Showing posts with label Bedroom. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bedroom. Show all posts

Sunday, December 26, 2010

Farm Christmas

Another Christmas out of the way, and with it, my annual trek to Peterborough. I took my new lenses with me and had a go with them. I particularly enjoyed using the 11-16mm ultra-wide-angle lens while shooting around the barn with my dad. I learned that there really isn't a low battery warning on my SB-900 flash; it went from usable to dead seemingly without warning.

P.S. I processed these images along with a whole bunch of other family photos over the course of two nights, and I think during the process I applied my usual sharpening filter to the horizontals twice. I'm not going to fix them because I don't think it's worth it. Also thinking of building a blog from scratch because I'm starting to not like the small horizontal images and the detail they present. But that's a story for another day...



Inside the main barn, facing west.




Snow through the cracks in the wall, main barn, facing east.




Main barn walk-in 'basement'.




A shed looking cold in the snow.




Lots and lots of snow...




This all natural effect was created by shooting outside in the cold for an hour or so, then coming inside the warm house, where condensation formed on my 11-16mm lens. I kept checking it as it dried and about half of the lens had dried off when I took the photo. The center of the lens cleared first, hence the natural blur.





© Jeremy Buehler and Bug Noir (www.bugnoir.com), 2010.

Saturday, August 28, 2010

On My Way to a Nap

One of the problems (maybe awesome aspects?) of my foray into photography is that my mind keeps suckering me into looking at things. There have been three occasions where I've had people honk at me at traffic lights because I'm looking at something and trying to create the best composition for a mental photograph and missed the green light. It's a little unsettling, and no doubt annoying for the people in cars behind me. But I can't help myself.

Not everything we see is how it appears. Our minds play tricks on us with optical illusions hundreds of times a day but our brains are so efficient we never notice. But now I know they're there, I can't stop looking for them.

I remember walking to the subway one day about two years ago, and coming across a coworker from the game publisher/developer where I worked. He was stopped on the sidewalk, looking across the street, with his hands raised to form a rectangular frame. He was trying to understand the light and shadows on the walls of the buildings he saw. I asked him why, and he said as a video game level designer, it's part of his job.

I didn't really understand then; I just saw some shadows on a building. But thinking back to that day I remember there were light shadows and dark, triangles, rectangles, patterns, in a stunning composition formed by the setting sun and the buildings. That composition spawned an emotional response and made it unforgettable. Seeing the true composition of something is one way to make a photograph great.

I have a long way to go to master composition, but I'm enjoying seeing this way for the first time in my life. Or maybe that's not right. I'm not enjoying seeing this way for the first time because I've always seen this way; I'm enjoying understanding more about what I see.

Today I wanted to have a cat nap before I go out to take photos. I'm going to the Phyllis Rawlinson Park for another crack at architecture. This time, however, I'm going to follow a shape theme. Anyway, I went into my bedroom and lay down, and on my wall across the room was a fantastic shadow cast by the sun shining through some leaves and my window screen. The light was strong and the shadows crisp.

I started shooting, not realizing until I'd finished that my camera was on manual focus; I made a silly mistake and thought the low shutter speed, hand-held camera, and moving leaves were causing blur. So I almost missed the shot entirely, but managed to luck out with one image.



It's definitely abstract, but I'm thrilled with the lines, variety of tones, shapes and balance. I think it looks like Cerebus the Aardvark. Results may vary.


© Jeremy Buehler and Bug Noir (www.bugnoir.com), 2010.