A Soapbox moment

Hello, all,

I have been studying photography for a number of years now, through magazines, books and internet (I can't afford to go to college).  I love learning new things, and lately I have been learning about artificial lighting setups, and trying to come up with ways to accomplish these cool setups on a shoe-string budget.  A work in progress for sure!

But I would like to take the opportunity today to vent a little bit about Photoshop effects.  Make no mistake, I love PS, and use it on every image - this is an absolute requirement since I shoot RAW and must "develop" my photos. I usually add a tweak here and there, sometimes more.  I have no problem with tweakings, adjustments, modifications, or even advanced techniques like HDR (another thing on my "to learn" list).  I think that overall, PS has had a tremendous positive impact on photography as a whole.

However, there is a downside.  (Isn't there always?)  Nowadays, if a photographer, by luck or design, gets some fantastic image, the common response is "Must have been photoshopped".  What a pity!  PS has inadvertently devalued traditional photography!

Allow me to enter into evidence this shot.

Such colourful and unusually formed clouds are indeed rare.  I was very lucky to capture this shot, and yet, I hardly ever show it or use it, and for one simple reason.  Although it is virtually straight out of the camera, it is such an unlikely image that everybody instantly thinks of Photoshop!

I am not going to stop using PS, and I admire photographers who have really mastered this ultra-complex program.  I think it is a great boon, especially to beginners like me, and we have gained much because of it.  I'm just saying, photography has lost something because of it, too.

Okay, that's my rant.  Thanks for listening.

Winter Renewed

This week we had such beautiful weather, and yesterday was a little cool, but stiil pleasant.  But by the end of the day, snow was starting to draw its curtain over the world, and by morning, a thick white blanket had changed the landscape from brown and grey to pure white.  It reminded me of a haiku I wrote many years ago:

The sun warms the earth.

Flowers look up.  Is spring here?

But at night, snow falls.

American Tree Sparrow

A Mid-Winter Oasis

A Mid-Winter Oasis

The cold hard door of winter 

Rattles and groans under the weight of ice and snow

Until with a gentle hand, nudging, little by little,

Spring comes.

She taps quietly, insistently,

then eases the door open.

A ray of sunshine peeps in,

A fresh breeze laden with promise.

So brief, like a dream,

Then the door closes softly.

A warm day in mid-winter.

White Feathers

The sleeping earth is blanketed once again.  The soft white coverlet has built up one feather at a time, smoothed and shaped by wind, and now lies unbroken and waiting for the sun's blush.  What will the blank page reveal when morning comes?  Often it shows me what visitors have come in the night, and I laugh at the rabbit tracks and squirrel tracks, the faint scratches of sparrows.  It also conceals, and the shrubs and stones in my yard become indistinct piles and lumps of snow, waiting for warmer weather to be revealed once more.

But for now it's night, and I look out the window at the fresh white crystals encrusting the branches of the larch outside, and hope that the beauty will last until morning.

I'm back!

Though many a day I've been away,
It is not idle I've been,
In sun and shade, through wood and glade,
So many things I've seen.

The sounds and sights, now bits and bytes,
Within my hard drive wait
And so to you, my faithful few,
I send what I create.

Hello to all my followers!  Once again I am taking up my pen and paper, well, laptop, and allowing the poetry and prose that's in my heart to spill out into my blog for all the world to see.  I will again be illustrating said poetry and prose with some of my photos.  I have been working hard on my camera skills, so I hope that you enjoy this renewed offering!

Cheers, all!

Invisible Chickadees

Did you know that chickadees can turn themselves invisible? Yes, it's true. I can speak from experience!

Today I went to one of my favourite parks, Happy Rolph's Bird Sanctuary. It's a favourite spot for families in the summer, with a petting zoo and duck pond and lots of room to run. In the winter, though, it's usually devoid of people. The animals are tucked in a nice cozy barn, and the playground is abandoned.

