There's nothing quite like an aquarium with dramatic lighting for capturing phyla-without-faces. These were taken at the Hatfield Marine Science Center in Newport, Oregon, while waiting for my step-cousin (?) to give a whale talk as part of her current internship. Unfortunately, we missed the whale talk, but we did get a behind-the-scenes tour complete with a sneak peak at Pearl, the new octopus currently in quarantine and hidden from visitors. Don't worry, you can watch Pearl in her isolation tank from home on the "octocam." The former octupant was Ursula, who was released from... a cooler on December 23rd. Pearl was so named because she was acquired by the center on December 7th, on the 70th anniversary of the attack on Pearl Harbor.
But enough about things with lots of legs, here are some photos of things with lots of... things:
Now that I have more megapixels at my disposal, and several new editing programs, and a faster computer, and faster internet, I wonder if all of these posts about my South Waterfront buildings so patiently waiting in my queue are going to disappoint me.
Probably. But there's nothing quite as satisfying as looking back at a photograph you thought was amazing, and realizing that it's nowhere near as good as you're eventually going to get. I present views #19, #20, and #21. At this point in my quest, I have left the traffic and actually parked in the neighborhood. These shots are from walking around. I originally wanted to get some good shots from the tram, but the tram shots weren't nearly as interesting as the ones I got from the ground. The rest will be posted soon, in groups of 3, until we get to see all 36 Views of South Waterfront, together at last.
Everyone has their own family holiday traditions. For several years, ours has been to bundle up in warm and waterproof clothing, grab the camera gear, and perch on rocky outcroppings on the Oregon coast until it's too dark to see.
_Timing is crucial, of course, so when I arrived on Christmas Eve, I had about enough time to put my stuff down and use the restroom before we raced to the water's edge to beat the sunset.
_On Christmas Day it was the same story; 100% of the time between the end of opening presents and the end of the solar part of the day was spent shooting.
Of course, with a nearly rainless December so far, there was definitely precipitation to contend with on our planned shooting days, but precipitation always makes for more dramatic clouds.
This year marked my first attempt at HDR. I don't know why I hadn't tried it before now, but I love it. I will be refining my technique in attempt to be a bit more subtle about it, but it's hard to steer myself away from such great colors!
Rapidly changing light conditions are a bit tricky to deal with, but it is also the best time of day to capture dramatic beach scenes. Some shots I have to just let go because if I spend too much time fiddling with the camera, I won't get to see it at all, let alone get a photograph that will do it justice.
There were just a few anemones in the tide pools, but I got a few more shots of their cousins at the Hatfield Marine Science Center the next day. I'll post some of those later.
_Not every shoot is successful, but after a couple of days, I usually come away with something good.
My yields from Christmas 2009 and Christmas 2010 were pretty good (the bitter cold and sideways rain of 2010 inspired my mother to knit me the world's greatest photography gloves, with little slits in the pointers and thumbs so I can still work my camera controls without removing them). One more late addition below: Kick Ass Oregon History is hosting a Diorama Contest! Since entries for this contest are in the form of photographs, I thought the contest lent itself well to a diorama that doesn't hold up to transport, or, well, time. My Oregon History diorama chronicles the Tillamook Burn. I was quite pleased that an angry fire demon decided to appear for one of my shots. Participants can earn an extra 5 points by bringing their physical creation to the Stumptown Stories show on January 17th at The Jack London Bar (529 SW 4th Ave Portland). Do you think there's any chance I'll get the full 5 points for bringing in my pan of charred remains? Click the photo above to enlarge it, or any of the photos below for a little slide show. What is your favorite part of your state's history? If Oregon is your state (or even if it's not) and you want to create your own Oregon History diorama, entries are due by January 15th, 2012
I have been trying for quite some time to get some satisfactory bokeh, especially with all of the available lights around the holidays. On an Oregon History outing with my friend Lisa, we found some excellent lights (as well as some excellent insight into the locations of multiple candy kettles in late 1800s Portland, Oregon). I especially love the unexpected bokeh on her glasses!
For the "Life is Art" photo challenge. I don't remember if there was an actual cliff here or a sweeping vista. All I remember is that my brother stepped up on the rocks just enough above me to make it look like he was at the top of the world. We happened to run into a friend of my brother's that day in Shenandoah National Park, which is strange because we were 2,850 miles from where any of us lived. Small world, I guess.
__The following was originally written by Rosemarie Urquico.
Date a girl who reads. Date a girl who spends her money on books instead of clothes. She has problems with closet space because she has too many books. Date a girl who has a list of books she wants to read, who has had a library card since she was twelve. Find a girl who reads. You’ll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag. She’s the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she finds the book she wants. You see the weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a second hand book shop? That’s the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow. She’s the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she’s kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author’s making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted. Ask her if she likes the book. Buy her another cup of coffee. Let her know what you really think of Murakami. See if she got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Understand that if she says she understood James Joyce’s Ulysses she’s just saying that to sound intelligent. Ask her if she loves Alice or she would like to be Alice. It’s easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas and for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry, in song. Give her Neruda, Pound, Sexton, Cummings. Let her know that you understand that words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but by god, she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does. She has to give it a shot somehow. Lie to her. If she understands syntax, she will understand your need to lie. Behind words are other things: motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It will not be the end of the world. Fail her. Because a girl who reads knows that failure always leads up to the climax. Because girls who read understand that all things will come to end. That you can always write a sequel. That you can begin again and again and still be the hero. That life is meant to have a villain or two. Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop. Except in the Twilight series. If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 am clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of tea and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, they always are. You will propose on a hot air balloon. Or during a rock concert. Or very casually next time she’s sick. Over Skype. You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots. Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads. Or better yet, date a girl who writes.
So, there I was at 4 am on the banks of the Willamette River, just north of the Hawthorne Bridge, all ready to watch an incredible lunar eclipse. I was able to get 2 or 3 shots as the moon peeked in and out of the fog—but then the fog won. It thickened and covered the space-where-the-moon-should-be and never relented.
I waited patiently on the Esplanade, hoping for a hole in the fog so I could capture a perfectly timed glimpse of the moon setting behind the city, but no such luck. There were a few other intrepid eclipse-watchers and photographers, but all of them arrived after the thickening of the fog. At least I got to see a little bit. Timing is of the essence in quests such as this one. My friend John Waller of Uncage the Soul is pretty good at the timing thing. I saw some preliminary shots he and a friend nabbed during the eclipse of not only the moon in full red eclipse mode, but also with an airplane right in front of it! Timing for the win! John's most recent epic adventure in excellent timing is chronicled below: _If blood will flow When flesh and steel are one Drying in the color Of the evening sun Tomorrow's rain Will wash the stains away But something in our minds Will always stay Perhaps this final act was meant To clinch a lifetime's argument That nothing comes from violence And nothing ever could For all those born Beneath an angry star Lest we forget how fragile we are On and on the rain will fall Like tears from a star Like tears from a star On and on the rain will say How fragile we are How fragile we are On and on the rain will fall Like tears from a star Like tears from a star On and on the rain will say How fragile we are How fragile we are How fragile we are How fragile we are "Fragile" by Sting Installments 16-18 in my 36 Views of South Waterfront series. |
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