Shadow Dancing

One of my favorite quotes on photography comes from Julia Margaret Cameron, the 19th century British portraitist who took up photography late in life and said of her first experience:

“From the first moment I handled my lens with a tender ardour, and it has become to me as a living thing, with voice and memory and creative vigour.”

That quote is the inspiration for my Instagram tag, tender_ardour, which of course is also the name of this Blog.

I have to laugh when I think of the first time I held and used a camera myself. I was 8 or 9 years old and I was thrilled when my dad let me try out his old 110 camera. These were introduced by Kodak in 1972 and the technical quality wasn’t great. I didn’t understand why the scenes I composed in my mind weren’t fully realized in the final prints, but I was getting a taste.

When I was 10, my best friend, Andrea and I borrowed her dad’s 35mm camera for the day and took turns photographing in her neighborhood. I was getting hooked, and I longed for a camera of my own.

My older sister, Eve saved up her babysitting money and got one of the first Kodak Disc cameras that came out in the 80s. On a family trip through South Dakota, she let me take a few shots with it. We hiked together in the Badlands and I photographed our shadows cast on the side of one of the towering buttes at dusk, its spire still glimmering orange and purple hues as the sun light softened in the distance. The scene was ideal for a camera of any quality to capture something wonderful.

Our parents had the film processed at a drug store somewhere along the way and we got to see the pictures the next day. My father was a man of few words, which is why some of my most vivid memories from childhood are moments when he spoke directly to me. He told me that if I ever entered a photography contest, I should submit that picture of my sister and I shadow dancing in the Badlands of South Dakota.

When I was 15 and entering 10th grade, I signed up for photography courses through a program called Career Center, which was offered through the Omaha Public School system as part of the high school curriculum. My parents lent me the money to purchase my own 35mm camera for that program. It was a Pentax K1000, and I used it throughout much of my time as a BFA student at the Kansas City Art Institute as well. Then I started experimenting with medium formant cameras. The first one I acquired was a Yashica mat 124 and later, when I started grad school for photography in Buffalo, I purchased a Pentax 67, and eventually a Hasselblad 500c.

I now shoot digitally almost exclusively, and I’ve owned numerous DSLRs. The technology is vastly different than when I was tinkering with my Dad’s old 110 camera as a kid, and it continues to evolve. For me, the feeling of excitement when holding that camera for the first time came more from the creative possibilities brought on by a new tool, than from the tool itself. All these years later, I still get that feeling when I set out to take pictures wherever my camera leads me.

Catch Me if You Can

I have finally taken the first few steps toward a goal I’ve secretly held for most of my adult life, but I’ve never had the nerve to truly commit myself to accomplishing.  Thanks to some friends encouraging me and two people in particular leading the way, I have now joined a beginning running group.  We are starting off slowly and working our way up to running a 5k in September.  As a group we run two times a week and we have a schedule of activities to do on our own as well.  My favorite running spot in Buffalo is Hoyt Lake at Delaware park. Here are some Insties I took on my cool down walk after a recent run.

Sydney in the Universe

FullSizeRenderOn my last evening in Sydney I decided to go for a walk after a long and productive day at work. By the time I started out, the sun had just started to set, but the light was still suitable for “Magic Hour” shooting.  I wandered around Darling Harbor and quickly took a few snaps before the light changed and night time began to slowly fall all around.

I decided to head in the direction of the Sydney Opera House next.  This is a walk I’ve taken many times during daylight hours, and even in early evening once during a visit in 2013 when I met colleagues for drinks at Opera Bar.  But something was different this time.

It was about a 40 minute walk to the opera house from my hotel and by the time I approached Circular Quay it was dark.  The walkway by the water leading to the opera house was illuminated by globed street lamps and light pouring from the many restaurants and bars along the way.  When I finally arrived, I was fully in awe.  I really felt like I was at the center of the universe in that moment.  Like so many of the evenings during my time in Australia, I was totally alone, and yet in those few moments, I felt like I was connected to everything.  I took a number of shots before heading back and I’ve compiled a medley of some of the images below to remind me.

The Allure of Wind Turbines – VII

As an artist with a full-time job that I’m also very dedicated to, I have to find ways to stay sharp in my artistic practice.  I call it creative yoga.  Time for getting out and about photographing is not always plentiful.  I usually just photograph wherever I am in my travels, which is how the Newspaper Series came to be.

This little side project centered around a playful searching for wind turbines has been fun.  It reminded me of the days when I was an art student and the only way I could see the world was if I hopped in my car, or my boyfriend’s car and drove off onto the open road.  I’ve seen much of the US that way.  Since moving to Buffalo, I’ve made it a regular practice to drive around WNY during Fall months photographing the fiery landscapes bursting with crimson, orange and gold.  With winter looming and more travel away from the area ahead, I may have to wait until next Fall to pick up from here.  I very much look forward to it.