2019 Memories

It's hard to believe 2019 is ending and a new decade will be starting in less than a week. As I look back on this year, I marvel at everything that has happened. I started the year sharing a small cabin with family and friends in a remote corner of Washington State. Through this year I was able to share with 3 different groups my future books (no they are not done yet, but getting closer) and inspired a few to head out to explore on their own. I even submitted the book proposal to a publisher - fingers crossed. I was asked to present a talk at a local photo conference about personal projects and I think I found my signature talk - if I ever get invited to speak again. Mid-year I started vlogging and have learned so much about video recording and editing and even about accepting myself. I have even started working on a better business plan to coach photography and public speaking for photographers. Adventures have been amazing with 2 backpacking trips in the Olympic rainforest, several day hikes and road trips and finally a grand adventure in the Canadian Rockies. This has been a very good year and trying to choose my favorite images has been extremely difficult. Can't say these are my absolute faves from the year, but they help make the year memorable.

This first one may seem a bit odd for a landscape photographer - a city scape of pigeons flying into the air. But I love street photography as a way to challenge myself - to look at the cityscapes and find the beauty there in the buildings and the people. Our everyday interactions with our environment may seem mundane and boring, but really, are they. Stop and look around you to find the patterns in the construction, the nature finding a way to thrive, the humanness of an interaction. I was in Denver in February for a work conference. My last morning there, I decided that instead of meeting my coworkers for breakfast I'd walk around downtown with my camera. It had been 20 years since I left Denver and enjoyed walking along on streets familiar yet strange. This empty lot had a flock of pigeons pecking through the snow for treats and I accidently disturbed them. Not quite ready, I still managed to grab a couple of images of the birds lit from above and below.

It's all about the viewpoint. While camping at Mt Rainier National Park this past summer, I decided to take an evening hike to a waterfall close to camp. I had been there several times before and wasn't sure if I'd be able to create anything. By the time I got to the falls, it was just too dark to really look for a composition. Luckily I had spotted this little trailside waterfall on my way. There was something about the how it fell through the mossy rocks down the hill that said I needed to take my time with the composition to show the drama of this little falls dwarfed as it was in the expanse of the forest. This perspective of looking straight down helps create that drama.

One thing is true about the temperate rainforest on the Olympic Peninsula, life grows where ever it can. On one of my backpacking trips to the rain forest this past spring, I saw this little batch of Bunchberry Dogwood growing in a crevice of this Sitka Spruce - at eye level. Of course I had to photograph it. It is the essence of the story of the Olympic rainforest - that life will find a way to take root and thrive. I love the simplicity and resilience of the little woodland ground cover. The bright white flowers sparkle as 4-petal gems along the forest floor beneath grand stately trees - or, in this case, on the trees. The leaves have beautiful lines that turn gold then red in the autumn. The flowers give way to 3-berry bunches bright red berries. This little plant was growing perfectly placed to offer a cheery hello as we hiked by.

Envy is a powerful emotion. So reviled, it is listed as one of the 7 deadly sins in the bible. But there are 2 sides to envy. The first is the one listed in the bible. The one that eats at you and makes you angry and hurtful. The second makes you strive for better in yourself. This is an image that reflects both of those sides for me. I used to not want to watch YouTube videos of other photographers or read their personal blogs because I was envious of their journeys - both in the world and photography. I wanted what they had and it made me bitter and angry. I always felt as if I was trying to play catch-up with what everyone else was doing. I grew resentful when I saw other photographers capture the images I wanted especially if they had the free time to chase the image - I was stuck at work. Then I found a couple of photographers on YouTube that made me smile and want to do better. Listening to them helped me listen to myself. It helped to remind me that I have my own vision. This image is a result of listening to them and listening to myself, of taking a chance, of not always needing to pursue that big vista wow-factor. A reminder to be me. Thank you YouTube dudes and dudettes.

This is another reminder to be me - although this image is an accident. I have been trying for years to capture the iconic image of Cape Disappointment lighthouse with waves crashing high on the cliffs below. They are amazing images and honestly, I wanted to play with the big boys. I wanted to prove that I too had the ability to capture those images. So I traveled to Cape Disappointment for Christmas because the tides were going to be pretty high and there was a possibility of the crashing waves. But I felt like a hypocrite. I advocate for the smaller places on the planet - that they are photographic destinations no matter how small and that non-iconic images should be created in those places and the larger places. Yet here I was chasing an iconic image. I got the image. Then this happened - while using auto-focus, I focused on the lighthouse which is about a half mile away with a large splashing rock between me & the cliff. Between me and the water was about 20 feet of piled driftwood that waves crashed on. Just as I released the shutter for the wave in back, a wave crashed on the pile of driftwood and magic happened. Funny how magic happens when I go on a photo trip for Christmas.

Don't forget to look at the details. It was still early in the summer as I walked through Billy Frank Nisqually National Wildlife Refuge. Being summer and the world around me filled with rich tones of green the red of these leave drew my attention away from the mossy greens nearby. I was composing an image when the corner of my eye saw something else that seemed out of place - this little green tree frog. "Why yes, of course I will make your portrait little frog."

