Mayans

She didn't speak any English, and her Spanish didn't seem to be much better than mine.  Her native language was Katchiquel, one of the 21 Mayan dialects officially recognized by the Guatemalan government.  I know two words in Katchiquel.  Still we communicated.  She was at her daughter's middle school (called "Basico" in Guatemala) for the ceremonies.  At each of nine schools that week, our little group participated in celebrations of better opportunities for education.  This woman communicated her joy about the new prospects for her child and her village with hugs and kisses on my cheeks.  I gave her a little picture book of Arizona I had made.  She hugged me some more.

 I've just returned from my fifth trip to the Western Highlands of Guatemala.  The majority of that time has been spent with a nonprofit called Cooperative for Education, or COED.  The opportunity to participate in a high-quality literacy program is the main reason to be there. 

On this trip, though, I've been thinking about other reasons, like access and interactions.  Thanks to COED, I've traveled to remarkably isolated villages.  Sometimes the parents tell us they're amazed that we've come so far to see them.  They say that even the Ministry of Education seems to have forgotten them.  All over the world, the smaller the town, the kinder the people. 

 Another aspect of being welcomed with open arms to isolated Mayan communities is having the occasion to photograph strikingly beautiful faces (young and old) surrounded by color.  I concentrated on portraits this time around, to my great joy.

 This heroic woman spends 40% of her income sending four of her nine children to school.  Her life would be much easier if they were working in the fields with their Dad, but she won't hear of it.

 I met Lola, this baby's Mom, six years ago.  I'm always happy for a chance to catch up each trip.  When she's finished with her day selling crafts and caring for her two children, she stays up late hand-beading stunning belts.

 Maria supports her family by participating in a Weaver's Cooperative, in which the individuals support each other as well as marketing and buying raw materials together.  She invited us to see her home and meet her family.

There are so many stories; just a few of the reasons I love Guatemala.

More Images from this trip are on the website.

Hoop Dancers

 Hopi Hoop Dancer Scott Sinquah

Last Saturday I indulged in some of my favorite things; The Heard Museum in Phoenix, colorful hoop dancers, a gathering of photo geeks, and learning stuff.  Arizona Highways Photo Workshops brought together excellent instruction and breathtaking dancers in vibrant costumes.

Fabulous.

A number of fascinating Native American Hoop Dance pearls turned up during my research:

• ·        Hoop dancers manipulate as many as 50 hoops, telling stories with figures which represent the eagle, butterfly, globe and snake, for example.
• ·        Historians differ in their accounts of hoop dancing's origins, but most agree that some form has been practiced in North America for at least 600 Years.
•  ·        Though hoops were once made of plant materials like reeds, they are now more commonly made of plastic tubing wrapped with colorful tape.
•  ·         As in many cultures, the circle has deep and varied symbolism.  Several sources mention the admonition that mischief breeds mischief ("what goes around comes around,") though more  pedestrian interpretations such as the cyclicity and connectedness of life are more common.
•  ·         Hoop Dance encompasses the traditions of many North American tribes, and continues to evolve to include movement from hip-hop and other modern forms.

Footwork; Navajo Dancer Tyrese Jensen

In the morning we were indoors working with studio lighting.  I've traveled with Navajo photographer Leroy DeJolie during previous workshops.  He is consistently focused on students and has a knack for teaching that makes his workshops a pleasure.  I especially enjoyed back lighting models against a black backdrop and creating black & white images.  B & W emphasizes texture and pattern which might be easily overlooked in a brightly colored image.

Pagentry; Navajo Dancer Nathan Largo

The afternoon shoot was outdoors, in available light.  Instructor Jeff Kida (Photo Editor, Arizona Highways Magazine) says "I can find [light] better than I can make it," although in the spirit of full disclosure, he can make it really well too.  We started in the arena where the World Championship Hoop Dance Contest is held each year (The 23rd Annual Contest will be held February 9-10 2013).  This was a complex challenge, as the light was bright and harsh, and backgrounds were a distracting mix of sidewalks, fences, buildings, and flagpoles, not to mention fellow photographers traversing this theater in the round. 

