Prime Lens

Drift and Blur, A Teacher’s June …

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A teacher’s year end contains the drift and blur of one week’s movement into another, the flex and flux within a sea of ever-changing tasks – it can be a time with little demarcation of days and weeks; there’s only more and more and more of school until that one morning when you wake up to find void in all that’s made up your previous ten months vocation. You note absence of routine, absence of schedule and absence of bells. From frenetic to calm and then to taking hold of your life – the first two weeks are hardest in this transition.  It’s the initial unwind and decompression from the year you’ve lead students through, a time to settle in, settle down and a time to settle upon summer plans. But, we’re not there yet. Now, teachers count number of sleeps until school is done. Now, teachers whet their appetite for summer with barbecues and games of golf. Now, few teachers are reading books of interest. Many are marking assignments and tests late into the evening. Many are thinking through how best to help students review for finals. All are working through how to balance what has been taught against what remains to be taught within the time left. Those teachers with experience have managed time well, met all curriculum outcomes and are turning their focus to helping students conclude their year well – helping them to recognize what they’ve achieved and to anchor this self-knowledge within their self-esteem.

Within a few weeks, staff will cluster at year-end dinners and barbecues; they too will be looking at all their year has held – the successes and the challenges; and they’ll work to put issues to bed and leave them behind in the year that was. Already, we’ve held an awards night, a night celebrating staff’s years of service to students as well as recognizing notable within jurisdiction school achievements. Of all the times in the school year, this time, this month of June highlights the busyness of planning and of culmination; we’re heading toward threshold. Student behaviour is at its most extreme in June, something more significant than the student behaviour we see in December’s anticipation of Christmas. Warmer weather, extended hours of sunlight and the approaching end of what’s been normal for students through ten months, all can serve to escalate things in the worst of ways for students – fighting, skipping, withdrawal from school. It’s June. It’s that critical month in teaching when it’s so important to hold fast to your goals that lead students to their year end and yours. And, it is about each student.  June is the month that contains the final moments in a year of transformation for adolescents. In June, the cocoon rattles and shakes, eventually bursting upon the threshold of that moment in which a school year and grade concludes and students are set free into their summer and their next year’s endeavor. It’s a birthing process.

Photography – the images presented here are ones in which I’m investigating what can be done with macro photography.  The initial set of images are those taken in and around farming equipment on display at the High Level Museum.  The others come from locations in Fort Vermilion, Alberta – an old building  (to be demolished), grave markers at the Anglican cemetery and dandelions outside the cemetery.

Curious Quotes – (1) “Nothing isolates one person from another person as the species of their perception.” – Boris Pasternak; (2) “Stress is a perverted relationship to time.” – John O’Donohue

Quotes to Inspire – (1) “I never question what to do, it tells me what to do.  The photographs make themselves with my help.” – Ruth Bernhard (2) “It pleases me to take amateur photographs of my garden, and it pleases my garden to make my photographs look professional.” – Robert Brault

Listening to – Can’t You Hear Me Knocking (Rolling Stones), California Sun (The Rivieras), Let It All Hang Out (The Hombres), Louie Louie (The Kingsmen), Pink Cadillac (Bruce Springsteen), Sultans of Swing (Dire Straits) and Back in the Saddle (Aerosmith).

Step Into Line

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Ray LaMontagne’s song ‘Beg, Steal or Borrow’ plays, a tune I’m drawn to lyrically and melodiously. It’s a tune that says as much about the creation of a song – “you beg, you steal, you borrow” – as it does about the act of settling into Life and working through disillusionments, “Are you gonna step into line like your daddy done, punchin the time and climbin life’s long ladder?” It’s a tune that looks at the cost of pursuing individuality (or greatness) versus conforming to Life’s norms (mediocrity). It seems also to be the tune of the man further along the road looking toward a younger one, perhaps hoping to help him avoid Life’s misteps, perhaps gauging the outcomes of the younger man’s choices and responses to Life events. In this, there’s the sideline vicarious living out of life through the actions of another, a younger man who aims to make his stand and put his footprint on the world. The song’s really about that twofold look at oneself – the you that pursues passions coming against that wiser part of self that looks critically at actions, outcomes and costs. There’s wrestling with truth and wrestling towards truth. In content the lyrics associate well to much of what Tom Cochrane sings about (e.g. Boy Inside the Man) … more good tunes.

