Winter Shadows (3/366)

Tree and shadows in sepia and selenium, Albuquerque, NM, Jan. 2012

I took all of three photos today, and none are very exciting so I tried to amp things up with some post-processing shenanigans including a Topaz B&W Effects filter called Sepia & Selenium 3 and a Topaz Detail filter called Soft Looking. It was my first day back to work (internship) in Albuquerque and despite four of six clients cancelling (they're apparently not as ready to jump back into work as I am) it was still a busy day and I only had a moment before sunset to grab a photo. I don't love being indoors all day, but I do love my work, and I love my colleagues for their great company and humor and insights and wisdom.

Winter Coat (2/366)

Precita meditating on the mountains, Magdalena, NM, Jan. 2012

Today's 365 366 shoot took me out to the property, where the dogs got a much-needed run and I communed with our friend Doc's horses. They seem to be weathering our stormy weather just fine; I wish I could be as stoic, but then again I don't have a plush winter coat like they do.

Given how much snow we've had in the past month -- over two feet -- I wasn't surprised to see some major patches left despite several sunny days in the 40s and 50s. The ground is very muddy now, seemingly more so than after any of the summer's rains. This bodes well for spring growth, as long as the winter storms don't go away altogether.

All your chewies are belong to me

"I'll be taking that stick now," says the 5-pound baby dachshund to the 95-pound toddler mastiff

I just had to share these pics from our puppy play date on Friday. The kids got a dachshund puppy, Blue, at their dad's house a few months ago, and she is a real character. The kids bring her to my house sometimes, and as mismatched in size as they are she and Riley are now BFFs after a few play dates. Watching them play is comical, all the more so since Blue constantly steals Riley's bones and sticks and chewies and Riley protests like a little kid whining for Mama, apparently not realizing he outweighs Blue by a factor of 20 or so. What a great lesson in dog play and behavior and dominance; it definitely is not just about size or strength.

"But that's MYYYY bone," whines Riley.

Happy New Year (Day 1 of 366 Photo Project)

Home fire (with ghost kitty?), Magdalena, NM, Jan. 2012

I'm going to try to do a 365 photo project this year (actually, it should be a 366 project since it's a Leap Year). I haven't in the past because my Inner Perfectionista gets upset when I don't do things exactly as they're "supposed" to be done. This year, I will just do my best, and I will also take my camera with me wherever I go, when possible. This is something I want to do anyway to expand my vision and shooting opportunities.

Today's theme (which I might try to spin into the week's theme): Keep the home fires burning. I love having a fireplace, as messy as it can be, and I work hard to keep it filled -- splitting, stacking, and hauling in wood, stocking a few days' worth in the garage for stormy weather, and cleaning out and dumping the endless ashes. It's worth the work both for the ambiance and the savings; while the fire is burning the heater almost never goes on unless it's 10F or colder outside. A wood stove would be much more efficient, so that might be one of next year's home improvements. In the meantime, the dogs and cats and kids and I get plenty of time together during the winter as we gather around the fire every evening. That is priceless.

Do-Over: Two Trees

Two Trees at Sunset, Bosque del Apache NWR, Oct. 2011

It is sunny and WARM (mid-50s) today, so I'll just be a moment before heading outside with the kids and the dogs. Based on feedback I received on the original posting of this photo, I've been wanting to re-process the image to give the trees more "breathing room." I know I tend to crop in too closely, probably fearing that details (like the bird perching atop the dead tree above) will be lost in a larger image, but really the point of landscapes seems to be large ideas rather than small details. I still need to work on that. Meanwhile, here's the revised image, and I do indeed like it much better than my earlier version. I always appreciate feedback, including constructive criticism; nothing like another set of eyes to offer a different perspective.

Ice, Ice, Baby

Icicle detail, Magdalena, NM, Dec. 2011

Icicle at sunset

I never imagined an icicle could look so... alluring.... So my "Appreciate Winter's Unique Beauty" series continues thanks to bountiful ice and snow. Our weather has been off the charts lately; the first official day of winter brought us our fourth winter storm, and this one was a monster for us in central and western New Mexico. The scenery is amazing, though, and just the icicles on my house (now melted) provided some great images. The photo above is not a macro (that would have given better clarity but I couldn't find my macro filter in the Christmas mess) but rather a close-up taken from the image at left. It still has some very cool details and looks like a glass sculpture of a woman's body. I was shocked to see that my camera managed to capture the icicle's surface frost and interior bubbles. More Photoshopping would surely clean up the detail in the reflections, and I'll be looking harder for that macro filter now that I see what this camera is capable of.

