Forest Roses

Sometimes I fret that I overuse the word gratitude. That it might be a cliché to say, over and over again, how grateful I am.
And then I remember, there can never be enough gratitude.

I stood in the forest, marveling over the delicate pink roses growing wild, climbing like vines along tree branches. I tried to take their picture at different times over the course of three different days. Because the forest is dense there wasn’t enough light for the ISO 400 film loaded in my camera. So I had to go home, get the tripod and try again. I waited for pockets of sun to make their way through the trees, and then worried that those small spotlights would record as blown out highlights with no detail at all. I hoped the film would be forgiving. I don’t have a cable release for the film camera (though I’ve ordered one now) so I tried using the timer to see if I could make for a longer exposure. I’m really not a very technically proficient photographer, so these images were mostly a holy grail. Still, it was rewarding to try, and the results are a decent tribute to magic of perseverance.

Weekend Getaway

We spent a few days exploring Matthews County and the small towns along the North River and the Chesapeake Bay in Eastern Virginia. We visited the natural areas of Haven Beach and Bethel Beach where I had some challenges trying to see the potential for pictures. I know beach and water pictures come easily to many photographers, but I am often overwhelmed by big, beautiful places. It takes me a good long while to settle in and begin to feel the rhythm of a place before I can begin to lift the camera to my eye. When we returned home, I had a package waiting for me. The absolutely stunning book, Big Waters by David Rathbone (printed by Saw & Mitre Press). I spent the next few days poring over the book’s pages, studying each photograph carefully. I am grateful to David for introducing me to new ways to see and photograph the shores of Virginia’s waters.

Things I Love about Film

Working with film requires me to be kinder to myself, to detach myself from the end result.
It requires more experimentation, more looseness, more lightness.

 
 

When I ask myself what I want to do, the answer is always the same. Take pictures. It just feels so right.

And when I wonder how to make pictures that connect with others, I remind myself that my human frailty needs to be visible in order for things to feel real.