The ducks are still there, even though it is completely frozen over this year. An attendant comes around with buckets of corn to feed them, and if they want to swim around duckily, they can fly a few dozen meters north to Lake Ontario and play among the ice floes.

But the chickadees... Ah, yes. I can hear them as I walk quietly through the woodland, up the hill from the pond. They cheep and twitter in the trees, so I know they're there, but they refuse to show themselves. They do it just to torment me, I'm sure! The chickadees at home, and even the ones in Alberta, all did the same thing. The chatter among themselves but as soon as I get close, blink! And they disappear! They would occasionally show themselves, just long enough to string me along, then disappear again! Darn chickadees! How can I not be insulted when I only see them when they come out to moon me? (See his little birdy butt there?)

Well, that's okay. I had a very enjoyable walk on a beautiful day, I got some fresh air and exercise, got some nice shots of seeds and frozen pond drippings, and I got to watch the ducks bob around with chunks of ice

,

and I got to hear the chickadees tweeting invisibly in the bushes.

At last! One brave little soul showed himself high up in the branches of a bare tree. I quickly focused in, and managed one shot. If you look really closely, you can see the chickadee right in the middle of the photo.

Now wasn't that worth a whole afternoon?

Kathy's Kitchen

As all my Facebook friends know, I spent some time this month at my dear sister's house in Edmonton. Kathy and her husband Dale are always very kind, generous and gracious hosts, and I love staying there. I am able to get the rest I need, and without the pressure of day-to-day duties, I have the time to do some experiementation with my camera. Still Life is not a genre I have worked in very much, but with a recent new thread on one of my favourite photography sites, I was willing to give it a try. (http://www.digital-photography-school.com/)

Kathy loves her kitchen. It is a beautiful, with burnished hardwood cabinets, gleaming appliances and a marble floor. Even more than that, it is a place where Kathy happily spends her time with her great collection of kitchen gadgets and small appliances. It is a place of love that is imbued with the ideals of "family".
Kathy's array of cooking utensils is particularly impressive, having been collected during her world travels in her role as a highly respected doctor, university professor and lecturer. She and Dale have also collected a variety of wine glasses and other beautiful items. All of these became potential subjects as I turned my attention to arranging some of these interesting items for a Still Life composition.

I spent many happy hours in selecting items to photograph, and finding ways to arrange them. I had no "seamless" for backgrounds, just a narrow length of cloth. I had to be very creative in my locations in order to make use of the natural light from the windows, and controlling the light was a real challenge.

In the end, I was able to come up with quite a few shots that I was pleased with. The experience alone was worth the many hours I spent on the project, and I learned a lot that I can continue to apply when I get more opportunity to delve into the field of Still Life.

I had a lot of fun with this shot - which took me about five hours to accomplish! I call it "Marching Kumquats". I hope you like it!

Ah, January already!

Ah, January already. The holiday season comes and goes as fast as a rollercoaster, with the various icons and yearly events whizzing by so fast that it is hard to enjoy them. After the BIG DAY, there is (hopefully) the brief respite, a few days of peace and contentment, when the housework slides, cooking is unnecessary thanks to the fridge full of leftovers and platters of cookies, and there is time to watch the movies that were this year's additions to the collection.

But too soon, too soon, it is time to take up our usual routine, go back to work, send the kids back to school, clean out the fridge (what did this used to be, I wonder?) and buy fresh groceries. The half empty rolls of wrapping paper are gathered up and stashed for next year, the turkey platter is back in it's place in the drawer at the bottom of the stove, ready for Easter.

And now, the part I always put off till last. Time to take down the tree. I like to wait until I'm alone in the house, so I can linger over each item, wrap it lovingly in tissue to store securely in its plastic box. The garlands are getting shabby, they will be replaced next year. I pause to dangle the "Baby's First Christmas" ball in front of my unseeing eyes. I'm seeing a beautiful baby girl, now in her twenties, entranced by the coloured lights and jingle bells, just as I was when I was a child.

