A Scenic World

So how does this whole creative process work, anyway?As far as my self-portraits go, they can be put into two categories. The first category is spontaneous shots. These probably account for the majority. They occur when I’m really busy that day, or when I don’t have any ideas, or when I just see some good light somewhere and try to capitalize on it.

The second category is the planned shot. By far, these are my most popular photos. Some of them require far more set-up than others, but the one I took yesterday reflects how most of these planned shots work.

I wake up every morning and have a cup of coffee on my porch. I always have a pen and paper handy so I can write down anything that comes to mind, whether it’s a to-do list for the day, an idea for a project in the future, or my self-portrait for the day.

At the moment, I’m doing an Olympics-and-book theme (yeah, whatever, it helps me to have some structure to the project). So yesterday, I threw around some ideas on paper: “High Bar,” “(Track and) Field,” “Floor Exercise.” Since it was raining, I knew I would have to do an indoor shot, so “Floor Exercise” it was.

Next I sketched out how I wanted it to look. I don’t do this for all my shots, but I do it at least once a week, and these are the ones I usually execute best. Nothing fancy, of course, because I’m not an artist. Just something like this (this is the actual sketch):

Next I had to setup the shot. This involving moving a fair amount of furniture (a bench, my bedside table, my computer chair, and some random cords that usually run behind the bench). I’ve moved my entire bedroom around before for a shot before, but thankfully this one was minimal.

I lost my remote control in Germany, so I had to set the focus for the shot first. The book served as an excellent stand-in for me.

Next, all I had to do was insert myself. I started out wearing a floral print dress and wound up in white pants and white shirt when I saw how nicely the light was bouncing off the white. The exposure was a bit tricky - it took four shots with me changing settings in “Manual” mode to get it right (I almost never get a shot right the first time I try). Note how the reflection on the wall behind me was purely from the reflection:

And there you have it: the making of #47, which made the front page of Explore, yay!

For three straight days, the rain has fallen. When I wake in the mornings, the soft pitter-pat has reminded me that me and my camera would be staying inside. I sat by my open window and watched the rain fall, waiting for the moment I could go outside.Today, the moment finally presented itself. The last drops fell just as the sun broke through the clouds. I threw together my kit - my K200D, the D-FA 100mm Macro, and the FA 31mm in case a self-portrait opportunity should present itself.

I made my way to the duck pond, a place that has become as familiar to me as my own backyard. Almost as soon as I got there, I was faced with all that the rain had wrought: while the grass was greener and the weeds flourished, the flowers had all been pummeled to the ground.

I picked up one purple blossom and twirled it in my fingers. The sun played off the still glistening raindrops. I knew I had my self-portrait for the day.

I continued down to the place where the dragonflies play. I sat for a moment, just breathing in the life around me: damselflies darting from stalk to stalk, lizards scurrying in the bushes, butterflies flitting by. Then I saw a shot. I laid my bag on the grass above me and made my way carefully over the slick rocks to take this:

Almost immediately after I snapped the shutter, a huge snowy white bird soundlessly flew from the bushes to my right, its wings spread so majestically that they seemed to go on forever. It flew directly over me, blacking out the sun for a moment. It could not have been more than two feet above me.

I didn’t breathe.

I watched it soar to the other end of the duck pond and knew I had just had a moment I would never forget.

But there was more to come. I walked to the other side of the stream and found either the most beautiful moth I’d ever seen or the smallest butterfly I’d ever seen. I got down on my knees, my bag jostling against me, to photograph him. He was shy at first, flying nervously about, but he finally saw fit to pose for me.

I decided to make one more pass around the pond. I settled back into the place where I’d taken the first photo and waited to see what I’d see. While I got a secure grip on the rocks, I heard the velcro of my bag. It wasn’t closed properly. I looked inside.

The 31mm lens wasn’t there.

My heart stopped. This is the most expensive lens I’ve ever bought. It’s among my most prized possessions.

My bag had been lain all over the duck pond during the course of the day. The lens could be anywhere. I quickly searched the area where I sat - hard rocks covered with weeds with the stream only inches below me. It occurred to me that the lens could have rolled out and soundlessly made its way into the water.

I walked as quickly as I could around the pond, stopping everywhere I’d stopped on the way, trying hard not to go so fast I wasn’t looking carefully.

Finally, I came to the place where I’d seen the yellow moth/butterfly. And there was the lens.

So many things lost today, and so many found.

Every summer in Florida, it rains. And I don’t mean a few days, or some days, or most days.It rains every day.

I keep wanting to invent words for all the different kinds of rain we get, like all the words the Eskimos have for the different types of snow. I remember last year, I wanted so badly to translate through photography that beautiful, sparkling, dreary rain, and I didn’t know how without getting my camera wet.

Enter the K200D. With the DA* lenses (I own the 16-50/2.8, the 50-135/2.8, and the 200/2.8 - and no, the 300/4 isn’t on the horizon for me, thanks), my kit is “weatherproof,” whatever that means. I’ve decided to interpret that as “rain-approved.”

I had an early meeting at work today, so I got home around 5:30 in the afternoon. It was raining when I got home, of course, but the sun was breaking through the clouds and it was just MAGIC. I ran inside so quickly I didn’t even close my car door properly, ripped off my work clothes, threw on the nearest dress, and grabbed my camera, tripod, and remote. I set up my tripod on my porch and aimed at the very narrow opening between my neighbor’s tree on one side and the other neighbor’s bush on the other. I went and stood in the rain and had enough time to get off about ten shots before the sun went behind a cloud. It never came out again, but I got what I wanted: