Erwin, the former assistant county assessor, after serving a search warrant Thursday September 15, 2011. Search warrants were also served at the homes and offices of other defendants or suspects in a sweeping San Bernardino County corruption scandal.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpUvjuOBQ88kbRsLaelrF38V-ffOKttqWB08qsa2u2sN9Z4YcdNIpDjddirpRo2F6acX1nrL2_FgREFb5UMZCL8H6nj3GJ__wItV77atQzugGR0aZwDUj5vUEYBF2RFxx7CoIQ7mptClE/s1600/BN17-PURSUIT-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="248" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpUvjuOBQ88kbRsLaelrF38V-ffOKttqWB08qsa2u2sN9Z4YcdNIpDjddirpRo2F6acX1nrL2_FgREFb5UMZCL8H6nj3GJ__wItV77atQzugGR0aZwDUj5vUEYBF2RFxx7CoIQ7mptClE/s400/BN17-PURSUIT-1.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A San Bernardino police officer jumps from a pursuit suspect's burning car Friday September 16, 2011 after moving the vehicle away from gas pumps. The pursuit, that started in Redlands, ended at a gas station at the corner of University and Hallmark Parkways in San Bernardino.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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Just when I start to think I've had all of this business I can stand...I have a day, or in this case, a week like this week.<br />
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Not sure how many meetings I missed but when weighed against....hmm, say....shall I go to another meeting or should I grab my gear and hit the street? I think hitting the street wins every time.<br />
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Whew here it is 6:00 Friday night and time for a cold one! Maybe I'll ran across news on my way home. Breaking news or a beer? The beer will still be cold!Rickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07531886339256618693noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4031718463304667429.post-12147747590130468292011-09-12T17:15:00.000-07:002011-09-12T17:15:59.771-07:00For the Sake of Art<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I suppose there is nothing special about this photo. But, I like it. I am not even sure why. I spend the better part of my day editing photos....other photographer's photos and I can tell you, and them, all the reasons why I like or do not like a photo.<br />
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I shot this photo on assignment last week. I did not submit this as one of my photos for publication. And I think the reason I did not, was I could not figure out exactly why I liked it.<br />
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I had a photo instructor tell me once that just because you liked a photo it does not mean that it is good or even appropriate for the assignment or publication you are shooting for. In this case he would have told me if I liked the photo that much, call it art and hang it on my wall.<br />
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That was nearly 30 years ago, now I can post it to my blog and call it an object lesson.<br />
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I still like itRickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07531886339256618693noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4031718463304667429.post-24673641833813293602011-09-07T18:04:00.000-07:002011-09-07T18:08:28.465-07:00One Arm Wonders and How I Final Joined the Crew of the Enterprise<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG6oCr1hBdg6iH-9UDYeMDzC5zb7o42W54ubfdSuHvLFZZnqH15fvrshRpwarlGuCkfR_Oeob15_OtyMKX9go8Ri8cUHuWcTyUkpz7VuH6qCNroh_0vmVvv8qJagAln6Jj16MZJFJeUQk/s1600/StarTrekMe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="271" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG6oCr1hBdg6iH-9UDYeMDzC5zb7o42W54ubfdSuHvLFZZnqH15fvrshRpwarlGuCkfR_Oeob15_OtyMKX9go8Ri8cUHuWcTyUkpz7VuH6qCNroh_0vmVvv8qJagAln6Jj16MZJFJeUQk/s400/StarTrekMe.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">James "Scotty" Doohan, me and DeForest "Bones" Kelley, circa early 1990's.</td></tr>
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There's a lot of life lessons to be had, even if they might come from television. I mean...come on...we all learned pretty early on never to wear red when beaming down to an alien planet!<br />
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I was flipping channels the other evening and landed on one of the original Star Trek series reruns...okay I purposely tuned in. I've always enjoyed the series. As a kid growing up in the 60's, this show completely captured my imagination. I don't believe the show shaped any decisions I've made in my life but it certainly opened my mind to the seemingly impossible. Sometimes I'd look at the show and some of the highly unbelievable plot lines and I thought...well if grown people can make a show like this...I suppose it's okay for me to engage in some daydreaming myself. It's like I'd been given permission. So I was pleasantly surprised when I opened a box of old photos and found this print. It was like discovering a couple long lost friends.<br />
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Periodically through my career I've taken the opportunity to shamelessly engage in one-arm wonders. And I'm blogging about this photo because today, some 20 years later, because dreaming is what led me to become a photographer. Dreaming is what removes barriers and frees the mind to overcome the impossible. It, dreaming, is what has allowed me to be the photographer that I am today.<br />