I remember a favourite decoration from my childhood Christmas trees. It was a set of mirrored balls, each a different colour. I liked the silver one best, which looked for all the world like a miniature disco ball. Long before there was such a thing, of course. I loved how it would spin on its little string, reflecting the lights and casting splashes of rainbow on the walls and on my face, like a visible expression of the child's wonder of Christmas, that tickly sensation in my tummy that was "the Christmas feeling".

My own children have their own favourite ornaments. A few years ago, I was considering whether or not it was time to get rid of all the cheap, dollar-shop decorations from years gone by and upgrade to classier, more elegant designs. There was loud protests over that proposal! Although they were just cheap, gawdy little baubles, with worn paint, faded ribbons and showing their age, with plenty of chips, nicks and scratches, to my children they were favourite memories, and a connection to their own childhood Christmases, just as the disco ball was to mine. I could not take that away from them.

So here I go again, packing up the memories, our family treasures, and lovingly storing them away to be brought out and marvelled at another year. I don't know what this year will bring, but it will probably bring good and bad, ups and downs, sad times and glad. And next December when I dig up our treasures again, I will enjoy once more the trip down memory lane, which is decorated in red and green. I'm looking forward to next Christmas!

Thanks to all my Readers! Free Wallpaper Download

I am so happy that my Blog is being read by more and more people. I would like to offer my readers a free Wallpaper download as a bonus for being my fan and following my writings. This image and others from the same park, St. John's Nature Conservation Area, can be viewed at my Imagekind site in the "Autumn Forest" gallery. http://www.arianasart.com/



I'm also celebrating some sales in my Zazzle store! www.zazzle.com/arianamurphy*

Just e-mail me, and I'll send you the file. I tried to make it downloadable, but the image was too small. What can I say? Technically, I'm an idiot!

Cheers!

- Ariana

Life is Funny

As all my regular readers know, I am very fond of feeding the birds and squirrels that frequent my generous back yard. Every morning, I take out seeds and peanuts, and they eagerly anticipate my arrival. In fact, if I'm later than usual, they post a lookout to spread the news as soon as I show my face!

On nice days, when I have the time, I sit outside and watch them, and throw extra peanuts to the blue jays and squirrels. I usually have my camera with me, and occasionally get some pretty good shots, but mostly I like to just watch them. It's always amusing!

It's not easy to photograph the quick little visitors. I get plenty of pictures of fuzzy squirrel tails and empty branches where a bird was a moment before, but sometimes I get lucky.

Here are a few photos of the birds I have seen. See if you can identify them, and match them with the list of species. These are all birds I have seen in my backyard, although some of the photos were taken elsewhere.

And you're going to love the video!

I have listed the species here in alphabetical order. They're pretty common, so I'm sure you'll recognize at least some.

Blue Jay

Cardinal

Chickadee

House Finch

Mourning Dove

Northern Flicker

Sparrow

The Trees Weep Leaves

The trees weep leaves
In mourning for the passing season.
Yellowing pages from their summer scrapbook
gather at their feet like memories

And scatter before the wind.

Like the spring petals, born to die
But in that dying, giving birth
To something new, something beautiful
That cannot be without that willingness
To release what was, and grasp what can be.

The First Leaves of Autumn

I went for a walk in the woods today. It was a beautiful sunny morning, and I was glad to be out. It was a little cool, and the air tasted of autumn. As I walked, yellow leaves were falling here and there around me, and starting to gather by fences and at the feet of the trees. The grass has lost its sparkling green, and is starting to turn to brown. The year is drawing to a close.

But all is not dying. On the contrary! The seed pods are full and ripe, bursting with the promise of next summer's flowers. Berries and wild grapes are glowing in the bushes, and the trees seem to tremble in anticipation of the glory that is to come. There are still a few wildflowers, and squirrels are busily gathering and storing away whatever they can find. The air is full of birds, as this year's young, now full grown, prepare for their first winter, or their first migration. They too carry the promise of the future.

