The image below is a recent shot from the Lower Big Lost River, Idaho.
Rain has melted away much of our snow below 6,000 feet and my yard shows it; rotting fall leaves and a brownness that lives under a snowpack for months reveals itself and once buried baseballs rest where they were frozen in time and a palpable earthy smell travels through cracks in the doors with a warmth greater than winter. Days are longer now and the hills near Hailey, Idaho are mottled white and brown, a snowshoe hare slowly morphing into the next season's coat.
Below are two images taken near a window in my house.
Here's a link to a great interview with the photographer Edward Burtynsky: Interview
His photo book, Water, came out in November of 2013. Below are a few quotes from the interview that I found particularly eloquent:
"I’d say, actually, that I’ve been careful not to frame the work in an activist or political kind of way. That would be too restrictive in terms of how the work can be used in society and how it can be interpreted. I see the work as being a bit like a Rorschach test. If you see an oil field and you see industrial heroism, then perhaps you’re some kind of entrepreneur in the oil business and you’re thinking, “That’s great! That’s money being made there!” But, if you’re somebody from Greenpeace or whatever, you’re going to see it very differently. Humans can really reveal themselves through what they choose to see as the most important or meaningful detail in an image."
"There’s a certain point where you learn from your own editing. You just stop taking certain pictures because they never make it through. Your editing starts to inform your thinking, as far as where you want to go and what you want to look for when you’re making a photograph."
To see a short slideshow of images in Water check out LensCulture's piece on Edward Burtynnsky HERE.
I walked by this cello/violin shop on my last night in Rome a few months ago. Doors were locked. Nobody there. I took this image through the window and stood peering in for a few long moments. I left feeling as though I had just walked through a hard to find painter's studio or the perfectly messy poet's desk.
A favorite photographer of mine, Keith Carter, has many quotes written on the walls of his darkroom and this particular quote stands out to me:
"Nothing in the world can take the place of persistence. Talent will not; nothing is more common than unsuccessful men with talent. Genius will not; unrewarded genius is almost a proverb. Education alone will not; the world is full of educated derelicts. Persistence and determination alone are omnipotent."
Rod & Line. Big Wood River, Idaho. Winter.
The image below was taken using a Nikon 50mm ƒ1.2 ais lens. It has become a favorite lens of mine. To make an aperture adjustment you've got to do it the old school way by rotating the aperture ring on the lens. No autofocus either. But at ƒ1.2 the results can take on a dreamy effect...
The image below was taken near the Silver Creek Preserve, Idaho.
Well, over the past week our winter has resurrected itself. It snowed much of today and 5" to 10" more is forecast to fall by Friday night. The images below were taken today near Silver Creek.
Bud Purdy, a Picabo, Idaho legend celebrated his 96th birthday last night at the Picabo Angler. One of his goals is to be back in the cockpit and fly from Picabo to Carey, Idaho by May 1st.
Bud was 10 years old when he spent his first summer working on the K-K Ranch in Picabo. In 1883 the Picabo Livestock Company was established by 6 brothers from Nebraska, one of whom was Bud's grandfather. Later, in 1955, Bud purchased the Kilpatrick Company and the rest is history.
This is an incredible short video by Sharptail Media.
Below is an image of a Callibaetis Spinner taken last September on Silver Creek. I managed to overlook this shot until now.
A terrific photographer & photography teacher who I admire, Chris Orwig, discusses, "embracing the flaws." That concept was likely brought to the surface for him when he was talking with the musician Seal about photography. Seal mentioned to Chris that, "When I shoot digitally I look for the flaws and when I shoot film I embrace the flaws." While I do not shoot film at the moment, the idea of "embracing the flaws" has not left me. Perhaps it's those imperfections that can, in the long run, make an image resonate.
A lens I frequently use for fly fishing photography--the Nikon ƒ2.8 14-24--is a flare machine. The two arcs on the left side of the above image appear in many images of mine when shooting into the sun with my 14-24 lens. Why not just embrace the marks the flare makes?