<br />
I know it doesn't sound very logical...so I suppose it's a good thing Leonard Nimoy wasn't in the photo that day.<br />
<br />
<br />Rickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07531886339256618693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4031718463304667429.post-69468843581997443582011-09-01T17:41:00.000-07:002011-09-01T17:41:43.541-07:00It All Comes Out in the Wash<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZO_0H5trpE34CKdqBhEIPbYggfw7M4tJXvt_y9sqWjg4BrBsUoLxolIzepZAkM1zI9Lf5Jte5vdsYwQM6et2AH7HJN90GXOfByKsrRPeF_P7vlwo2zk7ULUMRxv6FRNsOSwIRUqe02Yo/s1600/My+HipstaPrint+0.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZO_0H5trpE34CKdqBhEIPbYggfw7M4tJXvt_y9sqWjg4BrBsUoLxolIzepZAkM1zI9Lf5Jte5vdsYwQM6et2AH7HJN90GXOfByKsrRPeF_P7vlwo2zk7ULUMRxv6FRNsOSwIRUqe02Yo/s400/My+HipstaPrint+0.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This Lexar 4GB compactflash card survived not one, but two trips through the washing machine.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>It has been said that, "It all comes out in the wash." But, in this case...it didn't. After running this card through the wash not once but twice, none of the images on my compact flash card were gone. It's not like it's a big mystery as to what's inside this little piece of plastic. Or, is it? I decided to call Lexar and see if they could de-mystify it for me.<br />
<br />
I spoke with "Zach" at Lexar Support explaining how I'd washed my card...twice.<br />
Zach: "You're probably lucky you didn't lose any images or corrupted the card.<br />
Me: "I just read a whole slew of testimonials on Lexar's homepage of people who've swam with their cards, rescued a dog in a river, retrieved their camera from a fire...It's not like there is any moving parts inside the card. Right?"<br />
Zach: "You're correct. It's a solid card, no moving parts. Inside of the card are connections printed on a circuit board and a little tiny memory chip."<br />
Me: "So I could wash the card again?"<br />
Zach: ...long pause<br />
Me: "Hello?"<br />
Zach: "Ah, well...I would say that. The cards were not designed for extreme conditions."<br />
Me:...thinking...so I could wash them on a delicate cycle with my Victoria Secret collection?<br />
Zach: "Hello?"<br />
Me: "Well, exactly HOW could I ruin a card?"<br />
Zach: "We don't recommend that."<br />
Me: "But suppose I did ruin my card? How does that usually happen?"<br />
Zach: "Well...typically...people ruin their cards when they take them out of their camera before the camera has finished writing the image to the card. Or when people pull their card out of a card reader without properly ejecting it."<br />
Me: "So I shouldn't wash my card again?"<br />
Zach: "....is there anything else I can help you with?"Rickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07531886339256618693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4031718463304667429.post-58814236323809933712011-08-31T16:41:00.000-07:002011-08-31T16:41:07.659-07:00Photo Hat Trick<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoAdMkhkamqdhrbrO9wiwiR2zYCn5Sbee6uQKvQr3SN10kS_MByE5hFJW8IYpIoNA0K4G1RLD2INZ6Vfx5Jo_qDgCoqBoFDPJ4aXclo08ezWpNJ05VewjVCcRuhfJqLYBBV4MCGzkSL28/s1600/BN26-EVICT-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="257" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoAdMkhkamqdhrbrO9wiwiR2zYCn5Sbee6uQKvQr3SN10kS_MByE5hFJW8IYpIoNA0K4G1RLD2INZ6Vfx5Jo_qDgCoqBoFDPJ4aXclo08ezWpNJ05VewjVCcRuhfJqLYBBV4MCGzkSL28/s400/BN26-EVICT-1.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Surrounded by their belongings, Anthony Ronzo, 56, comforts his wife Deana Johnson-Ronzo, 42, Wednesday August 24, 2011, after being removed from the home they were living in San Bernardino. The owner of the property claims he had never rented the home to it's current occupants.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKFFHmNoN8-QGDAiNp_yidlQkWqDZg1J4sUb5oRFDpFRRoY8-8I3Lvip7YTSGFCkqQzuRtHdq_nHGeLKhEtlnXWLYZZ941xHQootbkhWokwNdcZhyWfLR0J5sRL7FVtv3W5LevuUhIkrU/s1600/BN25-VETJOBS-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKFFHmNoN8-QGDAiNp_yidlQkWqDZg1J4sUb5oRFDpFRRoY8-8I3Lvip7YTSGFCkqQzuRtHdq_nHGeLKhEtlnXWLYZZ941xHQootbkhWokwNdcZhyWfLR0J5sRL7FVtv3W5LevuUhIkrU/s400/BN25-VETJOBS-1.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Job seekers enter the Veterans of Foreign Wars, Post 8737 in San Bernadino, Wednesday August 24, 2011. The post was sponsoring a breakfast and job fair for veterans and the community.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjctgwKdOxx289J8Umtb-SuEV_GcGQ-Unut7zoRnD8ettBF4Lnm_7HjWQarLoP8b9f4kqZraa2_GLnweoc9mzo2FlUV6t592MYtD2089olPr_5f1NoGZoSns4_rIMntuoxXW2Uq8RB_j-U/s1600/BN24-FIREFOLO-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjctgwKdOxx289J8Umtb-SuEV_GcGQ-Unut7zoRnD8ettBF4Lnm_7HjWQarLoP8b9f4kqZraa2_GLnweoc9mzo2FlUV6t592MYtD2089olPr_5f1NoGZoSns4_rIMntuoxXW2Uq8RB_j-U/s400/BN24-FIREFOLO-1.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gary Mathews, 40, pauses Thursday August 24, 2011 after looking over his home that was destroyed by a fire that swept through Mathews Ranch in the Devore, Calif., area near Interstate 15.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Fewer photographers. More assignments.<br />
<br />
I'd been in a photo slump lately, though that changed recently. Not really due to any initiative on my part.<br />
<br />
It's fewer photographers and more assignments.<br />