Merry Christmas!

My crocheted gingerbread house

What A Real Pro Can Do

Rosy Finch in a whole new light

I asked a friend to help me learn more about Photoshop and bring a bit more "art" to my photos, and WOW did I learn a lot. Watching a professional work was a great experience in itself, and to come up with this result, which may or may not be "finished" (I think it's already fabulous), was beyond what I'd hoped for. So, what am I gonna do during my vacation (besides finally finish my course project)? Play, play, play! And, not that I need another reason to want to hang out with this great person, but hey, I'm sure I'll need a refresher course soon. Next up: a re-do of the hummingbird pictures; thanks to your feedback and my great tutelage I have some ideas of how to make them... outstanding? Well, I'll try.

Post-Processing Experiments: Hummingbird Images Revisited

I am staying up way too late these days playing in Photoshop, lately with the Topaz B/W plug-in. Working with the latter I am finally breaking free of my visual literalism (or whatever you'd call it) to consider what other elements of an image besides stark realism might express the essence of the subject. I always want the most crisp image possible and recall being disappointed when I first opened these images; without a ridiculously expensive fast telephoto lens, hummingbirds are close to impossible to capture "perfectly."

Last night I opened three hummingbird images I took during the summer and started abstracting them; the results were nice, but... still very realistic. Tonight, having had so much fun earlier with today's bird images, I opened the hummingbird images again and went further into abstraction. The blur works here; especially in the top photo I marvel at the clarity of the little dude's eye and head/neck feathers.

I still need to work with the tinting; I see these as a series, perhaps matted or at least hung together, and think the color should be consistent among them. But I can't decide between a warmer or a cooler tone... what do you think?

Birds at Play

Rosy Finch, Digital photo in Opalotype style, Magdalena, NM, Dec. 2011

Dark-eyed Junco

It is still snowing here in Western New Mexico, and it is lovely. I refilled the bird feeders this morning, knowing my little buddies wouldn't be able to get to much of their natural food thanks to our heavy snow today, and here they are, giving me and the kitties a wonderful show. The front feeder has been taken over by doves, who drop enough feed on the ground that I'm hoping some quail will come by later. I don't see them often because I live in town and many dogs roam around, but when the weather keeps the dogs (and people) hunkered down the quail probably feel safer coming out from their brushy cover.

Female Finch

We have a feeder in the back yard, too, and I moved it closer to the sliding glass doors in the living room so I could get some good shots of them feeding and fussing. I used my 55-200mm zoom lens for these images; I was going to sell this lens because I've never been impressed by its optics but decided to hold off to see if it gave better results with the new camera. These are good enough for now, I think. I processed them as always in Photoshop, then ran them through the Topaz Labs B/W Effects filter to add a vintage feel by desaturating (though I never can bring myself to eliminate the color altogether), adding grain and vignettes, and so forth. These images are all done in the "Opalotype" style, which mimics an early photographic process of printing images directly on milk glass (also called opal glass). Like many black-and-white prints opalotypes were often hand-tinted with just a blush of color. I'm in LUVVV with this style, so please bear with me as I work it to death in the next few processing sessions....

Mr. and Mrs. Finch at dinner

The Creative Exchange: Snowfall

Midnight Snow, Magdalena, NM, Dec. 2011

I'm linking up with Lisa and friends at The Creative Exchange, always a showcase for amazing and unique photography. We've had storms blowing through one after another for the past few weeks now, which wouldn't seem unusual for most people this time of year. But I live in New Mexico, and when I tell people in other parts of the country about our snow they exclaim, "But how is that possible??"

I'm no fan of winter weather, but if this recent trend signals the end of our wretched La Nina cycle of the past year and some, I can live with it. For a while.