Photos – out and away on a Saturday morning that extends longways through most of the day returning me home in the wee hours of Sunday morning. Old-time farm buildings and homes feature in these photos amongst Alberta spring weather, a mixture of moisture laden air rising as the sun heats the earth, the air rippling in mirage fashion in convection’s warmth.  Clouds billow and stack throughout the day becoming backdrop to earthly structures – land, trees, buildings and roads.

Listening to – David Gray’s Fugitive, Ray LaMontagne’s I Still Care For You and Ryan Adams’ Oh My Sweet Carolina.

Quote to Inspire – “For me the printing process is part of the magic of photography. It’s that magic that can be exciting, disappointing, rewarding and frustrating all in the same few moments in the darkroom.” – John Sexton

Vase-lens

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A vase and a serving dish, both glass, both transparent yet holding colour, both with shape and form and both reflecting light are subjects in the images presented here. Both glass structures are lenses, the vase, a lens revealing entire beauty of the flower held, the serving dish, a lens to the manna that soon will be eaten. The polished surface’s shape and form reflects light. So too does the interior of the glass.  There’s that place where the glass in being shaped curves or twists receiving form. From that point within there’s reflection, a glint of light from within shining back. Analogy extends forward … what structures hold us that allow us to be seen? Would this be a home?  Would this be a marriage? A vase holds the still-life flower, a living thing of beauty while beautiful. Moving past prime, dying, it is discarded. For us, we each have a rich, subtle life, one that few others really know well.  Is friendship the vase-lens structure allowing for revelation of one’s subtle life? Something in this analogy is truth my mother understood.  Her memory via her paintings prods me forward toward unraveling it.

Listening to Bruce Springsteen from the Tunnel of Love album – One Step Up; Bryan Ferry sings Just Like Tom Thumb’s Blues from Dylanesque.  Amiina from the album Kurr provides a tonal, music box sound in Rugla.  Rugla reminds of another ambient mix by Sigur Ros from the Takk album – Glosoli.  Later, I’m listening to Last Thoughts on Woody Guthrie, thoughts Bob Dylan offers – The Bootleg Series, Vols. 1-3 (Rare and Unreleased) 1961-1991.

Quote to Inspire – “Photography is only intuition, a perpetual interrogation – everything except a stage set.” – Henri Cartier-Bresson – Photography Year 1975 – Life Library of Photography, page: 216

What Happened Here ….

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Early Fifties Two-door Sedan - Blue Hills

Car photography especially of early fifties vehicles, for me, derives from my learning to steer a car and then to drive one sitting next to a favourite, older cousin in his copper brown and white 1951 Mercury four-door.  Strong-arm steering meant that effort was needed to guide the Mercury down dusty gravel roads. These drives usually followed Sunday get-togethers of my family from Edmonton with his in Rimbey, Alberta. The event, recalled to memory is that of a late spring or early summer drive, following an evening meal and Walt Disney.  I might have been nine or ten years old when I first took the wheel for some good, adventure-filled times before saying our goodbyes, parting company and returning home in an hour-long drive to Edmonton.  Always, my aunt, uncle and three cousins would wave to us from their porch as we left. Our families might see each other again in a month or two. Those were good times.

My starting point for this photograph is curious. I am unable to determine the make of this early fifties two-door sedan. Given that this Blue Hills’ farm and its woods have seemingly been left as if in the middle of things, its abandonment indicates something unfinished in not just one life but in the lives of a few. Here, what is sacred is often about the conception of ‘what-has-happened-here.’  It associates to memory that will not fade and cannot be left. With this image, just as in no-trace camping the art is to pass through an area without disturbing it, this photograph presents the necessity of capturing something seemingly sacred without disturbance – reverence and respect are needed.

Listening to the Dave Matthews Band from the album Stand Up and the childhood/teen reminiscences of Old Dirt Hill, a song that recalls my go-cart, our garage and back alley … and friends at Easter break in Edmonton in grade 5 – 1972 … what a week (and to be grounded part-way through).

Quote to Inspire – “A photograph is a secret about a secret. The more it tells you the less you know.” —Diane Arbus

Saturday’s Afternoon Drive

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Wife at school, prepping; daughter at dance, dancing – this Saturday seems to be mine, a day before me to use at my discretion, and, certainly not a day to pass in front of a computer screen. A breakfast out takes me to the Flamingo Restaurant where my Photo Plus magazine becomes object of discussion between fellow Canon photographer (my cashier) and me; I point him to the Zinio iPad app as the best means to download the Photo Plus, easily, here in High Level.

