Stretching our abilities

"Eye of the Beholder" - my image for the South Shore Stories exhibit at the Margaret Hennigar Library, Bridgewater during the month of May

Learning any type of craft is good for the mind, and can be a lifelong learning journey. For me, a love of photography started early. I'm not sure whether I loved it more for the documentation process or to help cover up my shyness. For years, the only photos I took were what I would call documentary, chronicling life with my family and friends. Looking back, I think one reason I did this was to help with my memory, which has always been bad. 

When I was in my late teens, I was talking with my friends and reminiscing about early high school. They were laughing about something that happened and I didn't remember even being there. No, there were no drugs or alcohol involved. Forty years later, and I am still taking pictures of everyday life with family and friends. I make annual books, and often look back at them to jog my memory. Oddly enough, I can remember that I have a photograph of something even if I don't remember the actual event. Weird, I know.

The other thing about carrying a camera and documenting things is that you can keep yourself a bit removed from what's going on, hence helping someone who may be a bit shy. Over the years, I have met a lot of photographers who you might classify as being introverted. It is a usually a solitary pastime, so I guess that makes sense. I had a recent conversation with a couple of people who could not believe that I am a shy person. It is true, although I have had a lifetime of learning to hide it from others. A couple of hours of conversation with someone can leave me exhausted and I usually plan for a quiet morning to recuperate after a social evening, the result of being an introvert. 

In order to stretch our abilities, we need to give ourselves little challenges. Belonging to a like minded group is a good way to start, and I have learned a lot since joining my local photography club. Sharing my images with a group of like minded people has helped me gain confidence in my abilities. It has also made me a better photographer, and moved me away from simply documenting events to trying to capture more artistic images. Seeing other people's photographs is also a good reminder that we're all on our own learning curve. There will always be people with more skills, and with different interests. Being exposed to a wide range of abilities helps us progress and increase our own skills. 

Sharing our love of photography with the public can benefit all of us, and members of the Bridgewater Photographic Society will be exhibiting "South Shore Stories" at the Margaret Hennigar Library during the month of May. Images, together with brief story cards, will show how life on the South Shore inspires and sustains us.

Exhibitors include Darlene Awalt, Trevor Awalt, Brenda Bancroft, Don Barnes, John Burnett, Dave Collins, Derek Johnston, Mary Ann Massey, Charlene Morton, Richard Novossiltzeff, Karen Parnell Herrick, Kathryn Price, Gary Smith, Kas Stone, Peter Zwicker, and myself.

From the Drowned Forest at The Hawk on Cape Sable Island, wildlife on the shore at Baccaro Point and Crescent Beach, tree farming in New Germany, and everywhere in between, these images and stories will illustrate the wide range of photographic opportunities on the South Shore. 

As part of the exhibit, there will be a presentation "A Picture is Worth a Hundred Words" at 7pm on Tuesday May 16. Professional photographer and author Kas Stone will explore the connection between words and images, using examples from her own portfolio, as well as others, for illustration. Words and images are two different ways of telling stories and expressing our feelings about a subject. One appeals visually, the other linguistically, to different areas of our brains to get their message across. However when words and images are used effectively together – pairing a compelling photograph with a clever title or interesting backstory – their impact can be truly inspiring. The presentation is free, but seating is limited. To register for this talk, please visit the Margaret Hennigar Library or call 902-543-9222.

I hope you will visit the library in Bridgewater during the month of May, or join us at the presentation on May 16. Come and share our joy of photography and the South Shore, always something good to focus on.

Published in the South Shore Breaker, Bedford & Sackville Observer, Dartmouth Tribune - April 26, 2017

Reality versus illusion

If you are of a certain age, you may remember the advertisements with the tag line "does she, or doesn’t she?", referring to hair colour. For the record, I don’t, and am naturally "silver". It amazes me that young women purposely dye their hair grey. Does that mean I am fashionable? I doubt it.

 

These days, sometimes it’s difficult to tell if something is real or manufactured.

You can build decks from manufactured materials that are guaranteed to last years longer than real wood. We can purchase rocks for our gardens that are made to look like the real thing. There are porcelain tiles made to look like marble. I could go on, but this is beginning to sound like one of my favourite shows on HGTV.

 

Let’s get back to the first point I was trying to make...is it real, or just an illusion?

Recently, I have been experimenting with creating images using several photographs. This image was created using elements from three different pictures – the shadows created by my bedroom blinds, a self portrait, and a picture of a crow from my backyard. I hoped to convey a feeling of sadness in this image called “One Crow Sorrow”.