<br />
I can always shoot assignments, but I'd rather stay away from the "good" assignments. Nothing breeds contempt amongst the staff quicker than the photo editor taking "good" assignments. So as it is, I end up shooting a good deal of breaking news because I either have...yes, fewer photographers and more assignments. Or, the staff is just too darn busy or out of position to shoot news. Last week was much the case when I ended up with three front-page photos.<br />
<br />
It's always good to get out of the office, even when the temperature is over 100 degrees. Besides, I think I was gaining weight hiding in the office.Rickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07531886339256618693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4031718463304667429.post-84665038179877678692011-07-11T17:43:00.000-07:002011-07-11T17:43:00.876-07:00A Photo by Any Other Name<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn3BBAw1AunHRFU1rtTScCvlxHLMzThiCmYsBeVRQDTwny1gtmwQuqtwIRYhG58hF84fYswsAW7QQsPw8DShDp-NJzI_fSUVHN-koQA8o49THbkXz7RGZc375kKUmo4ac4m3IJXL3wq_Q/s1600/BN12-PAINT-9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn3BBAw1AunHRFU1rtTScCvlxHLMzThiCmYsBeVRQDTwny1gtmwQuqtwIRYhG58hF84fYswsAW7QQsPw8DShDp-NJzI_fSUVHN-koQA8o49THbkXz7RGZc375kKUmo4ac4m3IJXL3wq_Q/s400/BN12-PAINT-9.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">Being a full time photo editor, I don't get out much. Though lately, as newspapers continue to reduce their staffing, it seems as though, well, as though I'm getting out of the office again. And it usually comes in the form of a late photo assignment or chasing down a piece of "wild art" to fill a page.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Call it what you like...wild art, standalone, enterprise, or free standing, but most newspaper photographers commonly refer to it wild art. For the "uninitiated," wild art is a "found" photo of a situation, event or moment (not a news photo) driven by it's visual appeal. And most photographers will agree, it's a love-hate relationship. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">We hate it because it usually follows into one of the conditions listed below:</div><ul><li>The request comes 15 minutes before your shift ends, and the amount of time required to find wild art is exponentially multiplied by how much time you do not have to find a photo.</li>
<li>It's 110 degrees outside, and the only people suffering through the heat wave are photographers looking for people suffering through the heat wave.</li>
<li>It's 0 degrees outside, and the only people suffering through the cold snap are photographers looking for people suffering through the cold snap.</li>
<li>It's pouring rain and the only people in the rain are photographers and old men building arks.</li>
<li>You're two hours into your search, your gas gauge has been on empty for the past 20 minutes and pay day is three days away.</li>
<li>That simple request to "just make a snap of something to fill page 3," has now turned into the lead photo on page 1.</li>
</ul>We love it because it usually follows into one of the conditions listed below:<br />
<ul><li> You get to meet really cool people who you never would have met while shooting pet-of-the-week.</li>
<li>You're out of the office when the desk asks if anyone is available to shoot a ground breaking.</li>
<li>You now have time to pick up a birthday present for kid's birthday party being held that evening.</li>
<li> You're out of the office when the desk asks if anyone is available to shoot a ribbon cutting.</li>
<li>That breaking news coming across the police scanner and the amount of time required to get there is exponentially decreased by the amount time it would have taken you to get there from the office.</li>
<li>You're out of the office when the desk asks if anyone is available to shoot pet-of-the-week. </li>
</ul>And finally, which I was reminded of today, I'm actually getting paid to shoot photos. It doesn't get much better than that.<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;"> </div>Rickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07531886339256618693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4031718463304667429.post-38631591200716524802011-06-03T09:31:00.000-07:002011-06-03T09:31:16.266-07:00A Walk in the Woods, or at least along the Tarn<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY6PyJhDNTIMzmkPoDOTNEWy5_yEdhp9X_Tb9utztX9NphePkCVc-AdgYxmQU5u_1dzOIhC2g58afqmtBuTDqK-2IIZM3VWIClREpuHPRtf9JqFZqPNrVDjtb9XC9aYl10KsR49Q1-MEc/s1600/MemorialWKND-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY6PyJhDNTIMzmkPoDOTNEWy5_yEdhp9X_Tb9utztX9NphePkCVc-AdgYxmQU5u_1dzOIhC2g58afqmtBuTDqK-2IIZM3VWIClREpuHPRtf9JqFZqPNrVDjtb9XC9aYl10KsR49Q1-MEc/s400/MemorialWKND-1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTZHV2DT4T6YcEQqrX1R6JiuzzJK6oaWARV5RICwh24SbYKzL7kgl7F19U4gYPIaMcAoRI-01kUVyPKxOduU3muwT2k-u7XLQ63Vq8Ky8KIzT6ibQvD4YprTiPd9Y1oinfIvVBQitoBpM/s1600/MemorialWKND-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTZHV2DT4T6YcEQqrX1R6JiuzzJK6oaWARV5RICwh24SbYKzL7kgl7F19U4gYPIaMcAoRI-01kUVyPKxOduU3muwT2k-u7XLQ63Vq8Ky8KIzT6ibQvD4YprTiPd9Y1oinfIvVBQitoBpM/s400/MemorialWKND-2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtPE0XT1SHRhYvdkG63GyxL8DUu8i3PlDE9G_ODXAcKBJIv4tkp6cqKDimA10V90g6YkaPzcvjjvEKWIx-1-7Y5Tz6XS1ntZqKf2DGGuKQBZ5MOPGk_ZIB7G9jCOYJr9M2quUFsU8RVUw/s1600/MemorialWKND-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="247" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtPE0XT1SHRhYvdkG63GyxL8DUu8i3PlDE9G_ODXAcKBJIv4tkp6cqKDimA10V90g6YkaPzcvjjvEKWIx-1-7Y5Tz6XS1ntZqKf2DGGuKQBZ5MOPGk_ZIB7G9jCOYJr9M2quUFsU8RVUw/s400/MemorialWKND-3.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC0Gqr8_Sm-b9SzUmrl3YNjqdOcSniFYegCOKkLfJuRWlLKpEdPs2jC0yClu_vVPBfG-QHpbGY384fmBIv2SkCUHm9ZjkKhMmNXyFqBluYEqDn0KseSb3nR9BshmpE1LcJDiDPEvemk7c/s1600/MemorialWKND-4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="251" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC0Gqr8_Sm-b9SzUmrl3YNjqdOcSniFYegCOKkLfJuRWlLKpEdPs2jC0yClu_vVPBfG-QHpbGY384fmBIv2SkCUHm9ZjkKhMmNXyFqBluYEqDn0KseSb3nR9BshmpE1LcJDiDPEvemk7c/s400/MemorialWKND-4.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJBHlR4vXwx4i5VwcR6KdVZI1HLEqKIrvklgROs3h6sxsyesaBu62gNMU7Oq__0LTX7GyDsFO02RIPAv7MXNIM6paSuVpvfe6zRvklFs99FS3Iyv8uKSNUOR3GaUYUhmGj3hDx11_2knA/s1600/MemorialWKND-6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJBHlR4vXwx4i5VwcR6KdVZI1HLEqKIrvklgROs3h6sxsyesaBu62gNMU7Oq__0LTX7GyDsFO02RIPAv7MXNIM6paSuVpvfe6zRvklFs99FS3Iyv8uKSNUOR3GaUYUhmGj3hDx11_2knA/s400/MemorialWKND-6.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4Akll3nxYsbvwOuXVtl7i82nripwF8p0sH7fZ-PTkdS-Lxx8IqPvuFZlXphIdT9wJVJLGWpqRzY7Bt5k1W_NTu644HsKOMWDAIsnxUJbMTLNvsIVR5CHKl51RoYDzcZEP2TLvaxd8c88/s1600/MemorialWKND-7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="210" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4Akll3nxYsbvwOuXVtl7i82nripwF8p0sH7fZ-PTkdS-Lxx8IqPvuFZlXphIdT9wJVJLGWpqRzY7Bt5k1W_NTu644HsKOMWDAIsnxUJbMTLNvsIVR5CHKl51RoYDzcZEP2TLvaxd8c88/s400/MemorialWKND-7.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikRdG8noILsqhUre8OomcD5Sk5irseZJ6M_woXnnSvX1Zv5Bz8LfP6_KfdpKY3KSReNn5v8SUExeI8v_ROVIWiOOzjN9kTNENiLiII98JhjCL2-4AbJWPftC3rwWxit5Ma6P7AuaXIj_k/s1600/MemorialWKND-93.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikRdG8noILsqhUre8OomcD5Sk5irseZJ6M_woXnnSvX1Zv5Bz8LfP6_KfdpKY3KSReNn5v8SUExeI8v_ROVIWiOOzjN9kTNENiLiII98JhjCL2-4AbJWPftC3rwWxit5Ma6P7AuaXIj_k/s400/MemorialWKND-93.jpg" width="265" /></a></div>Okay, so the title is a shameless rip-off of <a href="http://www.randomhouse.com/features/billbryson/">Bill Byrson's </a>book by the same name. I couldn't help but think of Byrson's whimsical and sometimes painfully honest writings of his trek along the Appalachian Trail as I shot these photos. I spent the weekend in our local mountains, the San Bernardino National Forest, with a group of friends and family. And I have to say here, that as we set out on a hike, I elected to leave my cameras behind. My son, who I like to imagine a budding young photographer, scurried back to camp to grab his cameras. When he returned he was carrying mine. Thank you Son!<br />
<br />
I've suggested, sometimes here on this blog, that you should always, always, always carry your camera. As it is, if you leave your gear behind, you'll wish you hadn't. As would have been the case on this day.<br />
<br />
Once you become a photographer, professional, semi-professional or hobbyist, you'll spend most of your time looking at the world through a set of imaginary lenses. And then applying that vision to your photography.<br />
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So, always, always, always...Rickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07531886339256618693noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4031718463304667429.post-61994897948359255842011-06-02T13:55:00.000-07:002011-06-02T13:55:26.415-07:00Just Shoot the Photo!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheixDdPa3pzZOfW0arifz1JpKXrbotB5Pt8Eq9nWSDvtymafL3UxWF5gIRy8RLg8suUdPv8AeXBhVzw085BTegOE9ZD17hz9-2ze0OHh5QXBQQrrCUGTMvcURIoXm7PHsQ_HBhRff6UjY/s1600/BackYard-22.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheixDdPa3pzZOfW0arifz1JpKXrbotB5Pt8Eq9nWSDvtymafL3UxWF5gIRy8RLg8suUdPv8AeXBhVzw085BTegOE9ZD17hz9-2ze0OHh5QXBQQrrCUGTMvcURIoXm7PHsQ_HBhRff6UjY/s400/BackYard-22.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikKtZUARPx992FJw_8l8BhzQDR2NKLZwCP34jerTVMT9nyqGADQmwJ3JOaY81JMb9vZJpRvhp_7Z_hvYY9dKdjVvM7KBuH9NzFo6m91IcAqMV2GpWvE8OJEuiyMAF8CLxl9eVU_TurH6U/s1600/BackYard-33.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="193" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikKtZUARPx992FJw_8l8BhzQDR2NKLZwCP34jerTVMT9nyqGADQmwJ3JOaY81JMb9vZJpRvhp_7Z_hvYY9dKdjVvM7KBuH9NzFo6m91IcAqMV2GpWvE8OJEuiyMAF8CLxl9eVU_TurH6U/s400/BackYard-33.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRRw6Jq965k7Y5M9KPqgAfPIO52-4EhSzymAL6Fo9brq5AlTI8lz6n0wQQ2IXGgS_1gbCa99h5nvwN6MdkLcleviRCiF7ZhEmLZJMBdFVyTnSsZIqEAj0GIDHBkbcvIDeaiiDA2rsP1u0/s1600/BackYard-49.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="220" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRRw6Jq965k7Y5M9KPqgAfPIO52-4EhSzymAL6Fo9brq5AlTI8lz6n0wQQ2IXGgS_1gbCa99h5nvwN6MdkLcleviRCiF7ZhEmLZJMBdFVyTnSsZIqEAj0GIDHBkbcvIDeaiiDA2rsP1u0/s400/BackYard-49.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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Just a little exercise in shooting from home.<br />
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I believe we (photographers) get a little self involved as where we shoot photos. In an attempt to challenge myself, yet again, I made these photos in my backyard. None of the photos were shoot further than 50 feet from each other and no more than an hour apart.<br />
