Summer Time Flying By

It doesn’t feel like summer should be halfway over. Didn’t the fun just start?

I spent the 4th of July up at Squam Lake and got a chance to play with my new 15mm fisheye lens. I got to test out a copy of the Sigma 15mm f/2.8 DG Fisheye at Florida’s Birding and Photo Festival in St. Augustine this April, and thought it was a ton of fun. I finally just purchase one and it arrived at the beginning of the month, just in time for the holiday.

I did a little shooting, and came up with this image, which I think captures the whimsical feeling of a summer that goes by too fast. What do you think?

New Hampshire, Squam Lake, canoe, lakes region, fisheye, black and white

And the winner is…

Eric Bowles of Atlanta, Georgia is the winner of my 2012 Nature Photography Day Photo Contest. I asked photographers to get out and shoot on Nature Photography Day (June 15th) and then send me their images. I received a diversity of different photographs, ranging from leopards to damselflies to birds, but in the end I could only pick one and Eric’s close-up image of a sunflower not quite open was the winner!

Eric Bowles’ image of a sunflower was the winner in the 2012 Nature Photography Day Photo Contest.

 

I liked Eric’s photo for the precise focus, excellent detail, pleasing colors, and unconventional (but very effective) centered composition. His image showed the ability to think clearly about how the subject related to his camera, and also a mastery of the technical skills and understanding needed to create a quality image. Great job, Eric!

As the prize for his winning photograph, Eric can choose between an 8×12 print of mine or a $50 gift voucher for another print or canvas.

To see more of Eric’s photography, including a bunch of other great flower images, visit his website at http://bowlesimages.com/.

I’m baaaack!

In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve been out shooting quite a bit lately, and it feels AWESOME!

In between shooting, I’ve been doing some exploring and a little work too. But mostly, I’m loving being out in nature again, being active again, and feeling a little more free.

Here are a few shots from the past week. I’m been going around New Hampshire, exploring familiar places and new ones. Gosh I LOVE this state. I’ve been posting a lot to my Facebook page and my website too, so be sure to check those out! I’ll definitely have more photos coming…

This loon was photographed this morning at a pond in southern New Hampshire. Loons are easily one of my favorite subjects; they are such cool birds. I’m planning on working on a project about loon conservation, so I’ll be photographing them a lot this year trying to work up promo material for funding and then even more in the years to come.

Sugar Hill, New Hampshire has a Lupine Festival every year to celebrate the areas GORGEOUS lupines. Check out this view! Ahh, so sweet!

Here’s my home away from home. Squam Lake is super cool; it’s still got a bit of a wilderness feel to it and old time residents have done a good job of preventing it from becoming too developed. This view is from Squaw Cove on the north end of the lake, where motorboats are not allowed.

waterfall, Chesterfield, New Hampshire, waterfall

And of course, waterfalls. This set of falls is actually located in my backyard – pretty sweet, huh?! This is from last Wednesday, when I took advantage of a little rain and forced myself out of the house. It was the start of a good thing.

Today’s mood: Feeling good and LOVING the Granite State!

PS: You can click on any of the photos above to be linked to the page on my website, where you can buy prints if you so desire.

Dreaming of Summer

summer, adirondacks, adirondack park, adirondack, New York, fog

I’ve been in a rut for about three years now. Maybe four. It’s hard to tell when photography started feeling more like work and gradually became less satisfying. It’s not that I don’t love photography, I do. It’s just that, well, it feels like it’s been a while since I’ve taken a good picture.

Life gets in the way of being a photographer. No matter how you to look at it, unless you are fortunate enough to be independently wealthy and don’t have to worry about money, life will somehow manage to get in the way. If you are a professional photographer, all of a sudden you are shooting to live. You need to make money off of your work, whether through print and stock sales or via commissioned assignments. Even if you like the work you do, you still rely on it, it still becomes a means to an end. If you aren’t a pro, and photography is just a hobby instead of a full time job, then your full time job absorbs huge amounts of your time and energy, making it difficult to get out and shoot as much as you’d like. No matter which end of the spectrum you are on, life, or rather making enough money to live life independently, gets in the way.

When I started getting “serious” about photography, I was in college. I was a full time student, I went to classes a few days a week for a few hours a day. I worked some, on campus, and that paid my bills. My mom was kind enough to pay for my tuition and housing, so I only needed enough money to eat, put gas in my car, pay my cell phone bill and car insurance, and chip in for utilities and internet. Anything left over went into a savings account. I had plenty of free time, and I was dating another photographer at the time, so I was shooting plenty. My life was pretty manageable. I was happy.

