They made me get out of the car..

..these "photography opportunities", that is.

I was on my way to scout a location for a corporate photo shoot when I made a wrong turn into a loading dock–something that happens all too often thanks to my not-so-accurate GPS, and superb sense of misdirection.  It was dusk, my favorite time of day.

This photo of pine trees was rotated and converted to black and white so as to show you, the viewer, what I saw when I made it.  I want you to see the shapes: the positive and negative space, without thinking too much about the subject matter.

Seeing this shot from inside a warm car, and knowing that the camera was in the double-locked trunk, one might have driven off.  Aha! But not I. No..I didn't hesitate for a second in shutting off the engine, enduring the freezing outdoor temperature, opening my trunk, and firing up my Canon. I used to pass up these types of shots all the time, telling myself that I could revisit this spot at anytime to photograph it when I wasn't running late, or when I had my tripod with me so that I could get a sharper exposure.  In fact, I even sometimes noted the time of day for that "future trip".  But I learned over time that backtracking my steps to do so rarely occurred.  And if I wanted to stretch my mind, creatively, I would have to, every once in a while, stop to make the picture.

I've been trying to use the phrase "make the picture" instead of "take the picture" as of late--and no, this has nothing to do with Photoshop, specifically.  It's a phrase that a professor, one Jaclyn Cori-Newman from SCAD (Savannah College of Art & Design) once used during my living-off-of-student-loan days; a phrase I obviously never forgot.  It had to do with "dodging and burning", where as one would allow more or less light to shine from the enlarger, through the negative, and onto the photosensitive paper, creating the latent image.  This process, per Jaclyn's tutelage, was "making the photo".  Made sense. It empowered the artist with the creativity for additional personal interpretation, outside of the camera body and lens.  I remember that for me, a still wet-behind-the-ears photo student, this process epitomized the meaning of "to be in awe"--much like developing a print for the first time.

One of my first photos ever taken with an SLR (Single Reflex Camera) was that of a gateway to someone's Victorian-style home in Savannah, GA.  It wasn't a very interesting gate as a straight print.  But after burning the edges around the photo, or vignetting, was suggested--a term all to familiar nowadays what with all the image editing software--the print was an entirely different beast.  

My last photo taken today was this one.  As I exited the building, I stopped, took my camera out, and in the middle of a crowd of people all hungry to leave their 9-6, pointed up and photographed this shape in the window.  I never used to enjoy minimalism when I began studying art, but have grown to love it. And if it doesn't float your boat, well then by all means, go on to my next blog entry!  But if it does evoke anything in you at all, embrace it! 

I'm not sure why it moved me so much, but it did.  And since it did, I captured it: not only for my selfish, simplistically artistic pleasures, but as a learning tool, for both of us!  

Try training your mind to recognize and appreciate these shapes, be them simple or complex, throughout the journeys in your lifetime.  It might open up a whole new train of thought and enlightenment!  Man..that's deep stuff!