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For me it's often about shooting with what ever camera you have within your reach. And on this day it was about finding a photo that was right in front of me.Rickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07531886339256618693noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4031718463304667429.post-23411554713620129742011-05-19T12:47:00.000-07:002011-05-19T12:47:13.166-07:00Measuring Rain in Megapixels<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7j6qzdSSvEvlG74lt5rJiQBBugUepODC0R-r_fdyFyu6oybwZFarU3DgJR1zIlq4lQ1rMib2nDpz6vwIu6XLdrL5UncpXWSLIpwr0gai_K0T9SXQZBhmDjDP2bKRqxvZhfXD38RQOrCU/s1600/31Alley1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7j6qzdSSvEvlG74lt5rJiQBBugUepODC0R-r_fdyFyu6oybwZFarU3DgJR1zIlq4lQ1rMib2nDpz6vwIu6XLdrL5UncpXWSLIpwr0gai_K0T9SXQZBhmDjDP2bKRqxvZhfXD38RQOrCU/s400/31Alley1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcYGDaDOfg9Geu0_yqbMXgA68YYtGN1bUZI7Oat2xZzNOhr4cUUh8NMVpMWQJilrGXazD3pTQe0lmszjmdRTJBMvw6sq9FAt51tfeKyYtHrt0dSl-nayf_fIH7aCw0OsNg2EYquqPZMm8/s1600/31Alley2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcYGDaDOfg9Geu0_yqbMXgA68YYtGN1bUZI7Oat2xZzNOhr4cUUh8NMVpMWQJilrGXazD3pTQe0lmszjmdRTJBMvw6sq9FAt51tfeKyYtHrt0dSl-nayf_fIH7aCw0OsNg2EYquqPZMm8/s400/31Alley2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFmmY-PCxiUS2W8FkdUztRYzlpABcLJZpBRdqaw_JMCvX_ftcAG7S8VNHrUgAFylJOOG2KGdut9UcgpN8-Tae9zpkQSZgx-PzduaIS0EPvA8feUVKthnptdovVJg-hwhyAG4j82Bdk9Vw/s1600/31Alley3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFmmY-PCxiUS2W8FkdUztRYzlpABcLJZpBRdqaw_JMCvX_ftcAG7S8VNHrUgAFylJOOG2KGdut9UcgpN8-Tae9zpkQSZgx-PzduaIS0EPvA8feUVKthnptdovVJg-hwhyAG4j82Bdk9Vw/s400/31Alley3.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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<div style="text-align: justify;">The weather during the past few days have made the world look like a great big softbox. The lighting is subtle and subdued, as if, all the harshness and sharp edges are gone from the world. I've heard it said that <a href="http://www.chasejarvis.com/#s=0&mi=2&pt=1&pi=10000&p=5&a=0&at=0">"the best camera is the one that's with you."</a> There's even a book by the title from photographer Chase Jarvis.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">So it was yesterday that I found myself wandering around in my downtown alley ways with the iPhone sipping a cup of coffee and pretending to fend off the rain...but not really caring and soaking it all in...two megapixels at a time.</div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><i>"The air was soft, the stars so fine, the promise of every cobbled alley so great that I thought I was in a dream."<br />
Jack Kerouc</i></div><br />
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</span>Rickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07531886339256618693noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4031718463304667429.post-15123137184246906092011-05-18T15:49:00.000-07:002011-05-18T15:49:11.656-07:00Rollling Thunder<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3at6epELrqfcjavI06Wa3W8WoLYVhvJDQBDksPZYd1ovSbA6blHpQrh4c1-VtQNV7KJS17QDOTAYqhiIc2GLtCR4pOvnTMUb5pNR7tHiK6w3zoUQsx23HuL1VVdbYTlKA7gT18wWY_Hg/s1600/BN19-SBVIETNAM-19.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="208" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3at6epELrqfcjavI06Wa3W8WoLYVhvJDQBDksPZYd1ovSbA6blHpQrh4c1-VtQNV7KJS17QDOTAYqhiIc2GLtCR4pOvnTMUb5pNR7tHiK6w3zoUQsx23HuL1VVdbYTlKA7gT18wWY_Hg/s400/BN19-SBVIETNAM-19.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Signs and flags are always a challenge when shooting. Protesters often relay on signs to help deliver their message. Veterans and patriotic groups nearly always come with the stars and strips. As a photographer you struggle to shoot the event without relaying upon the obvious. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
Today I discovered this group of on a freeway overpass. The group, many of them Vietnam veterans, were out showing their support for <a href="http://www.rollingthunder1.com/">Rolling Thunder XXIV "Ride for Freedom."</a> Rolling Thunder is a veteran's group that makes an annual motorcycle ride, amongst other things, to Washington D.C. called <a href="http://www.rftw.org/">"Run For The Wall,"</a> in the hope to creating support for and support of American prisoners of war, the missing in action, and more recently, helping American Soldiers, Sailors, Airmen and Marines injured during war. Helping them to heal.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I think it was okay to photograph the flag today.</div>Rickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07531886339256618693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4031718463304667429.post-50143932447254508982011-05-17T14:32:00.000-07:002011-05-17T14:33:31.165-07:00Rainy Days and...ah...Tuesdays<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7cbkxbeIo8JOkxC6s6IzHdAtuU37iFcYnwzQ4zLmoBhDcgEZNOVBX_7fZdlF4YuMOs0MKR_Glo1TIesfLMc-L1cWDL0HnDNzZQITzBwsiofF4IgUVQRoAa4DJbYDan4-tz5-QlD4z37M/s1600/BN18-RAIN.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7cbkxbeIo8JOkxC6s6IzHdAtuU37iFcYnwzQ4zLmoBhDcgEZNOVBX_7fZdlF4YuMOs0MKR_Glo1TIesfLMc-L1cWDL0HnDNzZQITzBwsiofF4IgUVQRoAa4DJbYDan4-tz5-QlD4z37M/s640/BN18-RAIN.jpg" width="403" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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It rained today, it is supposed to rain tomorrow, and then again on the weekend.<br />