The leaves of autumn fall like the pages of a book being turned. Slowly at first, but soon falling thick and fast, we cannot stop it or slow it down. We cannot go back to the soft warm days of summer, but neither can we skip ahead to the bright bite of winter's cold. We can only embrace this one day, today, and allow tomorrow to be tomorrow. Each day is a gift, each dawn is a promise. Carpe diem.

Old leaves lie ignored
Frozen in a small puddle
A book none have read.

Morning Friends

How cheerfully the little birds

Greet me every morn.

Patiently they wait for me

To scatter seeds and corn.

How gladly does their happy song

Rise up to the sky.

Though gratefully they sing to me

It's not they who rise, but I.

Summer Delights

How softly does the gentle flower

Stand against the wind and rain

Grateful for the summer shower

And Nature's sweet refrain.

Feasts of Summer

Ah, summer. The earth blossoms into its full ripeness, and lazes in the sun. The sound of bees buzzing and a myriad of birds twittering in the trees is the soundtrack, underscored by the sonorous buzz of a distant lawnmower.

The smell of the flowers fills the air, and the scent of fresh-cut grass wafts over the fence. Evenings bring the rich aroma of burning wood, as backyard fireplaces are lit and families prepare for some time around a campfire - a tradition as ancient as humanity. No wonder the smell of woodsmoke is so evocative. Even a whiff can bring back happy childhood memories of campfires gone by, with the shadows of my brothers and sisters as children, now all grown men and women with children and grandchildren of their own, gathered around the fire with me.

I love to cook over a real fire. The smell of the meat sizzling, dripping juices into the coals, the scent of corn wrapped in its leaves and baking on the edge of the firepit, a veggie pack steaming on the other side, all are a calming influence on my heart and mind. No rush and hurry and zap in the microwave. Cooking over a fire requires time, and patience, and the careful management of the coals to keep a constant temperature, in order to bring forth not just a meal, but a work of art, an act of creation as much as any painting or symphony.

I stare into the fire, watching the play of the waves of light and dark on the coal bed. To me, it looks like the the sheets of colour that undulate across the sky in the summer Aurora Borealis displays. Sky and earth, speaking to each other, perhaps taking pleasure in the beauty they see across the gulf of air between.

The summer dawn is so beautiful, each one a unique and original work of art spread across a canvas as large as the sky. The wisps of cloud and infinite shades of blue are contrasted against the silhouettes of the trees in full leaf, the cool dawn breeze making the foliage whisper of a perfect summer day ahead. The flowers, closed up like furled umbrellas through the night, now open to drink in the touch of golden sun and the morning dew. The colours wake up too as the light grows stronger, the brilliant yellows and oranges and pinks a reflection of the glory of the rising sun. The birds twitter in appreciation of the magnificent display, and joyfully sing the praises of the day. Each morning is a gift, every dawn is a fresh promise of new possibilities. It is up to us to make of it what we will.

Not every morning will be bright and beautiful, not every day will be happy. But every morning has potential to be so, and can be eagerly embraced. Carpe diem! Sieze the day! It is only by experiencing the cloudy days, the days of storm and wind and drenching rain, that we can fully appreciate the warm sunny days, the beautiful days, the perfect days. The rain is as necessary as the sun to the earth, and to us, and one cannot exist without the other.

This is the secret of life - balance. All parts of existence has its counterpart, and both halves of the whole must be recognized and acknowledged to find our place in the universe, to find that perfect point of balance where there is no conflict, no pushing and pulling and struggling for dominance or attention. By finding our perfect centre, and safeguarding it within ourselves, we can find peace of mind and soul.

So take the time, pause in your regular routine, and reflect on the beauty that is summer. Consider the fire and the sky, perfectly complementing each other, so different and yet somehow having the same quality of inspiring peaceful introspection within the human soul. Each day is a gift, so enjoy it. Stop to smell the flowers.