inspired photography with just enough perspective
My impression of sunset at Vancouver’s English Bay. Sometimes it seems the further I get from literal, the better things are. I’m drawn to abstraction in photography because it’s an escape into a world of my own imagination. Like radio, I use my imagination to fill in the gaps. In my experience, the world becomes a little more interesting when I use my imagination a little bit each day.
When I lived up north in the cold and then visited a warm place, I would savor the last remaining moments of my vacation. I think that’s what was happening when I took this shot. A couple enjoying a last swim in the Gulf of Mexico one evening under a beautiful sunset in Bradenton Beach Florida. All good things come to and end, and fortunate for me I was here when it happened.
Sailboats moored on a foggy morning along the Manatee River at De Soto National Memorial.
Bradenton, Manatee County, Florida
Last autumn I was here on a ship leaving out of St John’s Antigua at the end of a typical day. As it’s now February that seems lifetimes ago. We arrived early in the morning and saw everyone headed in to work including the president in his limo. That’s the thing about foreign lands, even the most mundane things like going to work seems kind of interesting. I wonder why that is? Maybe if someone from Antigua saw me in Florida headed to work and wrote about it, …never-mind, it’ll never happen.
I don’t know about you but I’m glad, REALLY GLAD, it’s Friday. …There I go again, …making stuff up. I’m writing this on a Wednesday but I’m pretending it’s Friday so on Friday (today) it seems current. So in reality it’s Wednesday, but on Friday I’m planning on being really happy so I thought I’d post a picture of a wild sunset. The only thing that could go wrong is we get invaded by aliens on Friday and everyone is freaked out and gloomy while I’m posting pictures of happy sunsets. I’ll just have to cross that bridge when we come to it. Until then, speaking from Wednesday, happy Friday everyone. Hopefully the aliens haven’t invaded, …yet.
I just happened to be in Holmes Beach when the light was soft and the water was still and everything lined up, …except I didn’t win the lottery. Two outta three ain’t bad. It would be an eight mile swim to that bridge from this point, but I’m in no hurry, I’m on Florida time. Who am I kidding, I’m always in a hurry, except when I’m not. This day I was in a hurry to get to the beach to get a sunset shot, but this ended up being my favorite of the day, too many clouds for a sunset. So much for hurry. The sign says it all. The bridge in the background is the Sunshine Skyway Bridge, an icon of the Tampa Bay region in Florida.
It took nearly all my photographic skills (okay, so I got lucky, bear with me) to capture this scene without including the throngs of summer tourists right behind me. In fact I had to get out on a rock so as not to get knocked over by a fresh bus load. But then again, I was one of those tourist so I have no reason to complain. Hey, if it wasn’t for places like this most people would never get a glimpse of the beauty we have in this world. I would prefer to be walking to the other side of this lake and continuing on for days. And I will, on another day. But on this day I took the bus. This is Lake Louise in Banff National Park, Alberta Canada.
I took this picture one evening as I watched the Pelicans fly by Robinson Preserve in Bradenton Florida. What impressed me was that all the Pelicans seemed to be going in the same direction. As a rule, creatures in the wild are fairly smart, more so than I give them credit for. After quite few flew by my lens, I theorized they must be going somewhere specific. Maybe this is the appointed time that fishing boats come in, or maybe they just have a favorite place to sleep for the evening. Whatever the case they all seemed to have the same appointment in their calendars. After I took this picture I followed their lead and headed home for an appointment to eat supper and call it a day. Great minds think alike.
This is indeed the end of the Manatee River where it opens into the Gulf of Mexico in Manatee County Florida. My father was an eye doctor who warned me not to look at the sun, so naturally I hear this in my head whenever I take a sunset. Basically my process is to line up my camera, push the shutter button and hope for the best. I suppose we all do that, right? Anyway, when the sun is at this position there’s no time left as it quickly sinks into the horizon, it’s click time or go home. In effect, this is a picture of the sun while I was squinting, clicking away like paparazzi and hoping for the best. I suppose this is another thinly veiled metaphor for life; point in the general direction, squint, execute and then hope for the best.
This is what the world looks like through a fisheye lens. I’m not sure why but I enjoy pictures with strangeness like this, I get drawn in. A little distortion changes the perspective, small things seem big, big things small. Visual art. This is my winter version of Navy Pier in Chicago. I took my normal lens off and put on the fish eye lens and at this exact spot, lost my lens cap. I’ve not seen it since. So, if you’re ever here and you find a Nikon lens cap, give me a shout. Or maybe I should just fuhgeddaboudit.