That question pops up in photography more often than you might think. These days, more people than ever have a camera that they carry around constantly. Cell phones have created more photographers than ever before. And "real" photographers debate about what makes a "real" photograph. As in many other forms of art, there can be a snobbishness to photography that is a little intimidating sometimes, especially for people lacking a bit in the self confidence department. As a matter of fact, some people think that photography is actually not an art, but that’s yet another debate.

 

If you snap a photo with your phone, is that photography? If you use a point and shoot camera, are you more of a photographer than someone who uses a phone? And if you use a "professional" camera, does that make your images better than the ones people take with compact cameras? The advance in technology has made it possible for more people than ever to capture stunning images and also to manipulate those images either with preset effects available on our phones, or more sophisticated editing using computer software.

Some argue that it isn’t true photography if the image is edited and adjusted afterwards, and I have to admit that I used to be one of those people who carried that belief. But isn’t that what the pioneering photographers did in their darkrooms? Sure, their processing techniques were not as sophisticated as the present day, but they did manipulate their images to create the vision they wanted.

Now in the digital age with software that is more and more complex, there is a genre called conceptual photography where images are created that might be a whole made up environment.

What makes a beautiful image? I would say that beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Whether you are documenting the world around you, or making art combining images and software manipulation, does it matter what other people think as long as you are happy with your results? It’s a different story if you are trying to earn a living with a camera, but if you are an amateur like me, I would say that it’s our own satisfaction that should drive our pursuits.

For almost forty years I used my camera to document my life and the world around me. A couple of years ago I listened to a presentation called "The Great Reality Debate" by Dublin Shore photographer Kas Stone, where she discussed the ability to use sophisticated software to shift images from the "good" pile and create photographic art. That opened my eyes to a new way of thinking and I started experimenting with my own photography.

This has taken me down an unfamiliar path, which has often been frustrating. I wanted to label myself as "artistic" and was trying to force something which didn’t come to me naturally.

I studied conceptual photographers and sketched plans for creating my new images in a notebook. As my husband will tell you, I can be a bit intense and single minded about things sometimes.

Then, as I was talking with my granddaughter about life choices she will be facing in the coming years, it hit me. I should be giving the same advice to myself. Don’t try to be something you’re not, be true to yourself. Do the things that you are truly interested in, and the rest will fall into place.

Documenting life with photographs doesn't have to limit artistic abilities. This is just an image of sand. With a little help from nature, not photo manipulation, the patterns in the sand look like trees.

As a result, I am trying to be more comfortable with the fact that I enjoy documenting things, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have an artistic eye. I see things in a different way. And if other people look at the same scene and don’t see my vision, that’s okay. We are all different, with our own interests and talents. And that’s something good to focus on.

Published in the South Shore Breaker - April 19, 2017

Repetition Doesn't Mean Boring

Going back to the same location time and time again can lead to a series of interesting images with quite different results. Timing is everything – a few hours after this photo was taken, the hay rows were gone.

Have you ever found yourself doing the same thing over and over again, expecting the result to change? Of course, doing the same thing countless times without variation leads to the same conclusion, even if we continue to hope for something different.

As so often happens to me these days, my mind goes back into the past and remembers long forgotten details. Many years ago, when we purchased our first computer we had one of those frustrating experiences that new technology often brings. Back then, setting up a new computer was a lot more complicated than it is now. We painstakingly followed the instructions and had no success. Over and over, line by line,
we completed all the steps on the sheet. Finally phoning our son for help, he walked us through what needed to be done. After a while, he patiently asked if we had hit "enter". No, we hadn't, because that wasn't detailed on the instruction sheet. His reply was that "everyone knows you have to hit enter". Well, we didn't know that. We expected the instructions to tell us everything we needed to do.

I recently purchased some new equipment and was quite proud because I was able to set it up all by myself, without depending on a phone call to my son to help install it. The process even entailed going into the garage and finding a button to push on a router in order to get the equipment up and running. Honestly, I think my success had more to do with the progress of technology than with my increased skills.

 

I frequently run into frustrations when I'm working with my camera and trying to figure out something new. Who am I kidding? These days, sometimes I have to reacquaint myself with things that I've already learned but forgotten how to do. It doesn't always have to be learning a new skill to seem new to me. But I digress.

As with many other skills, taking photographs with something more complicated than a point and shoot camera requires lots and lots of repetition in order for the skill to become ingrained so that we can accomplish it quickly and without thought. Practice might not make perfect, but lots of practice can help our skills to become something so natural that we don't have to think about it when we're doing it. Knowing our equipment makes it easier to capture that spur of the moment picture that rarely happens.