Kinetic; 5-year-old Kailayn Jensen

I settled into a mindset which I also use for photographing wildlife , following the moving target that the dancers create and concentrating on anticipating their next moves while thinking about camera settings and the relationship of the subject to the background.  It's a meditation, really, and not all the images are keepers.  Not hardly.

Kailayn Jensen; a rare quiet moment in the studio

I'm so grateful for this opportunity to interact with the dancers and hone my skills.

More Hoop Dance images are on the website.

Monthly Favorites 2012

Just for fun, here are my monthly favorites from 2012...

 January. The first full moon rise of 2012. Alamo Road, Northwest of Phoenix.

February. Line & Texture;  bird nests in a saguaro cactus at the Desert Botanical Garden, Phoenix.

 

March. Ear of the Wind, Monument Valley.  The flute player is legendary Navajo Guide Tom Phillips.  Sadly Tom died a short time after this trip.

 

April.  White Pocket, an otherworldly and fabulously beautiful place in Northern Arizona.  This trip was memorable for some unexpectedly cold camping as well as the views.

 

May.  Ten days in the Grand Canyon by raft, of course, presents a dilemma about which image to choose.  I love the color, peacefulness, and mystery of this image of Matkatameba Canyon.

 

June.  I was attracted to this spooky-looking abandoned water treatment plant on six-mile creek in Ithaca New York, as well as the fabulous contrast provided by the falls.

July.  The adventure of four days photographing Alaskan Brown Bears in Katmai National Park was topped off by our interaction, thigh-deep in a river, with this individual who came a little too close.  Just a little.

 

August.  The enchanted Christopher Creek along See Canyon, Rim Country AZ.

September.  This was a fabulous afternoon; essentially an afterthought.  I met a new photographic friend, and we sat through a deluge with lightning and waited four hours for this light.  Magic.

October. Joshua Tree National Park, CA.  There's really nobody around during the shoulder season, which makes sunrise in the Cholla Garden just that much more magical.

November. The great alcove, Fiftymile Canyon in Lake Powell.  This image exemplifies the best of bounced light, with it's gradation from warm to cool as well as the overwhelming scale provided by the hiker.

December.  Winter in the West Fork of Oak Creek, Sedona AZ.Textures, curves and lines, peace.  I'm also proud to have kept the dog prints out of the images.

Thanks for your support.  It was a great year.

Five Island Day

 Lone Walker, Santa Barbara Harbor

Anyone who has much experience with the Santa Barbara area knows what this means. 

There was rain, then wind, and the next day from Gibralter Rock, high in the foothills, we could see 5 channel Islands.  From West to East, San Miguel, Santa Rosa, Santa Cruz (where a piece of my heart resides, but that's a story for another day), Anacapa, and San Nicolas (much further offshore.)

I have no images of that.  Sorry.  It is a dandy metaphor for a rare and special time, though. 

We had the privilege of showing our friends around this place which has everything. Except affordable housing.  Or integration.  Or winter weather. But I digress. In all seriousness, Santa Barbara is gorgeous, and an inspiration.

There's a quality of light there after a storm which I can only describe as crystalline.  The clouds move out quickly and the rising sun lights up the mountains in a way that brings to mind Homer's rosy-fingered dawn.  Pinker than our orange sunrises in Arizona.  Gentler.

 First Light, Mission Santa Barbara

Dawn at the Mission made us both gasp (just the two of us.  I never ask civilians traveling with us to stand around shivering in the dark waiting for the sun to come up.  I'd run right out of friends).

Here's wishing you a five-island new year. 

More California Christmas photos are on the website

Unconventional

 Barn, Pine AZ

I'm not normal. 

Some folks who know me are laughing, I know.

Think about it, though.  Normal people, on the weekend of December 15, are baking cookies, writing Christmas cards, decorating or [cringe] shopping. Many of them are even enjoying themselves.

My hostess in Pine Friday night was in fact baking cookies.  I don't know her well enough yet to predict whether she thinks of herself as normal.  No disrespect is intended.  Some of my best friends are normal.

