Paws to the Fire.
Part of that wonderful bit of Brittany coastline known as Pink Granite Coat. Every time I stop anywhere along this stretch of coast I think, this is my favourite spot. So if you ask me my favourite part of this coastline, take any answer I give you with a large grain of (sea) salt.
I think the images say all I want to say
Give me the open road, a deserted building, the hypnotic motion of the ocean or the whispering rustle of the wind in the trees to the sound of talking heads and news politicos any day.
My skewed perspective on focus is not a recent evolution. Rather, it is a tendency that has been there awhile, explored some time ago with the aid of a Daguerreotype lens in this particular case. This has just aided in my explorations, provided me a new instrument by which to poke around at the edges of my perspective on how to focus.
So we made the trip north, poked around and climbed above the exposed mussel shoals.
Just us, the sky and the sea. Bliss.
The Stories of the moments we lived in.
Saturday Morning. Gazing out the kitchen window, enjoying hot strong coffee and being grateful for the peaceful life that can now be lived.
Entrance to the work station
The ever growing
Jonah feeling good in his new home.
It occurs to me that these days one must go farther and farther to escape the crowds. I witnessed how larger and larger numbers of people are travelling and places are getting more and more crowded. In part this is driven by the internet and social media. It is easier to publicise a place and we are drawn like moths to a flame to the places that sites such as Instagram subtly tell us are the “it” places that one must visit in their life. Look at Iceland, look at New Zealand, sure. But even on a smaller, more local scale I see beaches and trails becoming more packed. I don’t know what I think of this. On one hand I find it repellent and annoying to navigate crowds of people when my goal is to get somewhere away from people. On the other hand, I can hardly fault these people for wanting to get out into beautiful places. They are doing the same thing I am doing and I can no more fault them than I can, or should, myself. But at the same time the increasing numbers present issues. The more individuals through an area the more wear on that area, the more litter, the more people climbing through alpine meadows off-trail, or scaling sea stacks at the beach disturbing the natural bird life. We slowly erode that which we love.
On a photographic level the unwanted wanderer has long been a bane to the photographer wanting to get “the shot”. I remember struggling with this in my early days, waiting patiently and sometimes not so patiently, for that man in the red raincoat to get along his merry way and out of the frame I have been composing for the past ten minutes. But that was then. These days I rarely experience the issue and in large part that is because of the world of photography that long exposure and pinhole has opened up to me. When you are making 10 second, or eight minute exposures, crowds not present much less an issue but actually they create an opportunity. So many times the essence of a particular landscape image to me is based on the unpredictable blur of people moving within the frame. Now my struggles laughably tend toward the opposite end of the spectrum. I set up to make a long exposure of people within a landscape and I get a minute into a four minute exposure and they get up and leave the frame, barely registering as ghosts at that point. I want to run in and tell them to not get out of my way.
The photographic aspect of this issue is a fun one to wrestle with, the non-photographic aspects of growing crowds though has me a little concerned at times.
My Lament to Fuji Acros, which is not long for this world. Like the seasons, the inexorable spin of the planet and the relentless pull of time and progress have their way eventually. Acros will be a memory, but what memories it will have made. This roll, for example, exposed in the shifting dunes in the middle of the coastline nowhere, with the sun beating down and the wind completely still.
Tangentially, I’m a late spring/early summer guy. I love the promise of warmth. I love the feeling of well being it brings. I love the quiet that both bring. But spring comes and goes such that despite how well we get along, we always part. But we part with promises to reunite again when we can. Eventually time will break that promise but till then…
I am disappointed to see Acros break that promise, but it is a fact of life as a film photographer. I have seen more films come and go in my years than films currently available. Weirdly enough, I am OK with this and that is largely because I have images like these. It is worth it to live through the demise of Acros because I had this chance to make these Photographs with it. And not to sound callous, but there are other films. So I carry on and swing between tears and wonder.
Still, I will miss this film.
Lazing on the shoreline while the spirits disembark
Seek out a place to sit and rest down in the dark
Smell something burning just a small distance away
I have no fear of anyone, I’m alive, my spirit free
Now the shadows are long, everything’s still, everything’s the same, and the dreams that I had are public domain
From a burrow underground
Climb to the surface, blink my eyes, and look around
Claim my place beneath the sky
I watch the stars without fear
If you look the other way I disappear
I finally got my hand on the Daguerreotype Achromat 2.9/64mm Art Lens. Glass I have lusted over for some time. Let’s utter a spell and step back in time….
….to capture the willing subjects.
Needle Felted Iberian Lynx
Some things you’ll do for money and some you’ll do for fun
But the things you do for love are going to come back to you one by one.