After college, my own version of the real world hit with a vengeance. I’ll spare you the details, but between working as many a ten jobs in four states in a given year, being a full time graduate student, and volunteering way too much because I’m a passionate person/an overachiever and I just can’t seem to help myself, photography has fallen to the wayside. I still shoot, but not as much as I want to, and these days, I’ve been doing a lot of contract work instead of shooting just for me. Rarely do I create a photograph that I get excited about anymore. It’s a sad, sad reality. My rut is the symptom of a much bigger problem – I’ve been putting incredible stress on myself these past few years.

So this summer, I’ve resolved to cut back, to take a break, and to find myself again. I’m not a workaholic, or at least I don’t have to be. I can relax, I deserve to. So, this summer is about me, about having fun, and doing the things I love to do. I’m going to pay outside, explore, and take pictures, not because those activities pay the bills, but because they are my passion. Just thinking about it already makes me feel a little bit lighter and more free.

So expect good things this summer, because they are going to happen. I can just feel it.

One Day in Vernon, Now Live!

The collaborative multimedia project on Vernon and Vermont Yankee that I wrote about in my last blog post, Your Friendly Neighborhood Nuclear Power Plant, is now live!

Just over a week ago, myself and seven other photographers tag teamed the small town Vernon, VT to learn more about the people who live there, and how their lives are (or are not) influenced by Vermont Yankee, the 40 year nuclear power plant that calls Vernon home. We spent one short six hour long day interviewing and photographing people, then created a short multimedia piece to share what we found, a rough version of which was shown the next day at a community forum about Vermont Yankee held at the Vermont Center for Photography, which sponsored the project. This 6 minute 54 second video is slightly more polished result of that presentation.

A special thanks needs to go out to photojournalist Michael Forster Rothbart for inspiring this project and also the Vermont Center for Photography for providing a wonderful venue for collaboration.

A small group of us who worked on this project together plan to continue investigating the relationship between small town Vernon and Vermont Yankee, using photography, audio, and video to tell the stories we uncover.

Your Friendly Neighborhood Nuclear Power Plant

I live in a beautiful restored farmhouse in Chesterfield, New Hampshire, just six miles or so (as the crow flies) from an aging nuclear power plant in Vernon, Vermont. Vermont Yankee, nestled on the banks of the Connecticut River, opened its doors to power production in 1972, and its 40 year contract is set to expire next month. The nuclear reactor has been the subject of much debate; everyone seems to worry about the plant’s future. Many want to see it shut down, citing various environmental and health concerns and also controversial court decisions that some say pit the state against the federal government. Others worry about what will happen if the plant closes, fearing the loss of jobs and increased taxes that will result, as well as other economic and social impacts.

The Vermont Yankee nuclear power plant in Vernon, VT has inspired much debate over its 40 years of operation. Many think the plant should be shut down, but some locals worry that the impacts of shutting the plant down would be worse than its continued operation.

This weekend, I teamed up with photographers from the Vermont Center for Photography to learn a little bit more about Vernon and the people that live there. We spanned the small rural Vermont town, photographing and interviewing local farmers, business owners, town officials, and activists. Our goal was to tell the story of Vernon, not just Vermont Yankee. As we learned, there is more to the town than one nuclear power plant.

We found ourselves so inspired by what we heard, that a couple of the other photographers and I ended up working round-the-clock to piece together a multi-media presentation of our work, and more importantly, their stories. Just 27 hours after we began shooting, we presented a very rough version of at an open forum to discuss Vermont Yankee led by photojournalist Michael Forster Rothbart at the Vermont Center for Photography yesterday. Now, after roughly 36 hours of shooting, audio and photo editing, and compiling the final presentation, our piece is nearly complete; I am just waiting on final approval from my colleagues to show it to the world. Once all are happy with the final edit, which I completed at roughly 12:30AM last night, I will share the link to the video on my blog and website.

Stay tuned!

Au revoi, Haiti!

My short time in Haiti is up, and in just a few hours I’ll be boarding a plane to Newark. I’m eager to get back to the states and the comforts of home, despite having a great time in Haiti.

Children from a small village in Parc Le Visite national park in Haiti surround conservation photographer Robin Moore, eager to see their faces on the back of his camera.

There are so many photos and stories to tell, but I’m quite tired so they’ll have to wait. I have quite a bit of work to catch up on when I get home, but hopefully I’ll have time to process and post photos from Haiti before I leave for Costa Rica next month.

See you soon, America!