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It is not a deluge, nor a relentlessly onslaught. It is merely a silent steady drizzle. It is the kind of rain that lulls you into a dreamy trance while you stare out of the window. Two worlds, one on each side of a pane of glass frosted with the condensation of your slow steady breath.<br />
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My inner photographer calls out. Grab a camera, shoot a photo. My inner romantic calls out. Grab a blanket. Light a fire.<br />
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I hope it rains tomorrow.Rickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07531886339256618693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4031718463304667429.post-90694610925162988592011-05-09T08:42:00.000-07:002011-05-09T08:42:16.587-07:00How Do You Like Them Apples?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-AU91OuLV0Q7OybMBZDlsO9Rjin7cWPVp6xjlhBCofrrjbfNvWl5XFSZ552Gb_GjQHiHe7Y3ovoAheb1UeVxg6JmqY0JBk0iM9IcZXhyphenhyphentXYAqnb4FUvzxJCgNaHm5YLzceRCpmqM3EHQ/s1600/31CRISIS.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-AU91OuLV0Q7OybMBZDlsO9Rjin7cWPVp6xjlhBCofrrjbfNvWl5XFSZ552Gb_GjQHiHe7Y3ovoAheb1UeVxg6JmqY0JBk0iM9IcZXhyphenhyphentXYAqnb4FUvzxJCgNaHm5YLzceRCpmqM3EHQ/s400/31CRISIS.jpg" width="327" /></a></div><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><i>"We can escape the commonplace only by manipulating it, controlling it, thrusting it into our dreams or surrendering it to the free play of our subjectivity" </i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Raoul Vaneigem, Belgian writer and philosopher</i></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><i>I am on the road of determination, attempting to free myself from the subjectivity of photography. </i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Me...Rick Sforza</i><i> </i></div><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">Whether or not someone else values the vision of a photographer's execution of a photograph should really have little or no bearing on that photographer's personal evaluation of the work they have created. Having said that, creating a photo illustration can be maddening! We each view the world through our own unique set of filters applied by our own experiences, surroundings and most certainly nature and nurture. And our common experiences will often dictate whether a given group of people collectively viewing a photograph "get it," like it or appreciate it.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Working for newspapers we often create photo illustration to make a point. I recently created a photo illustration for the cover of our newspaper's special section entitled "Examining California's Crisis in Education." The photo above was not the photo we eventually used. A similar photo from the same shoot was used on an inside section. The message the photo was intended to convey was about the cuts to education. And my responsibility in creating the photo illustration is to make sure that our readers "get it." This is the point where a photographer, me in this case, needs to get over themselves and move on if people do not like the photo or simply do not understand what it is you are attempting to convey. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The lesson here is really about better communication between the photographer and other people in the room who are working on the story. It truly should be a team effort blending everyone's unique set of filters. But ultimately it's the photographer's responsibility to understand the audience he or she is delivering the image to.<br />
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In the end, I liked what I created. And if someone else doesn't? Well...it's all subjective.</div>Rickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07531886339256618693noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4031718463304667429.post-61442679714933848852011-04-18T15:39:00.000-07:002011-05-09T08:35:26.541-07:00The End of the World as We Know it<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4_vnNGamE7ggGE282MjXX6ziyk16BbbW6pVwmSuJVqYolgA23vKEXgLO2BddS22WKAESfvFIprUWGG63bUvB1-uWFRKrD03lL4oBUbgoV-r251QyYH267bEePkXF_b53EGKJFstgvnUw/s1600/BN19-TAX.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="273" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4_vnNGamE7ggGE282MjXX6ziyk16BbbW6pVwmSuJVqYolgA23vKEXgLO2BddS22WKAESfvFIprUWGG63bUvB1-uWFRKrD03lL4oBUbgoV-r251QyYH267bEePkXF_b53EGKJFstgvnUw/s400/BN19-TAX.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
I'm not sure what the big deal was. I mean, I drove, two or three times, past Liberty (actually her name is Donna) waving at passing traffic giving them a warning that this was their last chance to file their taxes. I was racked with indecision regarding the simply act of making the photo.<br />
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For the past few years I've been telling myself. "I need to make a photo of these people dressed up like Liberty." And this year I final did it. I've made a couple photos using the Hipstamatic app., but they haven't really struck a cord with me. So, today as I drove past Donna holding her sign. It just struck me, "0 DAYS LEFT." Somehow it seemed more poignant than what the sign actually was referring to. And even more meaningful that I couldn't seem to motivate myself to shoot the photo.<br />
