Showing posts with label Winter. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Winter. Show all posts

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

Season of Change

Hipstamactic with John S lens and Ina's 1969 film shot with the iPhone





















Today is the Winter Solstice, we're as far away from the Sun as we can be. It's the shortest day of the year, at least here in the Northern Hemisphere. It's also a time for change as we head to longer, warmer days.

So it's only natural to make a photo (again) in a new way, using what ever means available to me to continue to stretch, to grow and change, breaking free of old, tired and stodgy means of communicating visual.

Happy Solstice!

Thursday, January 22, 2009

Winter's Coat


Winter wears itself upon the land like a badge of pride. It says, "I've been here for time immortal. I visit each year and lay my coat of hibernation upon your lands. The trees have learned to bend...not break. The grasses have learned to sleep...not die. And the waters have learned to lay still...not ran dry. Life lays still beneath my coat waiting to return.Waiting to blossom. Soon as the days growing longs and the nights shorter, I will return to the North to sleep. My sister, Spring, will awaken the land. She will thaw the waters. She will breath life upon the grasses. She will straighten the trees. And she will restore hope to the lives of those who live off the land.

Monday, December 15, 2008

The Last Dandelion. The Last Wish.

Taraxacum. The dandelion. A common weed. My grandmother used to send me out to pick the leaves of young dandelion plants to mix with a fresh salad. You can cook them too. They're similar to spinach. Dandelions contain iron and antioxidants. You can even make wine from the blossoms. But, far and away, the most valuable part of the plant? The parachute ball full of seeds waiting on the act of human dispersal...and a wish.

With the first day of Winter approaching and few dandelions...and a wish...remaining, I wonder what will happen when the last wish has been made.

Momma Gimme Back my Kodachrome


Something we don't usually get to see in Southern California...the change of seasons. And this small parcel of trees with their changing colors had me thinking appreciating this little spot of color and about Kodachrome. Most likely the best known Kodachrome photo was Steve McCurry's 1985 portrait of the Afghan girl, Sharbat Gula, he shot for National Geographic. There is even a state park named after the film, Kodachrome State Park in Basin, Utah. Sadly though the digital format portraying this very scene has contributed in a small part to the decline of the transparency film. And as if to further make the point, there is one commercial lab in the entire world that processes the film.

Even before I knew what Kodachrome was Paul Simon had already immortalized the film's striking capacity to rendering light. Digital has made all of our jobs easier. It's made the "acquisition of imagery" easier and more accessible. It's saved time and money. It's cut out messy and dangerous chemical processes. But I can't recall the last time I heard a song praising the attributes to digital...not even in an elevator. Give a little time I guess.

Kodachrome
They give us those nice bright colors
They give us the greens of summers
Makes you think all the worlds a sunny day, oh yeah
I got a Nikon camera
I love to take a photograph
So mama don't take my Kodachrome away