 The same two trees with a much different feeling, taken on a mid winter's day with a flock of birds soaring high in the sky. 

Repetition does have other benefits. If you're anything like me, you might have your favourite coffee shops or restaurants that you like to visit. Some people might find it boring, but there is something comforting about routine. You get to know the servers. You might have a favourite place to sit with a special view. Maybe you know the daily specials or often order the same meal. Adventurous? Maybe not. But repetition doesn't have to mean boring.

The same theory can be applied to photography. Some of the best images are taken when a photographer is familiar with the location. Going back to the same area time after time can yield very different results. Four seasons, changing weather, or various times throughout the day, can make very different images. Familiarity can blind us to the beauty around us, but making a conscious effort to see something new in a place we are intimate with can create some spectacular pictures. 

The same trees, on a winter's day with a stormy sky. A flock of pigeons took flight after a helpful neighbour waved them away from nearby hydro lines.

By revisiting the same location, we become aware of subtle changes too. It may seem that everything is the same, but when we take the time to look at the details things may actually be quite different. My husband can tell you a story or two about that. Several years ago, it took me two days to realize he had shaved his beard. Oops. Sometimes I'm not very good with details. I can be out all day with a friend and my husband will ask me what kind of car they drive. Usually I can remember the colour, but rarely know the make and model.

The same trees taken from a different angle on a gloomy day, and “two” become “one”.

With a camera in my hand, it's another story. A change in light, a lovely shadow. Shimmering reflections, subtle colours. When I hold a camera, I notice inconsequential details that many people wouldn't give a thought to. Maybe I should photograph my husband every morning. I bet he wouldn't be able to shave without me noticing if I recorded it with my camera. But there are other things to focus on.

The Dichotomy of Life

cover photo from the portfolio I created for my application to NSCAD University

I am thrilled. I am scared. I am ready.

Recently, I had to write a one page essay and those were the words I ended with. Those words could be applied to any kind of new challenge in our lives, don't you think?  No matter what new activity or project or life experience, I believe that a lot of people would agree to having mixed feelings. 

Excitement about the opportunity. Wow, I can't believe this is happening to me! 

Fear about the unknown. I don't know all the answers or if I can do this!

Ready to try. I might be ready to dive in, or sometimes drag my feet, but I'm willing to give it a go.

Not many things are all good, or all bad. Usually joy and frustration go together
hand in hand, joined on this path of life we all walk along. It's the dichotomy that makes things interesting for us, albeit sometimes it's hard to see why we have to take the bad along with the good.

A baby taking his first steps will be nervous about letting go and standing upright instead of crawling, but he'll feel the excitement of his achievements and glory in the praise of his loved ones. Even one step is a huge success.

A teenager trying to decide on what path she'll take after high school will be nervous about making her choices, but she'll feel excited about all her opportunities.

A young couple will discover they are about to start a family and will be thrilled about becoming parents, but perhaps nervous about all the responsibility.

And life goes on. We face new challenges, some small and some large. We take one step forward and two steps back. We cry and we laugh and we carry on.

The fear factor can be applied to our hobbies as well. I've been taking photographs for many years, and joined a local photo club about eight years ago. Enjoying my own images and sharing them with other people are two completely different things. Entering photographs into club competitions can be intimidating, but it's important to receive unbiased feedback in order to grow our skills. Online "likes" from family and friends on facebook are good ego boosters, but they don't count as constructive suggestions on how to grow and improve. Competitions, instructional courses, and juried exhibitions are all ways that photographers and other hobbyists can increase their skills.

Last year, I stepped out of my comfort zone and started participating in different photography and writing challenges. I submitted an article to a magazine, and I wasn't accepted. But the editor checked out my photographs and I ended up having one of my images published. My images were turned down for a book compilation, but accepted for a gallery exhibit in Dartmouth. I have written a short story and submitted it to the CBC Non Fiction Literary Competition. I won't know the results until later this year, but I consider it a mark in my personal success column because I actually hit the "send" button once it was completed. I sent it off into the world instead of keeping it to myself, and that's a big achievement for me. Sometimes it's difficult to overcome a fear of failure, but the biggest reward is knowing that we have tried.

pictured with my granddaughter on Portfolio Day at NSCAD University

Four years ago, I attended a tour of Nova Scotia College of Art and Design (NSCAD) University with my son who was considering going to art school. I was so excited about the tour that I went to an art supply store to purchase a sketch book before we headed home. As it so often happens, I got sidetracked by life. A few weeks ago, I took another tour of NSCAD, this time with my granddaughter who is future planning for decisions she'll be making a couple of years from now. I spent the tour envisioning myself as one of the young people planning for a future. I got home and started wondering, why exactly was I lamenting not being young with a future ahead of me? I am not young, but I have a future and I still have dreams. I talked to my husband, put together a portfolio, and sent in my application.