Intimate Landscapes: Glass Chile, Revisited

Hand-blown Glass Chile, Magdalena, NM, Dec. 2011

Oh, my. The new camera does indeed have a better sensor, providing a much clearer, less noisy image. I had to do a lot less processing to bring out the clarity in this image than I did on those in my previous glass chile post, and good God look at those colors.

I think winter will be a bit more bearable now. Huge thanks to my dad for giving me this camera for Christmas, and for believing in my photography.

Intimate Landscapes: Old Rugged Cross

Rusted Iron Cross Detail 1, Magdalena, NM, Dec. 2011

It's cloudy and raw outside, so the kids and I are staying in... and trying not to get on each other's nerves. (They're annoyed with me at the moment because I won't climb a rickety ladder to try to hoist the 45-pound fake Christmas tree out of the garage rafters....) Today's diversion: photography, with my new camera and the f1.8 35mm lens, and stuff around the house that looks cool in the low winter sunlight.

Rusted Iron Cross Detail 2, Magdalena, NM, Dec. 2011

This cross came from the store/gallery I owned and ran till 2007; I bought it in Juarez in 2006 from an ironworker who had accidentally discovered after a freak rainstorm that his beautifully made crosses looked even better with the rich rusted patina that grows on iron after it is exposed to the elements. This cross looks just divine hung on a whitewashed adobe wall, but since I don't currently have such a wall I can make do with an old tapestry for the backdrop.

Rusted Iron Cross Detail 3, Magdalena, NM, Dec. 2011

I Heart Macro: Morning Frost

Light Morning Frost, Magdalena, NM, Dec. 2011

Close-up of Heavy Frost

Time for I Heart Macro! What a winter we've had already -- two major storms so far and another due on Monday -- and it's not even technically winter yet. Two mornings ago the frost was so heavy on my windshield that it took almost 10 minutes of blasting hot air through the defroster to clear it off. I did think to grab a few photos (including the one in my previous post) with my early Christmas gift, a Nikon D5100 that is a step up from the D3000 I've been using for the past year and a half. The D5100 offers a better sensor and much better light sensitivity, and although I haven't yet figured out most of the settings I was able to grab some pretty cool frost photos while waiting for the car to heat up. The second photo shows a close-up of much larger frost crystals; I ran the image through Topaz Labs' B/W Effects for a quick enhancement and may play around with some tinting later on. I have a sad feeling I'll be getting lots of frost and snow images this winter... yes, we need the precipitation, but I can live without the cold and the inconvenience of being stuck at home when I'd rather be out working or playing.

Winter's Bone

Looking up through morning frost, Magdalena, NM, December 2011

"I prefer winter and fall, when you feel the bone structure in the landscape - the loneliness of it - the dead feeling of winter. Something waits beneath it..."
-Andrew Wyeth

I don't agree with the "prefer" part of this quote; I much prefer the lush abundance of summer and the easy living that comes with the long, warm days. Winter drives me indoors, away from the sun and fresh air, and the short days leave me slightly bereft, especially in these weeks around Winter Solstice. Winter's Bone, a stark depiction of loss and redemption in rural Missouri, highlights both the cold, grim harshness of midwinter and the bone-deep resilience we summon to survive it. I'll be calling on my reserves a lot this winter and will also be hoping for a trip someplace warm before long to refill the well....

Slouching Toward Solstice

The days are short,
  The sun a spark
Hung thin between
  The dark and dark.

-John Updike, "January"

Post-Processing Experiments: Toning and Tinting

Dog stole my chair.

No running water thanks to an unexpected hard-enough freeze. More snow on the way. And then I go to sit by the fire, one of winter's few pleasures (for me), and my seat is taken. Fine then, I'll just go crawl into bed and hibernate. I think bears hibernate not just to save energy but to spare themselves the inconveniences of winter. Maybe I'm projecting a bit....

I used a flash on this photo, the effects of which I always end up hating, so I ran it through Topaz's B/W effects plug-in and took away most of, but not all of, the color. Riley is a bit out of focus, something to check more carefully next time.

Quiet Morning

Winter orchids, Dec. 2011.