After spending the night in luxury in Pine AZ, my friend Greg and I slogged around in the winter wonderland there, and in nearby Strawberry and points north.  At one point I was cruising through snow above my knees.  Fabulous.  My new Sorel boots were pretty great, too.

All the way home I was thinking of Sedona in the snow.  I couldn't resist heading up on Sunday.

West Fork 

There was about a foot of snow in the West Fork of Oak Creek Canyon, just a handful of people, and very few footprints further up the canyon.  I have a weakness for fresh snow piled up on rocks in the running creek.  

Sunset and Clearing Storm, Sedona

After a snack and hot chocolate at the remarkable Indian Gardens, the sunset and clearing storm over Mount Wilson was breathtaking.

Who needs normal?  Just don't be looking for a holiday card from me this year.

More images from this winter are on the website.

Belonging

Lone Hiker in the Grand Alcove, Fifty Mile Canyon

"The Colorado Plateau selects it's people.  If chosen, you know; this landscape speaks to your emotions and spirit; you belong."  -Stephen Trimble

These adventures always begin with the mundane; food, sleeping bags, spare camera batteries.  Once we pull out of the dock at Wahweep Marina, though, the thrill starts to build. It felt like coming home.

Lake Powell is a place of contrasts.  Creating nearly 2,000 miles of coastline, it has flooded some (according to the old-timers) spectacular, mostly dry landscape.  I avoided the lake for years, thinking only of what was lost when the lake began to fill in 1963.  Five years ago I boarded a houseboat there for the first time and had a chat with the Navajo captain.  He made the point that it would be impossible to see much of this terrain without the lake to travel on.  In the end I decided that everything is a trade-off, and that since this water-hoarding, electricity-producing tarn isn't going anywhere any time soon, I ought to enjoy it.  Besides, water creates reflections, color and drama.

The houseboat experience is interesting, to say the least.  As camping goes, it's pretty cushy, with a bedroom (though a bit small at 7 X 7 feet for two of us and our stuff), bathroom (two shared by eight travelers) and kitchen on a 50-foot craft.  Speaking of the kitchen; our Captain, guide and chef Danny Woods (This Side of That Guiding Services) took such good care of us that we needed only to concentrate on the landscape.  Spoiled indeed.

 The dazzling lightshow in Clear Creek (Cathedral in the Desert)

Last light on the ridge above Padre Bay.

It never hurts to look down, at the tumbled cobbles delivered from distant mountains.

"If there is magic on this planet, it is contained in water." -Loren Eiseley

Welcome Home.

More Lake Powell Images are here.

Bag Lady

I need to tell the truth about my camera bag problem.  I have a lot of them.  Like most addicts, I've been restless and unsatisfied.

Sometimes I need one for a specific purpose, like the water-resistant bag I got for the Grand Canyon raft trip.  It's frustrating, though, because I can't easily access the lower part of the bag and I won't get much more use out of it.  Then there's the big bag that will transport even my big telephoto lens on airplane trips.  It's perfectly sized for overhead bins in little prop planes.  In South Africa and Alaska the flight attendants really thought I'd need to gate check it. Thank goodness, no. It's big for hiking around once I get there, though, and has less structure and padding than I'd like.  I bough another bag specifically for carrying less gear on tougher hikes, but it's oddly designed and doesn't really hold much.

Until recently I had something like seven bags and was not really excited about any of them.

After recommendations from lots of friends, I've purchased a Think Tank Streetwalker Pro.  I thought this would be my minimalist hiking bag, and it does function in that way, but it holds a pro body and four lenses, with space to spare for all that other stuff, including compass, headlamp, cards & batteries, rocket blower, rain covers for camera and bag AND has a no-nonsense tripod holder and stretchy water bottle pockets on both sides.  It manages somehow to be little on the outside and big on the inside and (be still my beating heart) serves more than one purpose well.

I got so excited that I started a dialog with the company and I've become one or their affiliates.  That means that, if you're inspired to buy one of their products, you can use my code and get a free gift, and I get a little something too.  Think Tank is an innovative company and they've created a win-win for us.

If you're interested, you can use the Think Tank Link to enter the website as a Friend of Skyline Images.