I had traveled down to the Lewis River in the Gifford Pinchot National Forest for a hike with friends. I was there early having driven down the night before and decided to explore the Lower Lewis River Falls. The light was with low clouds obscuring the sky and created a few images that I was happy with before going back to the car to wait for my friends. Once they got there, we headed back down to the falls before starting on our hike. Just as we were about to leave the clouds broke apart and the sun streamed through through the trees to highlight the falls and one little tree. Drama unfolded before my camera lens and it stays as a reminder of a wonderful day hiking with friends.

This is the first image on my list from my trip to the Canadian Rockies. I went with a group of other photographers for 10 days of exploring and photographing an area I often visited as a child with my family. Our last night in the area, a couple of us went back to a reliable location just outside of Banff township - Vermillion Lakes with an amazing view of Mount Rundle. As I sorted through the thousands of images I came home with, I couldn't stop looking at this image. It's a simple image but everything came together so well in it. The mirrored shapes between the grass in the foreground, water in the midground, and Mount Rundle create balance and symmetry. Then there is the drama between the light, golden clouds on the left and the dark, dramatic clouds on the right. This brings all the joy of the trip back to mind for me.

Another image from my trip to the Canadian Rockies - this time from Jasper National Park. My dad loved Jasper. So much that he often talked about moving here and never coming back. He never did, but our family spent many a vacation here watching bears, photographing mountains, and drinking out of clear streams. On these trips, mom would have one request - to be dropped off at the side of a lake to fish the day away. Dad would leave her on the side of the lake with her rod and a cooler filled with soda and take us girls for a hike.This was one of mom's favorite lakes as they shared the same name - Patricia. We got to the lake late in the day with not much time to explore and as the light began to fade we stumbled across this little scene. For me, it's the perfect way to commemorate my mother's love of fishing on this lake.

Like street photography, dance photography helps to push my boundaries and lets me explore a photography style I normally wouldn't pursue. I discovered an excitement within myself as I began to capture images of dancers gracefully showing their talents. This warm spring day a small group of dancers gathered for a larger group of photographers at Seattle's Gas Works Park for an afternoon of dancing, posing, and friendship. This image stuck out for me since I was able to capture the dancer in mid-leap with Seattle in the background and the effortless look on his face - as if this is just they way he moves through the world.

Another image from the Canadian Rockies (there were so many happy images from that trip). This is one of those images that came together perfectly. I convinced my friend to pull into this rest area/boat launch for the Athabasca River just south of Jasper township because I saw a bull elk in the woods. As people started gathering around the herd of cows close to the river, I thought I should give the herd some space and walked down the river bank a bit. I began photographing the cows as they contemplated swimming the river. Then the bull walked out of the woods onto that little spit of land to watch over them. It was the perfect moment with the herd framing the bull. A few minutes later, the herd began swimming across the river followed by the bull and the moment was over.

The last image in this list is one that is truly special for me. My mother loved owls. Every time I see one, I am reminded of her and feel her close to me. I meandered through the forest at Birch Bay State Park photographing another love of hers - wildflowers on the forest floor. I paused a moment and looked up to see this little Barred Owl watching my progress along the trail. It sat still for a few moments before silently flying to another tree. There was beauty in that moment - a connection between myself, nature, and a memory of love. And a perfect image to say farewell to this fantastic year and welcome the next adventurous year. 

May your new year be filled with adventure, beauty, and self-discovery.

Storytelling and Composition

Pull up a photographer’s YouTube video on composition or read one of a myriad of composition articles and you will be told that a good photograph tells a story. They each give you advice on how to compose your image to tell that story. What is the story you’re trying to tell? Tell the story. Tell your story. Tell a story.

They are not wrong.

But I want to flip this narrative a bit. How about we look at this from another direction. Not from looking at story through photography but looking at photographic composition through story design.

We’re going to be talking theory here to help you frame this concept better. If you want to understand mechanics better, I’ve written a 3-part series on some of the more helpful “rules.” (part 1, part 2, part 3) You might even want to check out part 4 about listening to the scene and telling its story.

You might also want to grab a cup of coffee.

For a brief review, what is composition? It is the structure within your photograph that helps tell a story. It is the order we align the elements in our image to help the viewer comfortably work their way through the image. In writing, we put our stories into structures to create a picture. Our story structures can be immense such as a novel, condensed as in short stories, or concise as in flash fiction.

Let’s look at these more closely and how these structures relate to photography.

The Novel and The Grand Landscape

A novel is a story that is long and complex. Often with several characters and subplots within the main structure of the story. Within the pages of the novel, the characters are developed and have story arcs, we get to know them as friends - celebrate when their lives are going well and cry when they die. The plot and subplots move the reader forward through to the end – we read into the dark hours of morning unable to put the book away, needing to know what happens on the next page. A well-written novel will have layers of meaning that ensnare the reader who days later will be examining the world through the view of the author no matter how distorted or perfect that view is. We yearn for the characters to come to life so we can spend more time with them.