Onward – my outerwear consists of several items purchased over the years from Mountain Equipment Co-op – ski pants (10 years old), Salomon winter trainers (new, this year) and a down-filled jacket with hood. Set for warmth at -22C, today, I point my GMC Sierra (without grill or driver’s side headlamp) toward Fort Vermilion and La Crete. Music is part of what this Saturday afternoon is about – Sirius Satellite Radio allows for tuning into folk music on Coffee House, news at the top of the hour from CBC and BBC, jazz music and an interview with the bass player working with Miles Davis. Comedy does not attract my attention, today. I had had thoughts of listening to Sid and Mac’s Shuttertime Podcast; but, their podcast is good to digest while out on a walk around High Level … I let the podcast wait.

In Fort Vermilion, Shirley’s Snack Shack allows for purchase of coffee and something unseen before, a Reese’s Peanut Butter chocolate bar. The truck rolls south on the Red Earth road. The first photographs are of a red, mid-sixties, FORD, three-tonne grain truck; the vehicle remains active – it has current plates and tires are full. The next photographs are of cattails, at the northeast corner of a massive field – land, newly broken and newly farmed; the wind stirs the cattails enough that Automatic Exposure Bracketing, while tried, will not allow for HDR results.

La Crete has Quality Motors to check out, a used car lot and a new Subway restaurant. Moving southward from La Crete, Buffalo Head Prairie is next.  A chain of hills loom in the distance, a blue backdrop to this settlement and extends to another thirty kilometres away called Blue Hills. Along the way, different untried back roads are taken and they return to the Blue Hills highway.  A derelict farm house is discovered.  Doubling back, a place to park the truck off the highway is found; there, two relics from the fifties are found among old disused farming machinery (Massey Harris is the emblem on a seed drill, not Massey Ferguson). With so much left scattered around, the farm seems to be left medias res (in the middle of things); has there been a family death? There’s a story of a car that drove onto the Tompkin’s Landing ferry many years ago; its brakes failed and one or all occupants of the car drowned.

The final part of the journey involves crossing the Peace River over an ice bridge at Tompkin’s landing; signs are there to direct vehicles and to advise of a maximum speed of 10 km/h for crossing the kilometre-wide river. Another forty minutes in night’s darkness with only a passenger headlight to alert oncoming highway traffic of my presence sees me home before 7:00 p.m..  Supper is grilled cheese sandwiches.

Listening to Miles Davis from his Kind of Blue album and So What; reminds that I first seriously listened to Miles Davis within the Finding Forrester soundtrack … Bill Frisell is also there with Over the Rainbow and Under a Golden Sky.

Quote to Inspire – “While there is perhaps a province in which the photograph can tell us nothing more than what we see with our own eyes, there is another in which it proves to us how little our eyes permit us to see.” — Dorothea Lange

Alone – A Life Resigned, Complete

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Vale Island - Boat in Woods, Hay River, NWT

The photograph presented, here, is one of the five boats on Vale Island at Hay River, NWT. While several wordpress blogger photographs this week explore the theme of ‘simple’ in a weekly photo challenge, this photograph more accurately conveys the sentiment of ‘being at rest or at peace.’ This photograph is quirky, though, a boat dragged among the trees, a boat left to rot away … and still the lighting, the subject and boat’s shape suggest simplicity, perhaps a simplicity in resignation. As a concept, simple can be construed to mean the basics involved in the minimum equation for living; it can refer to what one finds easy to do and tangentially it can refer to limited cognitive capacity, perhaps a capacity less than what is required in order to live. Again, the photograph really presents the simplicity of resignation – a life resigned, something complete, something simple.

Listening to The Good in Me is Dead sung by Martyn Joseph in his album Don’t Talk About Love, Volume 1

Quote to Inspire – “There is no such thing as ‘correct’ composition, just bad composition, good composition and inspired composition.” ~ Andrew S. Gibson, Beyond Thirds – A Photographer’s Introduction to Creative Composition

Vale Island – At the Corner of 100th St. and 102nd Ave. NW

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Vale Island Boats - Hay River, NWT

On Vale Island, part of the old Hay River town site, at the wooded corner of 100th Street and 102nd Avenue, if you look into the trees of the northwest corner the sight you’ll see is that of four or five derelict wooden boats of various sizes, some small enough to have navigated the east channel alone, others with size enough to have been considered, in their day, seaworthy on the Great Slave Lake. Three of these boats are the subject of my second high dynamic range (HDR) photograph, boats well-past their prime, dragged to higher ground to rot away among the aspen willows. They will no longer be a nuisance there and they’ll need little upkeep.  In actual fact, what I’ve come across is the cemetery plot for these old boats.  While life has gone out from them, these vessels, without doubt, saw service in my life time; but, would they have been built in my life time?