I received a phone call and I've been accepted as an art student at NSCAD. I'm 55 years old and am going back to school. Even retired people need something to focus on. And that brings me back to the opening lines for this article:

I am thrilled. I am scared. I am ready.

Published in the South Shore Breaker -  March 22, 2017. 

How does your garden grow?

On a cold winter day, fun can be had by photographing flowers taken from a bouquet of roses. Well, it was actually a bouquet of carnations but my husband thought he bought me roses.

One day in January, my husband arrived home with a bouquet of flowers in his hand. Once I picked myself up from the floor, I asked what the occasion was. He knows I like flowers, he said, so he bought me some. Twenty five years together, and I don’t need all the fingers on one hand to count the number of times I received a bouquet of flowers from him. Not on our anniversary. Not on Valentine’s Day. Never. So, miracles do happen.

He thought he picked roses when he pointed them out at the shop, but it was actually a bouquet of carnations. They were beautiful, and lasted for weeks.
Nova Scotia winters are fickle. Snow one day, and rain the next, sometimes it’s difficult to know how to dress for an outside jaunt. Until the mid February snow dump, we had a relatively easy winter. A week of constant shoveling and school and store closures quickly put that thought to bed.

At this time of year, even if there are piles of snow on the ground, there may be a far off whiff of spring that we catch on the winter winds now and then. Our minds start yearning for new growth and warmth. You may have noticed the shift to non winter thoughts on social media, where people are sharing photos of their gardens from last year and images from seed catalogues. Maybe, if you’re like me, you have some artistic friends who have been sharing snippets of paintings of lush flower gardens or still life photos of blossoms in vases.

I am no exception, and my thoughts turn to planning for this year’s garden. Even a person without a green thumb can learn to garden. I have killed almost every house plant I have ever owned, but over the years I have learned about gardening through trial and error.

Even someone without a green thumb like me can grow an amaryllis to bring some spring like cheer to the home during a long winter.

My first efforts were at our home in rural Ontario, when we thought we lived in the "country" but actually were just living on a 2 acre lot in a subdivision on the outskirts of a small town. I grew tomatoes. I grew asparagus that we never got to eat because our dogs kept eating all the spears before we could cut them. I grew spaghetti squash before we were squash eaters. What was I thinking? We ended up with dozens of squash that we didn’t even eat and gave them away to anyone we could.

Gardening got serious for me when we moved to a twenty acre piece of property in rural Nova Scotia. Our yard was a hay field that came right up to the house. My husband mowed, and I planted. First, I made a tiny five foot flower garden planted with perennials we moved from Ontario in my VW Beetle. Then we planted a flowering crabapple tree in memory of my dad.

My flower garden expanded every year that followed, and vegetable gardens were created, despite my promises to my husband that I would stop increasing my gardening work load. Expansion was inevitable, and my husband jokingly referred to my efforts as "enhancements" since we were not "expanding". Shrubs and flower gardens surrounded three sides of the house. The backyard garden grew from five feet square in the first year to over a quarter of an acre by the time we moved. Oh, and did I mention the 13 foot long fish pond we created?

But now we live in the town of Bridgewater with a yard full of sod that is slowly being taken over by shrubs and flowers. Gardening was my first priority after unpacking essentials when we moved. Boxes and boxes were stacked in the garage, lower on my "to do" list than getting plants into the ground. This summer the "enhancements" will continue.

We planted a few trees last summer. The required flowering crabapple tree that always makes me think of my childhood home. A mountain ash that I have wanted for almost twenty years but never planted before. And a french silk lilac, a reminder of the first home we owned together. We may be at our limit for shrubs, but I’ve learned never to say never when it comes to investing in more bones for the gardens.

Vegetables will be limited in our small space. I planted asparagus last year, so that should be ready in another year from now if the dogs don’t get to it first. Tomatoes are always a staple for me, and I’ll continue my battle with whatever critter took a bite from all my tomatoes last year. Maybe I’ll grow beans again, but it seems a lot easier on my knees to head to the farmer’s markets rather than picking my own.

New for me this year will be a cutting garden. I plan to grow a variety of annual flowers that I can cut and bring inside. Fresh flowers indoors are always a good thing to focus on, no matter what time of year it is. And if I have my own cutting garden, my husband won’t need to buy me roses once every twenty five years.