The 23rd day of the first month of the year of Emergence

BACK IN THE DAY

I think that term was made popular by the guys on a television show called "Pawn Stars".  But it is appropriate for me, when I talk about first picking up a camera with thoughts of using it other than something to cause my sister make faces.  Somewhere around 1986 the first Willits image was made, and I have not a clue as to what is was or what I was doing.  Some would say I still don't, so for those folks go find some other blog, I won't be offended.   My sister is an accomplished artist/painter as was my mother to a lesser degree.  I can't paint a crooked line and always stand in awe of those that can.  Or carve or sculpt for that matter.

  But I am observant and have found enough victims to buy my stuff to keep me trying to perfect my art.  I am perhaps under some greater illusion that I now actually know what I am talking about.  Well, more confident than  "back in the time".   It's the process folks, the journey and not the end result.  Have no fear, I am not a Picasso and am too fond of my ear to even pretend to be so.

One of my more astute observations is that my eye changed almost immediately when I looked through the view finder on a camera.  This was not a planned thing, but without the camera I had been looking "macro" and with it the "micro"

This was my "macro" view.

Back in the beginning a beautiful woman on the beach in a bathing suit probably meant something to me.  Today, I think but am not sure, I remember why it was so important.  But-------being the nature type of guy I am, I was looking, I am sure, at the waves and the ocean.  At any rate, the eye captures that split second of time which includes another bather and a surfer.  The entire scene or the macro of it all. 

By picking up a camera, I almost instantly noticed that my own view changed, to more of the details of what was happening in front of me.  And when it came to nature, I looked at more of the intricacies of that split second in history and the smaller parts the image.  Maybe we should be called Historians and not Photographers?

I of course learned that I would have to pick my times and places before what I saw became something meaningful.  The hour of the day, the tide, the wind, the cleanliness of the water, the light and whether I could get the image without being dunked in the ocean.  I love the wind to be blowing from inshore out to the ocean, so as to capture the blow back on the crest of the waves.  The lighter colors on the crest and just below add to what I saw, and gives the photo depth.  Who wants to look at half naked women on the beach anyway.

More blow back, but some golds from the sun and a nice curl.  This was probably not a huge wave but still holds the elements of bringing in the sand and taking it away.  What force.  It reminds me of standing on the beach and having the waves remove the sand around my feet until it was over my ankles?  Or the force of the tide that pulled me along the beach in one direction or another.  Or the disorientation after a good body surf on a big wave.  When the ocean seems to want to take me in one direction or another.  Often after a long swim, shoot or play in the ocean, I look at shore to find I have been moved 75 or a 100 yards away from my starting point without even noticing.

So the next time you have a chance to stop and smell the roses, take a closer look at the rose, there's good stuff in there.