The picture and this present consideration of boat-life reminds of a reader colleague and friend who pointed me toward Alice Munroe’s 2001 novel about the different ‘ships’ we sail within throughout our lives; it’s entitled Hateship, Friendship, Courtship, Loveship, Marriage, and has now been republished with the title ‘Away From Her.’ Within each state we act and move with different intents and purposes.  But, a ship graveyard such as this found on Vale Island reminds that our journey within these collective or collected states has beginning, duration and an end, as well.  The book was a tough go reading-wise, more something exposing malaise and truth than … hope?

The boats of Vale Island while having had lives that preceded this photograph, have certainly ferried human lives living within the various ‘ships’ that Alice Munroe has proposed in and around Hay River, NWT. These boats still hold their line and shape.  Now, beyond their service, they are in demise.  And, the winds blow from the Great Slave Lake through Vale Island, among these boats and into Hay River.

Listening to Ride Forever, sung by Paul Gross as part of the Due South soundtrack, a single song referencing the Great Slave Lake, living in Alberta … and matters of growing old.

Quote to Inspire – “Where I come from the challenges are quite different.  There are no drug dealers or pimps, few thieves to bother with.  There was only the environment and surviving in the face of it is the challenge of the Inuit. A mother gives birth somewhere out on a glacier field, hundreds of miles from the nearest outpost and she knows that the odds are stacked against her son even living to see the spring with disease, lack of food or the elements.  And, even if they should survive and if he should grow to be a boy, she knows very well that all he has to do is lose his footing on the smooth surface of a glacier and that’ll be that.  In other words, she should know that if her son cannot live … why should she try?  Well I know this woman. I helped deliver her son. She was weak and undernourished. The next morning she stood up and she picked her child up into her arms and she set out again into the blinding snow.  And, I think that was one of the most courageous acts that I’ve ever seen.” ~ Paul Gross, Fraser/Inuit Soliloquy – Due South

Thank you, kindly.

The Art that Food ‘Is’ …

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My daughter misses her brother who’s away at University.  As the baker in our family and as someone who’s grown up with stories of and experiences with a grandmother who’s practiced and creative flare showed through her tasty dishes upon her dining room table, my daughter understands that care is expressed for others through the art of food.  My son, who’s seven years older than my daughter, values and respects his sister’s abilities, creations and talent.  Tonight, my daughter has baked muffins for her brother to send his way in a ‘care package.’

For my part, stories surrounding manna in the ancient wisdom text have me wondering about the longevity (or shelf-life) of this food parcel being sent 800km south; manna was to be collected once a day, a portion (an omer) for each member of the family; collecting more than was needed would see the uneaten portion rot, becoming filled with worms and maggots – all this to teach a people absolute reliance upon the creator.  Still, for us, we are at that cold, polar, northern part of our year that sees temperatures drop to -40 where Celsius and Fahrenheit scales intersect.  The cold will, no doubt, easily prolong the shelf-life of my daughter’s care package muffins, certainly long enough for my son and his dorm-mate to enjoy.

The muffins my daughter has baked are subject for tonight’s photographs. Later, with her, we added photographs of various teas from our cupboard and placed two ounce-bottles of the grandparent’s favourite spirits on the table to work with glass and shape. We experimented with depth of field and focusing with the Canon 60D’s live view display. Our photography session came about partially because my daughter was intrigued this morning when I showed her a PhotoPlus article on Food photography; it’s part of a monthly feature in which a pro photographer mentors an interested and willing amateur. Now that I’ve had a go at it, the article deserves a re-read.