PS: You’ll be glad to know my stomach bug lasted only about 36 hours and I’m feeling back to my normal self again. I’m not even sure what the cause was (it could have been the water or something I ate), but I’m sure glad I’m feeling better for my return flights home!

Bonjou! from Haiti

Well, I’ve arrived. This novice world traveler departing from New England has successfully endured her first half day of 90 degree temperatures while navigating through Haitian customs at Port-au-Prince and has settled into the Kinam Hotel for the night.

Wow. Haiti is so… different. Different and beautiful. Haiti is one of those places that conjures up so many questions; as an outsider, I know I have so much to learn. It seems that everything here has a story – every person, every piece of artwork, every store and yard of rubbish and building and stray dog. It’s incredibly humbling.

Anyway, this is a short post, as there is much work to do and long days ahead. Just wanted to check in and tell you all that I’m alive and well. Internet (and even electricity) here is a luxury, so I thought I might as well take advantage of it when I can!

Inspired by Nature now available for iDevices

My portfolio book, Inspired by Nature, is now available as an ebook for iPhone and iPad.

Inspired by Nature is a collection of 83 images taken from 2005-2009. It is also available as a physical print book in softcover or hardcover from the Blurb online bookstore.

We live through experiences not pictures

“Have fun! Take lots of pictures!”

“Yeah, sure.” And I was out the door.

I’m lucky in that I have a lot of adventures. Freedom of spirit is a lifestyle choice I made subconciously some years ago, and one I continue to reaffirm every so often, when my restless nature tempts me to defy conventional wisdom and hit the road, or as is more often the case, the trail. I work for a bit, save for a bit, stress for a bit, and then escape to the wilderness in seek of respite from it all.

A few weeks ago, I had agreed to partake in a trip planned by an outdoor adventure company co-owned by two photographer friends of mine. Brooklyn Outfitters was leading its first ever guided winter hike up Mount Washington, the tallest mountain in the northeast and home of the World’s Worst Weather, a title it earned in 1938 when 231 mph winds gusted over the summit.

I packed my bags, debating which camera to bring. Did I want to be able to capture the highest quality images of the trip, or did I want to just make it up the Grand Lady and back down in one piece? From the summit of Mount Washington, the view is strikingly beautiful as one overlooks the entire Presidential Range of New Hampshire’s White Mountains. The hike up travels 4,250 vertical feet over rocky terrain left by glaciers with natural gardens of alpine plants and stunted trees, all of which would be coated in thick layers of rime ice and windswept snow.

There was, of course, no guarentee we would even make it to the summit. Mount Washington has claimed over a hundred human lives, and conditions on the mountain can and do change rapidly. Even a good day can turn into a nightmare on the mountain. Smart hikers who don’t die know when to turn around. The adventure I was about to go on was not for the faint of heart. Undoubtably, it would be one worth remembering.

I finally opted to leave my 5D Mark II and wide angle lens in the car, and decided to carry my much lighter Panasonic GF-1 instead.

The first two miles to Mount Washington are relatively easy, on a broad path through the trees. After this the trail splits, and winter hikers going up the mountain turn onto Lion’s Head, heading up one of the steepest trails to the summit. As we scrambled towards treeline, the views began to open up into something incredible. The cold began to sink in faster. The wind picked up. We had to cover every part of our bodies to prevent frostbite. Head to toe, nothing was exposed, not even the skin on our faces.

The snow glistened and gleamed in the sunshine. Clear days on Mount Washington are not common, but they are beautiful when they do happen and visibility was incredible. Shrouds of white snow picked up by a steady wind streamed over the surrounding ridges like waves rippling over rocks in a stream. The blue blue sky greeted the white snow in perfect harmony where the mountainside hit the horizon. Miniature sculptures of slanted icicles, blown horizontal by the wind, rose from the landscape in crystalline beauty.

It was all mine and just what I needed.

Climbing Mount Washington in the winter is something I’ve dreamed of doing since my first visit to New Hampshire in February 2009. Then, I had snowshoed up a path just east of Pinkham Notch, the Appalachian Mountain Club Visitor’s Center that serves as the hub for folks ascending Washington. It was my first real winter hiking experience, and a bird and nature enthusiast old enough to be my father acted as my guide. The weather was fairly mild and we stayed well below treeline, but the hike was much tougher for me than my seasoned leader. It was then that I learned that people hiked up Mount Washington in winter (was that even possible?) using ice axes and crampons and other mountaineering necessities. It sounded brutal. It sounded awesome. Then and there I made up my mind to try it one day.

