I’ve heard that a scene often becomes more interesting in a photograph if it includes a person, much like a play or movie set can merely be considered a “prop” until the actors do their thing. I don’t always agree, but perhaps we humans are egocentric that way – our eyes are so frequently drawn to our own image.
While I love landscapes and architecture that aren’t marred by the presence of tourists, it’s true that I’ve made many photos which were pretty dull due to the lack of a living, breathing being.
The trouble is, my introverted self isn’t always in the mood to photograph people, especially strangers. In fact, when I go out wandering with my camera, I’m usually trying to avoid them. I have huge admiration for street photography, but I’m far too uncomfortable – at this point, anyway – to be any good at it.
But here and there I manage to find a scene I like – and, lo and behold – a person happens to be there, too. Said person is usually far away, and therefore, very small. While the distance helps avoid any confrontations, embarrassment, or privacy issues, I’ve also learned that it may not actually help the photo if the figures are so tiny that the viewer mistakes them for specks of dirt.
You may have to play a game of Where’s Waldo? to find the humans in these photos, but I can assure you that they’re in there (if in doubt, look for specks of dirt).
Turns out that “Wiggling the Camera” is not the official term for the technique I used to make these photos. I learned that it’s actually called “Intentional Camera Movement”, or “ICM” for short. It sounds a little bland and stuffy, in my humble opinion, though I suppose it does win points for accuracy.
I Intentionally Moved the Camera during a long-ish exposure time (shutter speed of 1/4 second) to achieve an abstract, painterly look here.
Whatever it’s called, I like it.
You may already know that winter isn’t my cup of tea. At this point in the season I’m usually huddled indoors, pale and depressed, counting the minutes until spring. But I can say that, surprisingly, I think I’ve finally begun to appreciate the glint of the sun on the snow, the lines and texture of bare tree limbs reaching up and away, the otherworldly peace as dense drifts of snowflakes end their travels piled in a thick blanket on the earth.
In line with this startling revelation, here are a couple of treeline shots I made yesterday after a brief snowfall. As you can probably tell, I was in somewhat of a reflective, minimalist mood.
I may be pale, but at least I’m venturing out from beneath my comforters every once in a while.
My apologies: I’ve been neglectful of this space, haven’t I? Fortunately, my camera has been busy – I’ve begun another personal project (maybe more on that later) – and while I’ve kept on top of following my favourite WordPress blogs, I have missed posting here regularly.
But today deserves some attention because it’s the Mr.’s birthday. Here’s a guy who’s willing to stand on potentially dangerous ledges and outcrops of wet rock so that I can make photos. To be clear: it’s HIS idea to stand on dangerous ledges and outcrops of wet rock. If it were up to me, he’d be standing at a reasonable, safe distance from the water at all times. Maybe wearing a life jacket, just in case. But those pictures would surely put you to sleep.
Anyhow, anxiety and slippery rocks aside, my mightiest birthday wishes go out to my partner of nearly twenty years. He’s kind, generous, smart, funny, and patient. Also, easy on the eyes. I don’t know how I was lucky enough to nab him.
Honey, I celebrate you.
And the fact that you didn’t fall into the lake.