Quote to Inspire – “Inspiration is always a surprising visitor.” ― John O’Donohue, Anam Cara: A Book of Celtic Wisdom

Listening to Mozart’s Andantino con variazioni from Flute and Harp Concerto K. 299

Wind and Winter on the West Bank of the Alexandra Falls

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I woke this morning having dreamed.  And, I woke with intention to make good use of this day for photography.  My progress to my truck and terrain was slowed … Life got in the way is an expression taken to mean that where and when there’s a task that needs done that helps others it needs to be done, presently. I got the business done. And, before getting underway I enlisted my daughter’s help in pinning a map of our municipal district (all six feet worth of map) to the west wall in our garage above the work bench.  We also pinned a map of High Level above our freezer on the east wall of the garage.  With both, the intention is to locate places and subjects of previous photographs as a means to sort out return visits or new places to explore. By 2:00 p.m., I was on the road having shifted from staying within our municipal district (the size of three smaller European countries) to northward travel to Alexandra Falls and to Hay River – both in the Northwest Territories.  I arrived at the falls by 5:00 p.m. and saw the curious way it had iced over and pushed ice over the falls.  An hour later I was in Hay River investigating what happens to its ship yards in winter;  you’d never think that you would drive north to find the largest inland lake in the world, the Great Slave Lake, a lake making use of trawlers and barges, a lake needing more than a few vessels of the Canadian Coast Guard.

The photographs show Alexandra falls and its ice.  Dimensions to grasp – the far wall that river drops down is a 60 foot drop; so, that clump of ice that has fallen over the falls this winter is huge – in height and volume equal to a small two story house.  The next photographs are of boats that have been pulled ashore and are not presently used.  The first shot is of three derelict boats pulled far into the woods, left to rot. The ships are those at the Hay River shipyard close to the southern tip of the Great Slave Lake; at -22C, with wind from the lake, it was a cold time capturing these images – my camera will lock up when it  and its battery is cold.

While I would have preferred to see all of this in daylight it was good gathering these photographs.  For these and others I was using exposure bracketing because I want to investigate High Dynamic Range photography (probably with Photomatix – thank you’s to Shuttertime’s Mac and Sid for encouraging this).  Perhaps the most enjoyable part of the day/evening was being alone with the wind and the sounds of northern winter on the west bank above Alexandra falls.  Good schtuff!

Listening to – a lot of CBC tonight – DNTO and a theme of walking in another’s shoes; also am intrigued to see that John Le Carre’s Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy has had a remake and should be out next Friday – Le Carre’s novels were the light reading during university and my son and I have enjoyed Alec Guiness as George Smiley.  Music – David Gray’s Silver Lining from his White Ladder album.

Quote to Inspire – “To me, photography is an art of observation. It’s about finding something interesting in an ordinary place… I’ve found it has little to do with the things you see and everything to do with the way you see them.” ~ Elliott Erwitt

Dormant – More than a Winter Season

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As a journaling exercise I might look to today’s events or surroundings to see what, if any, forgotten life themes are lurking deep within. I’d open my attention to that thing in my day that draws attention and focus, and, I’d work backward through steppingstones to those places and times in which this thing has been a part of me. I’d work to open-out its meaning for me then and now. Life’s bad and good needs its work as part of one’s psychological hygiene – decluttering what no longer works and what no longer has meaning and working to open-out perception, thinking and those possibilities which surround me. There’s work there.  And, there’s possibility to surface, investigate and realize.

My bike.

My bike has been dormant for more than this winter. Working to capacity (and then some), a busy year has seen me reach my fiftieth year milestone.  The life tasks now seem to be about serving others and limiting the possibility of mistakes; perhaps knowing how to limit mistakes and seeing this as a goal is one attribute of being in my prime. But, still Life doesn’t seem entirely configured to suit or fit all that I’d like each of my days to contain. I’m attending to an aging parent with mid-stage Alzheimer’s Disease at the same time that my wife and I are aiming to establish my son in his year one of university. And, then, I’ve chosen to investigate and develop my photographic competencies – these practices hold their share of sitting and time.

My bike tonight has been the subject of a photograph, a work of art in still-life, a much different perspective than that of an active cyclist who is inseparable from that bike upon which he investigates the world. My bike and my desire to ride are dormant tonight.

Listening to Stolen Car by Patty Griffin from 1000 Kisses; Long Ride Home, from the Elizabethtown soundtrack is where Patty Griffin caught my ear. Later, Acoustic Guitar magazine featured an interview and tabs to one of her songs – good schtuff!

Quote to Inspire – “… to stop rushing around, to sit quietly on the grass, to switch off the world and come back to Earth, to allow the eye to see a willow, a bush, a cloud, a leaf, is an ‘unforgettable experience.’” ~ Frederick Franck, The Zen of Seeing  (p.s. – the battle of any photographer is to discard Life’s presses and to calm one’s spirit enough to be able to see that which is in front of us; right? I’m there, too)

Thank you all for stopping by, the likes and comments.

Take good care of your good selves!