The Artist’s Way

You spend time refining your art. You take classes. You learn your tools. You seek out a mentor. You push your bounds and find your limits.

But you can never, ever predict what work you do that might capture the attention of others.

For me, with my photography, it’s been about patience. About learning how to set up a shot. Understanding the exposure triangle (ISO, aperture, and shutter speed) and how to apply it.

I study other people’s photos. I figure out what I like about them and what I don’t, and I learn. I try to replicate. I use the levers and switches and sliders and I take them to the very ends of their capability to see what I like.

And sometimes I get a really good shot. Something I’m excited to share.

Every once in a while, something special happens. Something like…a parade.

And I think to myself, “well, why not take the camera.”

So there I am at the corner of Market and Powell in San Francisco, and trolley cars start rolling by carrying the players from this World Series winning team.

The light is terrible. Not only am I down in a canyon of tall buildings, but my subjects are in motion. I bump ISO, but that gets too grainy. I fiddle with white balance, one setting is too blue, the other too yellow. I mess around with my aperture. A little depth of field or a lot?

The parade is in full swing so I begin shooting away. I’m using my 70-300 lens so I can see faces.

Later, at home, I download the batch, some 200 in all. Most photos are blurred. Some turn out ok.

But there is one. Something magic. Something special. Something unpredictable.

And out of nowhere, six hundred and fifty people have looked at my photograph on Flickr.

That photo is below. It is San Francisco Giants players and best friends Aubrey Huff and Pat Burrell. Aubrey has just handed Pat a Bud Light.

Oh, might I add…Aubrey is wearing his Cooperstown bound red “Rally Thong” around his neck.

*crickets chirping*

Wow. Sure is quiet around here.

World Series is over. Key to the city handed out. Parade is finished. Streets swept.

Good. Excellent.

So. What else is going on?

Football? Hmm. The 49’ers. Played in London. Beat Denver. Brought their record to 2-6.

*yawn*

Basketball? Not my thing.

Hockey? Meh. Maybe.

Nope. This begins the long offseason.

As Bart Giamatti once opined, baseball is designed to break your heart. “The game begins in the spring, when everything is new…and leaves you to face the fall alone.”

Alone.

Quiet.

Bored.

Pitcher and catchers report in 102 days. (Feb. 13, 2011)

Meanwhile. All the fun is gone. The good times are over. The party has walked away.

Funny what totally appropriate image the “randomizer” button will net you on stock.xchng.

“Cow’s Behind” by Alix Morse provided royalty free via stock.xchng

When the Veil Thins

Tomorrow Dia de los Muertos or Day of the Dead is here again.

When all the plastic spiders and smashed pumpkins of Halloween have passed, I turn to this well known Latin American holiday to celebrate my friends and family who have passed on to the next journey.

Other cultures have similar holidays and traditions, the Bon Festival in Japan, All Saints Day in Europe, but it’s the Mexican version of Dia de los Muertos that resonates with me.

The belief, loosely, is that on this day the veil between the living and the dead is thin, and so offerings of favorite food, booze, decorations and memorabilia will be seen, enjoyed and appreciated by our deceased.

I think Dia de los Muertos appeals to me because it brings a sense of humor and fun to a painful, somber thing. It’s a chance for a community to come together and remember. To feel close to those we have lost.

Personally, just this past August, I withstood a very deep loss. Tomorrow I will remember my friend who died way too young.

I will remember my father who passed away almost six years ago. My mom will certainly remember her husband. Together, we keep his memory alive.

Grandparents, friends, family, people I hardly knew, famous people. We all deserve to be remembered by those we’ve left behind.

My grief is a slippery thing. Sometimes so overwhelming, I don’t know how I can sit up and walk through the world. Other days, it’s like a dull noise in the background. Remembering on a day like tomorrow helps keep me grounded. Keeps me sane.