How does this relate to a photograph? Think of your grand landscapes – those landscapes where you are standing at a vista and looking at the world as it unfolds before you. You’re at the edge of a canyon, layers of earth worn away by the river shimmering in the depths of shadow. Or maybe your view is from a cliff overlooking the ocean, waves upon waves undulating to the horizon. Or you come through a thick forest to a precipice and you see before you repeating layers of mountain ridges and peaks leading off to a massive volcano in the distance. What initially draws your eye becomes the main character which then becomes the focal point of your image. The other elements of the image become subplots and minor characters to move the reader through the main plot. Each a layer that enraptures your viewer leads them through the image to become as enthralled with the view as you were. They find it difficult to tear themselves away.

In the photo above, I stood on the side of the road through an area of Eastern Washington on hills high above the Snake River. I could see the hills on the other side of the north end of Hell’s Canyon. This is farming country. This is lonely country. Every time I drive this stretch of road, this barn whispers to me. On this early summer day, it yelled with joy. The barn is clearly the subject of the image – the protagonist of the story. The sky, the sun beams, the hills, the wheat field, the lines of trees in the distance, the hues of light and dark in the clouds, the splashes of sunlight on the hillside. All of these are added elements to help tell the grand tale of this lonely barn on this stormy day. Cropping out these elements and only featuring the barn wouldn’t help tell the story that needed to be told.

The Short Story and The Intimate Landscape

A short story is a fully developed story similar to a novel but much shorter, as the name implies. You will likely only find one primary character and few other characters. The characters, since they don’t have the benefit of many pages for development, become well-known acquaintances – someone you’d meet for coffee a couple of times a year to catch up. Generally, you will read only one plot as the limit on exposition restricts what the author will be able to explore. They are examining the main character in a short timeframe in a limited setting. The subplots, if there are any, cannot distract from the main plot of the story and confuse the reader. In a short story we examine a character and setting that is far more intimate than the novel. At the end of a well-written short story, the reader will feel as satisfied with the outcome as they will feel after a well-cooked meal. We might like to continue reading, but again while the characters and their stories are known to us, they’re not great friends who we end up missing when they are gone.

As we look at the intimate landscape, we can easily see the similarities. We are examining the world through a more intimate view. Like the short story will have a character that we come to know with a developed plot or storyline. We might see an expansive oak in the forest and create our composition with the oak as the main character. All other trees in the forest would be the storyline, the other characters helping to tell the story of the oak. Or does that oak preside over a lonely landscape where the negative space of sky and meadow help tell of its isolation? We won’t be seeing the expanse of the grand view, but the details of a scene that becomes more personal – almost as if we were a part of the scene itself. It is a self-contained image that tells the story of our subject, without extraneous details.

The little cabin above (can we call it a cabin and not a shack?) is a perfect example of the short story as an intimate landscape. We see our main character in a struggle against the elements as rain pummels the decaying wood. We know that this little cabin has already seen hard times with planks missing and its leaning stature. We know all we really need to know of its environment and the toll it has taken on the cabin. We know it has a history, even if the details of that history are not examined. We grow to like this little cabin. We wish it well and hope to see it again one day . . . maybe.

Flash Fiction and The Vignette of Nature

If you have never read Flash Fiction (where have you been?) then know that it is an extremely short story of less than 2000 words. Because is it so short, the author must grab you quickly to immerse you into the world they’ve created in short order. And that’s a pretty good definition – authors of flash fiction are the gourmet short order cooks of writing. They sit you down at the table, serve you a tale that is often a snippet in the life of their character then whisk away the plates. As a reader you are often left with wanting more but realizing that you really don’t need more, you are sated. Just like any story there is a character or more involved in a plot line. But the amount of information we are given is all that we really need.

When we move to comparing this to landscape photography, we see it as the natural vignette – a small portion of the landscape that tells an interesting story. Maybe it’s a group of woodland wildflowers twisted together in a fight for sunlight. A grouping of seashells on a beach tells us all we need to know about those seashells at that point in time. I’m mixing metaphors here but think of it at a scene in shorthand. Just enough to tell the story without writing it out in cursive. Think details. As photographers, we find those details that tell a wonderful story of the landscape as a whole. Our viewer may want to see more but leaves sated.

When we look for story-telling details, we see images as the example here. As viewers, we understand that there is more beyond the frame of the image, but that doesn’t matter. The captivating story is within this section of old wood on the side of the building where someone added a decorative touch of rustic Americana in the form of hub caps and wheel rims to the wall. We get one glimpse of the world beyond in the reflective wheel cover on the right. You have time to appreciate the scene. You may wonder about the person who hung the hub caps yet understand that really this is all you will get and all you really need. The image and story within it are concise.

So, how do you use these ideas in composition?

When you arrive at a location, look for each type of storytelling. Look for the novel or grand landscape allowing your viewer to experience a world of characters, and plot points all culminating in one climatic ending. Find the short stories or intimate landscape to give your viewer a personal view of the area, one where they get to know one character well and follow them through to a conclusion. Then finally search out those compelling details for some flash fiction or natural vignette. Combine all three of these at a location and you will come away with a strong body of work that will sustain your story and the story of place.