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I'm glad I finally stopped to make the photo. I enjoyed talking to Donna. She told me how much she'd enjoyed her job. "They've just been so nice to me. Just so nice!" I asked her if the company she works for had prepared her taxes for her. "I suppose they would've, for free too. But, I didn't really work much last year."<br />
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I asked Donna what she was going to do tomorrow. "I guess I need to find another job." Now I know why I didn't want to stop. I hope Donna finds a job, one where they treat her nice.Rickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07531886339256618693noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4031718463304667429.post-76631184520886133632011-04-04T16:32:00.000-07:002011-05-09T09:11:24.737-07:00I Want to Ride my Bicycle<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVJ-dKXJBohOQ2iStsIQOPIc0a-hqbcUcDvAdOgv2v21zAbjTTq8qSoU_57IbMWOt3iKNWaBPe02-NfWuEMII8YyrNFyR6O1ZBRNHzZR5fHQ1_myo5NNM6em6K8jjlTLvbEY4fMQWJ8-M/s1600/BikeClassic11-205.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVJ-dKXJBohOQ2iStsIQOPIc0a-hqbcUcDvAdOgv2v21zAbjTTq8qSoU_57IbMWOt3iKNWaBPe02-NfWuEMII8YyrNFyR6O1ZBRNHzZR5fHQ1_myo5NNM6em6K8jjlTLvbEY4fMQWJ8-M/s400/BikeClassic11-205.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6zr3OKHdGpd2hDFQPqEATyamtndyGfQU6wUe3iMPQsnjFnzdo_sKFeaQs0ql1m8ULwlt0m9YKofF-Ni5VL7NDCRxsSgtkrwoOXl-7n6esvTuDTiHCPt5Ue94sCVvC770_RE5NjMLPh74/s1600/BikeClassic11-173.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="220" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6zr3OKHdGpd2hDFQPqEATyamtndyGfQU6wUe3iMPQsnjFnzdo_sKFeaQs0ql1m8ULwlt0m9YKofF-Ni5VL7NDCRxsSgtkrwoOXl-7n6esvTuDTiHCPt5Ue94sCVvC770_RE5NjMLPh74/s400/BikeClassic11-173.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgldaN7oSe4qnp8BCpKyE1PMN1Hff2WjVm_01ZlmGvwUkrdAPnKOVahBDFDqAVlYwxu64mPNwooFF7PpqZG2vXKHu8CzkrJP6r7g_UXeI3W2kMLZNpjvuo-W85ej1VSfkXx0NqII82Dxbo/s1600/BikeClassic11-039.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgldaN7oSe4qnp8BCpKyE1PMN1Hff2WjVm_01ZlmGvwUkrdAPnKOVahBDFDqAVlYwxu64mPNwooFF7PpqZG2vXKHu8CzkrJP6r7g_UXeI3W2kMLZNpjvuo-W85ej1VSfkXx0NqII82Dxbo/s400/BikeClassic11-039.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy-a8-phPlqUhkWIjm2-dMlGwSnI84ZDhMmASKmUgqErbw9jhB9Y4aufION8YXZ7KUrW5V4pdYc1CkkJyvScKOVJjsCYn6i8gZDwkE4DoKjdmCR8AFHFakfIooyfOaLN58QZSZwh1pxS0/s1600/BikeClassic11-266.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="186" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy-a8-phPlqUhkWIjm2-dMlGwSnI84ZDhMmASKmUgqErbw9jhB9Y4aufION8YXZ7KUrW5V4pdYc1CkkJyvScKOVJjsCYn6i8gZDwkE4DoKjdmCR8AFHFakfIooyfOaLN58QZSZwh1pxS0/s400/BikeClassic11-266.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>As an assignment photographer, there is a real joy in covering an event like the Redlands Bicycle Classic...when you are NOT working. Don't get me wrong here. The Classic is a great event and lots of fun to have as an assignment. But, it is even more fun to be free of the deadlines, (which seem to get earlier and earlier) page shapes and sizes, (that never seem to make sense) last minute requests from the sports desk (which get later and later and never seem to make sense) and keeping track of who is who on those bikes blurring by in an explosion of color at 35 - 40 miles an hours. And you never really get a chance to "get your freak on" while shooting. Typically sports wants photos of the cyclist, arms raised in triumph, as he or she crosses the finish line and rarely will run "one of those artsy fartsy" shots. So it was with great joy and photographic relaxation this past weekend (nice deadline eh?) that I attended the Classic for my first time in two or three years just for the sheer joy of making those artsy fartsy photos. And I even drank a beer as I watched the finish of a race...as the rider thrust his arms in the air triumphantly.Rickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07531886339256618693noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4031718463304667429.post-72188644748771638082011-03-28T20:59:00.000-07:002011-03-28T20:59:55.951-07:00A Day in the Canyon<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg69DGEIUkSVPcGP4kZxbkPK_sIb1Iug1PG6p509Vczzw7k7NvpTtCiLrebvnJkVbqhxYo0vPGWRKDf84uHt0frwcAePz9Np_sHglRqO2I7LciK5vZfo9cu9gWzOxe-P482zHDWKW9Epok/s1600/MurryCanyon-006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="132" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg69DGEIUkSVPcGP4kZxbkPK_sIb1Iug1PG6p509Vczzw7k7NvpTtCiLrebvnJkVbqhxYo0vPGWRKDf84uHt0frwcAePz9Np_sHglRqO2I7LciK5vZfo9cu9gWzOxe-P482zHDWKW9Epok/s400/MurryCanyon-006.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Spent the weekend with a group of family and friends hiking Murray Canyon near Palm Springs. The natural setting, flora and funa of the canyon were breathtaking. And we were able to share it with people we love. Oh yeah, and it was a fabulous photo opportunity too! <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi24KRM5OOEISdv1AVxCoERJin4IE6vFUDg2wied3ovpO3bEE8pY9Uyz9jcRWVBIPFYLOD6pTvEKnSV-YBAE18CWACVuUT3xPo4HrhNzffpcqkvh513ktKulR9auDoMlzu60ORrHeByLOY/s1600/MurryCanyon-020.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi24KRM5OOEISdv1AVxCoERJin4IE6vFUDg2wied3ovpO3bEE8pY9Uyz9jcRWVBIPFYLOD6pTvEKnSV-YBAE18CWACVuUT3xPo4HrhNzffpcqkvh513ktKulR9auDoMlzu60ORrHeByLOY/s400/MurryCanyon-020.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja4kjp0obbwwbAlM_tsXx1IiSZq-YH110VLm1LsSi6uR9yaj0qAGw6WKNEpbJEkFQVXznZ3hGKXCgFE8tu9fdhrjKY_WK9vpAD3SGgiSKbzOHgpr0IZKifu_LweALVUIZRIJXBuymMoRQ/s1600/MurryCanyon-105.