Then there was the rest of my life. The blur of grad school. The ever growing pile of work to be done, bills to be paid, and my shapeless future. I’m one of those people that needs a healthy dose of nature, otherwise I freak. I was in the midst of one of my “I don’t feel too good about anything” spells, and freaking was in progress.

Therefore, I decided on therapy in the form of a terrible mountain in the harshest of conditions. She challenged me. On the steep parts, my legs grew tired with extertion, but not with the weight of the world. My throat begged for water. I feared removing my balaclava to drink so I stayed thirsty, but only for water, not for joy. My progress was slow – I have short legs and going uphill is never as efficient for me as it is for some – but steady, and I knew I had it in me. I climbed and kept climbing.

I was determined to make it to the summit. Summitting was more important than pictures to me. I’d take some on the way down if I felt like it.

But I didn’t really feel like it.

My GF-1 was in the brain of my pack and easy to get to. I had on Smartwool liner gloves that would spare my fingers from numbness for a few frames, even in the bitter cold, and I wasn’t even that cold. I had prepared well, and the intense physical effort was keeping me comfortably warm. I was rather enjoying myself.

The primary reason I take photos is because I like to share my experiences and the beauty of nature with others. I like to capture those special moments and special places that I come across on my adventures – be they big ones or small ones – and show them to other people that couldn’t be there with me at the time. Photography is how I connect my life to the lives of others; it is an integral part of my identity.

This I didn’t feel like sharing.

My journey up Mount Washington was in some way private. It was intensely personal. It was me against my self-destructive psyche, against the part of me that was hungry and tired, against my imperfect and out of shape body and my uncertain future. Mount Washington and Old Man Winter were challenging me, not my friends at home or strangers browsing my website. Mother Nature was daring me to fail, not others.

There wasn’t any place else in the world I would rather have been than in those moments as they happened on the mountain. I decided all I wanted from those moments was to experience them, to be fully present. I wanted to live in each moment as completely as possible. I find it easy to get wrapped up in taking photos sometimes. Sometimes photography is a distraction.

Memories are sometimes the most beautiful thing we have. Photographs can capture memories, true, but they can taint them too, because photographs don’t adequately capture a complete experience. Events are experienced through multiple senses simulataneously; they are not two dimensional. Also, our memories aren’t perfect reflections of reality. They have emotions attached to them, and everything we see, hear, smell, and experience is colored by the flavor of our hearts and souls.

In reality, photographs are sorry excuses for memories of experiences. The photographs I would have taken on Mount Washington would only have captured a fraction of what I saw, a small detail of the whole experience, and not with the richness that it deserved.

For example, no photograph can capture the way your nose feels when the hairs inside your nostrils freeze. If you like the cold, like me, it makes you feel alive. Frozen nostril hairs are the sign of impending adventure; I’ve never had frozen nostril hairs and not had a good time.

I don’t remember everything about the trip. I’d like to say that if I close my eyes, I can go back to the mountain but I can’t. The experience came and went, and in my memory some of the details are fuzzy and some are clear as day. A few visuals stick out in my head, like the look of the observatory encapsuled in rime ice, or the alpine garden bent over with the weight of snow and pressure of surviving in one of the harshest environments on earth.

I can hear the squeaky crunch of an ice axe and crampons on frozen snow. That sound is the most distinctive thing I remember of the whole trip, and as I was climbing, as I was using my axe, I was very conscious of the sound, how new it was to me, how I couldn’t quite describe it in words. That stays with me.

The rest, I forget. The memories come and go, washing over me like waves of snow blowing over the mountains.

There are photos from the trip. Brooklyn Outfitters takes photos on every trip, and the guides are often pretty good photographers, as was the case on this adventure. Thanks to them, for the first time in a long time I have photos with me in them doing something cool.

Do I regret not taking my own photos? No. I’ll go back. I’ll climb the beast again. I’ll take photos when it strikes me to do so. But I refuse to be married to my camera and divorced from the world I live in and the entirety of the experiences around me.

How many times do wonderful things happen to us and we think, darn, I wish I had my camera? As photographers, we want to capture the things that happen around us. But it’s important to remember than even the best photographs cannot capture what happens to us.

And what happens to us shapes who we are.

And who we are is more important than the images we take.

When I came home from my Mount Washington adventure, I didn’t have a single photo to share with a soul. My friends, roommates, and fellow photographers were shocked, after all, photography has often been the reason I get out to see and experience all that I have. Yet, I know I made the right choice because my spirit is restored, and I feel whole again.

Next time, I’ll take pictures.