The Dark of December

Fuchsia in bloom, Magdalena, NM, Dec. 2011

I posted this poem about a year ago, and it bears repeating as we in the Northern Hemisphere slump toward the darkest day of the year.


I heard a bird sing
In the dark of December
A magical thing
And sweet to remember.

"We are nearer to Spring
Than we were in September,"
I heard a bird sing
In the dark of December.

-Oliver Herford

We do get "real winter" here in New Mexico, USA, but thankfully we also get a lot of sun, which I can enjoy all winter thanks to two large south-facing sliding glass doors. Last year I packed trays of greens and then seed starts onto open shelves in these sunny spaces, a successful endeavor I plan to repeat along with overwintering some tender perennials I can't bear to leave to the elements. Fuchsias have always been among my favorite plants. They're a bit temperamental -- they need conditions that are not too hot, not too cold, not too sunny, not too dim -- but I persist in growing them and did quite well with this plant on the shady front porch this summer.

As cold weather descended, I decided to see if it could overwinter inside, and so far, so good. I took these shots with my 35mm f1.8 lens, which is getting a lot of use these days because I'm snowed in and bored almost to tears because, really, I'm not much of a homebody. I want to be outside. All the time, or close to it, or at least by an open window. I did make it outside for a while yesterday to sweep and shovel snow, dust off and bring in wood for the fireplace, and play with Maggie and the dogs just before the sunset, which probably kept me from losing my marbles altogether.

We are nearer to spring....

Fuchsia buds, Magdalena, NM, Dec. 2011

Snow Day

Sleepy pup, Magdalena, NM, Dec. 2011

We got 10 inches of snow up here yesterday, followed by a biting cold front that drove the temperature down to -5 by midnight. This all made for treacherous roads (even major lengths of I-25 were closed until late this morning) that probably won't be safe to drive for another day or so, so I had to cancel on five clients today and am trying to keep from going crazy with cabin fever. The dogs and the cats are all bouncing off the walls, literally except for Lucy, but every time I open the door to let them out they rear back and glare at me as if to say, "What is this -- make it WARM!" I guess I could catch up on paperwork and coursework and cleaning, but I'd much rather be working with clients and socializing with colleagues after several days of being housebound. Maybe the dogs and I will walk around town so I can get some photos and they can, well, sniff everything like dogs do, and run and play, and burn off some energy. I guess winter is really here, dang it.

Still Life in Glass and Geode

Hand-blown glass chile on geode fragment, Magdalena, NM, Dec. 2011

One benefit of staying in on a wintry day is looking closely at everyday objects and figuring out ways to see them differently. I used my somewhat neglected 35mm f1.8 lens for these shots; it's a very fast lens, which I don't really need outdoors, and the shallow depth of field that happens at such a low f-stop doesn't work well with moving critters or wind-tossed flowers. Yesterday, stuck indoors in low light, I had a chance to rediscover its versatility and unique perspective. I gave this glass chile, made by an Albuquerque artist, to my mom two years ago, and the geode fragment came from a hike I took way up into the Magdalenas last summer. Nothing compares to natural light, and the weather was so volatile today that these shots, taken maybe five minutes apart, show an entirely different sky in the background as clouds tumbled from the mountains into town.

I Heart Macro: Staying In

Angel Wing Begonia, Magdalena, NM, Dec. 2011

Last winter I gave myself the assignment to explore winter colors and textures, and though I doubt I'll ever grow fond of the season I did enjoy gaining a new perspective on its subtle natural beauty. This year I'm revisiting the assignment and, for now at least, will be exploring what might be termed "intimate landscapes," that is, the small beauties I find and create within my and others' homes this season. This shot was just what I was hoping to present for this week's I Heart Macro. The begonia plant, still a baby, was a cutting from a dear friend's plant (hers is easily 6 feet tall) and has graciously decided to begin blooming just as winter finishes off the last of my tender flowering plants outside. I got some other nice indoor shots today that I'll share during the week as I find time to Photoshop them. I hope you all have a good week.

"Limited Edition" -- Yeah, that's it.

Riley the cock-eared, knock-kneed, bigfoot mystery mutt, June 2011

Still a cock-eared bigfoot goofball, and we love him for it

I saw a great sign today: "You're not weird; you're a limited edition."