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="236" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja4kjp0obbwwbAlM_tsXx1IiSZq-YH110VLm1LsSi6uR9yaj0qAGw6WKNEpbJEkFQVXznZ3hGKXCgFE8tu9fdhrjKY_WK9vpAD3SGgiSKbzOHgpr0IZKifu_LweALVUIZRIJXBuymMoRQ/s400/MurryCanyon-105.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0BDo2jZTIjES1H4Nh_0hlDFXlOo5w3oEEuH9pNVjuFqA_w1O3XTHBXQLYXuNXbZZ2k14kixoQ1btPArS4xzofMOmnekq5-6cmx62k0sM-33-jK3Sv31odTn6IUqRUETfn2aqj95jqukg/s1600/MurryCanyon-122.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0BDo2jZTIjES1H4Nh_0hlDFXlOo5w3oEEuH9pNVjuFqA_w1O3XTHBXQLYXuNXbZZ2k14kixoQ1btPArS4xzofMOmnekq5-6cmx62k0sM-33-jK3Sv31odTn6IUqRUETfn2aqj95jqukg/s400/MurryCanyon-122.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Rickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07531886339256618693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4031718463304667429.post-66143811916903564192011-03-28T20:37:00.000-07:002011-03-28T20:37:53.570-07:00Furlough Day Ten...FINI<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPv1mDb7akAVcA664Cq25AAjaW5VUKKeloK3ML9A9d_85NGtxgZfSvozMAxKIFy97YsvzkVa3uDrmICtN2Ak23a-DgRvFdBsEiYf0v_MByt-8QMR8qUk9xqxjPSnVUQZceeqFPEGWJkr8/s1600/31Bones.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPv1mDb7akAVcA664Cq25AAjaW5VUKKeloK3ML9A9d_85NGtxgZfSvozMAxKIFy97YsvzkVa3uDrmICtN2Ak23a-DgRvFdBsEiYf0v_MByt-8QMR8qUk9xqxjPSnVUQZceeqFPEGWJkr8/s400/31Bones.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Furlough Day Ten, FINI:</div><div style="text-align: center;">So, I've been thinking about the whole furlough experience.</div><div style="text-align: center;">For the company, it's just busness, not personal. I get that.</div><div style="text-align: center;">And these past 10 days have served to remind me they're right, it's business. It also reminds me what my father has always said, "At the end of the week...you and the company are even."</div><div style="text-align: center;">It's been a real gift to spend this time with my family. </div><div style="text-align: center;">And at the end of my life, I doubt I'll look back and wish I'd spent more time at the office.</div>Rickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07531886339256618693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4031718463304667429.post-46179058163771525022011-03-25T11:46:00.000-07:002011-03-25T11:46:43.837-07:00Furlough Day Nine<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcsdnknKNJl4U0qn7sHPRYyyrk0TwgSV0T9GhB52MNx6wMz_HHeniIovVl17vSiEv6GY2o4mwDr-XY8aJcYmReai1LBMSfMKLjWkWbTduRl_kLZpHHG4VrrAJ8_UlyR60IQwr9lPq-M-E/s1600/31CooperOmelet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcsdnknKNJl4U0qn7sHPRYyyrk0TwgSV0T9GhB52MNx6wMz_HHeniIovVl17vSiEv6GY2o4mwDr-XY8aJcYmReai1LBMSfMKLjWkWbTduRl_kLZpHHG4VrrAJ8_UlyR60IQwr9lPq-M-E/s400/31CooperOmelet.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Furlough Day Nine:</div><div style="text-align: center;">Beginning to lose my grip on reality.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Cooper the Dog and I argue whether to watch SpongeBob or Real House Wives of Orange County, and the merits of dairy cheese versus veggie cheese on our omelet.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Cooper won, he's watching Housewives and finishing the dairy cheese omelet.</div>Rickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07531886339256618693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4031718463304667429.post-87386649736289158362011-03-24T11:24:00.000-07:002011-03-24T11:24:03.892-07:00Furlough Day Eight<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVdEAdeSqdM5DKpzreeRXpJfDs_rCOgEUq-uLQa6wKT9xHFJapoqN-wmvo6M2YfGZk5YfM6U6SgzDv1PYNv3fnkDMmwwbOESLaUTs78gToTKGjL9bJbT9o1FAHA9c5m09CZUjF0v_hr8w/s1600/31Disney.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVdEAdeSqdM5DKpzreeRXpJfDs_rCOgEUq-uLQa6wKT9xHFJapoqN-wmvo6M2YfGZk5YfM6U6SgzDv1PYNv3fnkDMmwwbOESLaUTs78gToTKGjL9bJbT9o1FAHA9c5m09CZUjF0v_hr8w/s400/31Disney.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Furlough Day Eight:</div><div style="text-align: center;">Happiest Place on Earth and I still have to be Mr Pink.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Why do I have to be Mr Pink?</div>Rickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07531886339256618693noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4031718463304667429.post-43100775991924853022011-03-22T17:07:00.000-07:002011-03-22T17:07:52.182-07:00Furlough Dog Day Seven<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-eGpQtzZ982e6xhuehU-LkIUv3aZJw4oHilZzTfLJOAgWwdGU3YuYwHi-foXdVom94U79xzfcANhyDfRvOqSQwInNN_EEgVVQEJA5GvLVzzl1L4D879ewatFEJ-rQFPcswSENdi5Z540/s1600/31FurloughDog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-eGpQtzZ982e6xhuehU-LkIUv3aZJw4oHilZzTfLJOAgWwdGU3YuYwHi-foXdVom94U79xzfcANhyDfRvOqSQwInNN_EEgVVQEJA5GvLVzzl1L4D879ewatFEJ-rQFPcswSENdi5Z540/s400/31FurloughDog.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Furlough Dog Day Seven:</div><div style="text-align: center;">Okay, just for the sake of keeping things simple...if dog years to human years is seven to one...then with a weekend at the front, back and middle of my 10 day furlough would total 16 days off work.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Soooo, that's more like...my kind of math!</div>Rickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07531886339256618693noreply@blogger.com3