So I decided to jump off the deep end and upload a karaoke video of me singing. Yes. KARAOKE.
Perhaps at some point I may even upload a beeraoke video- who knows.
Let’s get this party started.
And I realize I have the bedhead going on, and I look like the proverbial tormented artist.
Alas, that is because I am the proverbial tormented artist.
“Never Is a promise” by Fiona Apple. No- by me, written by Fiona Apple.
I like that better.
Well my head has been splitting open for going on two days straight.
Even so, I had a little melody playing today in my heart when I woke up.
I layed out the skeleton this morning, and pretty much made up the last bits as I went along. It’s still in its concept form.
(I used an alias at YouTube. I’m enjoying my little bloggy hiding place here. Very, very quiet. Nice. 🙂
I’m realizing only today why I’m so creative. Because I’ve had to improvize my whole life. Having next to nothing to work with, forces you to try harder. You have no choice but to experiment because you really don’t know what else to do. Over time, your style becomes defined, refined, and unmistakable.
Having to sell my rig, more than once, I was left with only my Canon G3. It’s a 4 MP dinosaur. Because I had nothing else, I decided to not only learn how to shoot in B&W + manual, but revel in it.
That was about two years ago. I’ve been shooting for about 7, but B&W rules me. I’m completely infatuated with the marriage between light and shadows. To me, black and white is already a story. The images within an image become the actors on the stage, or props, I suppose, but even if you have only one blank wall, and a cheap camera set up to photograph that wall, with a bit of natural window lighting hitting it (through parted curtains, say), then the clouds passing over the sun become the filters. The passing clouds increase and decrease the gamma and contrast naturally.
The story of B&W is one of masculinity and femininity. Life and death. Hot and cold. Love and hate. When stripped down to their very elements, they are in their most powerful state. I have little interest at the moment in HDR, filters of this or that kind- and while they’re great (and I have experience in those as well) I can’t escape the beauty of being stripped down to almost nothing, and simply working with what ya got.
That’s not to say I photograph things in the nude.
I’m experimenting with a new webcam I got. It’s a cheapie $18.00 Logitech. But it’s capable of shooting in B&W (Heaven……….!) and so I’ve been sitting here in my computer chair, painting shadow swans on my wall with my hands. When I move my hands back and forth to and away from my chest, the shadows become elongated horizontally. Such a simple action. But it changes the dynamics of everything.
And here are some snappies:
This is generally how I feel several times a week.
“Ahhh…..close the curtains!”
(Migraines make the light absolutely unbearable.) Oh, and I wasn’t faking it. I did indeed wake up with a migraine.
I intentionally bleached the lighting, and jacked up the gamma so the blacks would be double heavy.
Choppy, grainy, bleeding contrast, toasted exposure- what’s not to love?
(Yes, yes, I’m kidding.) But the shadows on my neck from my fingers are intentional.
It’s a fair statement to say that I am obsessed with shadows.
Perhaps I’ll post a video today.
My BFF, Josh, playing the guitar. Lensbaby Composer Pro/Double Glass /2.8
My daughter, Heidi, in another one of her gravity-defying moves- taken recently on the tracks.
Between my photography and her modeling, I’d say we make a swell team.
My daughter, Heidi, down at the tracks.
She’s 1/2 Italian, and so I was going for the look of Italian Vogue.
We had been up all night, and I shot 246 shots of her there.
Sleep deprivation is like a poor man’s high.
Kicks in the creativity!
Another one from the shoot.
Heidi is a natural, and a brilliant model.
Lensbaby Composer Pro/Double Glass /4
Canon Rebel XTI
Natural lighting/manual exp.
“When I die, I don’t want everybody standing around like birds gawking; wondering if I’m still breathing or not. Who wants that?” I asked my son.
“I would want everyone to carry on normally.”
I realize this would be a tall request. And really, it isn’t altogether fair to ask someone to give you something that they may not be capable of giving.
“I don’t think people are afraid of dying, really,” said he. “I think people are afraid that others will forget about them. We’re all alike. We just want to be remembered.”
I smiled. “You have wisdom above your years, son,” still smiling.
Yes. I suppose we do.