I will totally be using that line with my clients this week, especially the teenagers.

Not that being "weird" is a terrible thing, right? Kids call each other weird as a put-down (adults do, too, but usually behind each other's backs because, you know, we're so much more civilized than mere children), and everyone is afraid of being "weird." Yet the most memorable, approachable, endearing people (and animals) I've known have all been "weird" as in different, unusual, quirky, eccentric.... Maybe it's something a person can better appreciate in others as well as self with age and wisdom. I find it fascinating that "weird" is also a noun that derives from an old Scottish word meaning destiny or fate -- it seems fitting, given that some people, at least, move away from "normal" as they age and free themselves to explore and express their unique selves.

Ballad of a Runaway Horse

Precita, Drago, and Blaze roaming the range, Magdalena, NM, June 2011

Since June I've had the great pleasure of being able to go out to my dad's property north of town not only to let the dogs run and enjoy the stillness but also to commune with a small band of horses belonging to friends. It has taken some time to get to know them, for them to trust me and for me to tune into and read their cues so I don't scare or push them away. Now, even if I forget to bring them treats, they seem pleased to see me and usually walk with me and the dogs for a while before heading off to graze on their own. They are proving to be very therapeutic company both for their calm, centered presence and as occasional mirrors for issues I can't see or understand using my "rational," word-dependent left brain.

La bella Precita

Precita, the lone mare in the group, was skittish with me in the beginning and I had to approach her slowly, but over time her trust has grown and now she's usually the first one to find me and the last one to wander away. Sometimes when I'm standing or sitting among the horses she comes up to me and gently nuzzles my hand or even rests her big mug on my shoulder. Other times she comes up and nudges me, then dances away with a little crow-hop and buck as if to say, hey, loosen up -- find your Inner Mustang and play a little, or just bolt and run, whatever it takes to get away from that dust devil kicking up in your head. No words, no analysis, just play for a change.

Today Precita trots up to greet me and nudges my arm just as I'm focusing my camera on a nice shot of near-twins Blaze and Drago mirroring each other perfectly. I'm still feeling raw about something that happened yesterday, and I'm so intent on getting a perfect photograph -- what, am I on assignment from National Geographic here? -- that I push her back and she snorts, which startles Drago who looks like he might break the mirror pattern. Prescita once again nudges me gently and, annoyed that the camera gets shaken again, I put an elbow to her jaw and exclaim "Git!" She rears back from me and then puts her head down by her hooves to rub it, and it's then that I see the chunk of half-dead cholla caught in her mane just behind her ears, the long thorns likely digging deep into her neck. I realize Precita is in fact trying to tell me something important. I can't "hear" her because my head is churning with my own stuff that compels me to callously bat away this creature who simply wants to stand near me and, by the way, would I be so kind as to remove this awful thing digging into her neck.


Just as I reach up toward her, Precita turns tail and bolts up the hill, stopping for a moment to buck the living crap out of some imaginary demon riding her and yanking the reins and spurring her flank raw, then charges over the crest and out of sight. I thought, wow, that's some hell of a tantrum, girl. A hour or so later, as I'm sitting on a rock watching the other horses graze, I feel a soft nudge at my shoulder. I slowly raise my hand to her and she nuzzles it gently, standing quietly behind me as if to say, okay, I'm done now, I'm back, we can be friends again. And finally, I get the cholla out of her mane.

I'm glad she trusted me enough to come back, eventually.

I know that sometimes we forget how to use our words.

And sometimes we just don't want to use our words. Sometimes bolting and bucking and running far away feel so much better than stammering and struggling to say just the right words. We run away just to get it all out, just to say, fine, you weren't really listening anyway so to hell with you. (For now.)

Humans can be really dumb sometimes. They ignore or mistreat or take for granted those who care about them, four-legged and two-legged, then wonder why they get left behind in a cloud of dust. A few wise ones ponder their part in what happened, wait and hope for their runaway friend to come back, and do their best not to callously provoke another galloping tantrum. I understand why Precita runs: she's been penned up and reined in hard and spurred raw, and she never wants to go there again.

A True Companion

Lucy on ranch patrol, Magdalena, NM, Nov. 2011