A new angle

 

January has been a busy month.  The Scottsdale desert, Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument, The Magic of Cowboys workshop, school photos at Children First Leadership Academy, and now explorations at Gold Butte National Monument, Nevada.

In the last post, I riffed on getting out of the comfort zone.  I just want to say that sometimes it’s fun.  I have a new drone.  What a joy!

I have to eat my words a bit.  I’ve been complaining about drones for years, especially about the obnoxious whiny noise they make.  New ones are a bit quieter, and I figure I’ll be a good citizen and just fly when I’m far from others, which I often am.  I’m good with the trade-off.

Yeah, I'm a little late to the party.

 

Petrified sandstone detail, Gold Butte National Monument NV

The small print: for recreational flights the aircraft itself needs to be registered and there’s a short, quick safety quiz to take. I did all that and found it quick and painless.  It’s also important to be well-informed about where flight is allowed, and there are apps for that. Now I’m working on certification as a commercial drone pilot. The FAA “Drone Zone” website lays all that out clearly in case you’re interested.

 

Sunrise clouds, Gold Butte National Monument NV

We’d planned to explore Gold Butte National Monument, not thinking of flying there, but it turned out to be a great place to learn.  Most of the time there was no one around, and it’s a spectacular place.

Sun star over Gold Butte National Monument NV

The very first time I put the aircraft up, I stumbled on a sun star.  I took that as a small omen.  I was giggling like a schoolkid, and flight was easier than I expected.  Even I can do it.

There I am for scale, Gold Butte National Monument NV

Folks call them “tall tripods,” great for adjusting composition so things don’t overlap unattractively (an issue nicknamed “bad mergers”).  There’s also the unique opportunity to show an overview of the area, “the establishing shot”.  Using myself for scale is pretty cool, too.

Reflections in the tinajas, Gold Butte National Monument NV

I found that there’s a different mindset for aerial images and that I’m best off not switching back and forth with standing-on-the-ground image making.  There was some spectacular opportunity to do that too.

For now I’m coming up with lots of ideas about flying private property near home, fall color forest shots, and a new take on lots of favorite locations.

More images from Gold Butte are in the Winter 22-23 Gallery on the website.

Comfort Zone

 

Rycke and Michael racing

As my 60^th birthday approaches, I’ve been thinking about how to avoid stagnation and keep growing.

I admit that the “comfort zone” concept is a bit cliché, but lots of authors make a great case for seeking a little discomfort.  Here’s Tony Robbins’ take on the subject:

The ability to move out of your comfort zone in regular, positive ways allows you to strike the right balance between certainty and uncertainty. Pushing your boundaries can make you more productive, more adaptable, and more creative. As you push your personal boundaries, you train your brain to adapt to new situations and create new neural pathways that make you a better problem-solver, decision-maker, and leader. 

Last week was interesting.

Late Light at Organ Pipe

After a couple of nice quiet (comfort Zone) nights in Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument and a little exploration and social time in Ajo AZ (you’ve got to check out the murals!) I drove to Gold Canyon, on the easternmost fringe of metro Phoenix (easternmost for now at least.)

 

Andella and Revvy's mounted shooting demonstration

Lisa Langell does a photography workshop which she calls “The Magic of Cowboys,” hosted by Don Donnelly’s d Spur Ranch.  These three days offered plenty of opportunities for discomfort, but only the best kind. My favorite was an action shoot with mounted shooting athlete Andella Parten.  This young woman is pure inspiration and the challenge of getting action shots with the muzzle flash and her horse Revvy in a flattering stride was exhilarating…and challenging. There’s a sarcastic photographer expression, “spray and pray.”  We shoot fast bursts and rely mostly on luck to capture the moment we’re after.  It’s not elegant but is often effective.

 

Rycke and Michael roping

A close second was roping action.  Here’s team roper Rycke Scheier and Ranch Manager Michael Poulin pursuing a reluctant longhorn.

 

The decisive moment with Bill

Six members of the Salt River Regulators re-enactment group modeled for us.  One evening we had another challenge: capturing blank shots from their period weapons.

 

The Regulators

Rycke

The Regulators and the cowhands made great models.  Portraiture is not my greatest strength, but Lisa’s staff taught us all so much about posing and shooting people.

 

Cassie and Navajo in Silhouette

Then there were the silhouette images at sunrise and sunset, which can be tricky.  I find the resulting images particularly emotive, though.

Ranch life provides plenty of opportunity for interesting detail shots, too.

 

Before I’d even had a chance to recharge all the camera batteries, I joined friends from the nonprofit Through Each Other’s Eyes doing school portraits for Children First Leadership Academy in Phoenix.  The annual tradition is one of our outreach projects for TEOE.  Portraits again.  I was nervous, yes, but I learned so much from my colleagues who do them for a living, and the kids were fun.

 

As always, more images are in the Winter 22-23 Gallery on the website.

What’s Next?

 

I lost a good friend last month.  I want to share one of many memories of George.

He and I both suffered from a bit of impatience, especially in meetings when the discussion was getting repetitive.  You could see it developing; first he’d fiddle with the papers in front of him, then he’d start to shift in his seat, and before you knew it, he’d say (rather forcefully), “Okay, what’s next?”

I’ve gratefully adopted this technique myself.  I’ve been thanked several times, but I’m sure some folks are not so happy about it.

My point (relevant to photography) is that there’s something to be said for being open to the next thing, always.  It’s easy to get stuck in a rut, and I’m certainly not immune to that.

 

New spot last autumn; Caddo Lake Texas

Sometimes staying fresh is as simple as looking for new places to photograph or a new way of looking at a familiar place.

 

ICM sunrise on the California Coast

Then too, there are interesting techniques to try out, like ICM (Intentional Camera Movement), composites and abstracts, and (not new but endlessly providing fresh perspectives) macro photography.

 

I’ve just begun playing with the Pep Ventosa technique, a sort of multiple exposure method often done in the round.  I’m still learning, but here’s an early effort from the Joshua Tree Forest in Mojave National Preserve.

Sunrise, McDowell Sonoran Preserve AZ

When I'm shooting something for Arizona Highways Magazine, like this image on a shoot for a Hike of the Month, I am often in a new spot and have a chance to stretch my creative muscles.

"On-site" sunset in the Mojave last month

My husband doesn’t much like camping layovers (more than one night in a single location), so he keeps me moving.  We visit lots of new places.  Exploration itself is fun, but there’s also the challenge of making the most of a new place.  My friend and mentor Jerry Dodrill borrows the phrase “on-siting” from rock climbing which means giving the challenge a go without any prior knowledge.  I do my best, but also reserve the right to return.

Happy new year, and best of luck staying out of your rut.

Monthly Favorites 2022

Grand Staircase - Escalante National Monument, Utah

Through the years, this little exercise has allowed me to immerse myself in the year's memories and to consider  opportunities for gratitude.  There are many.

Moonrise over Watson Lake.  Prescott,  Arizona

January

I love to chase the full moon, especially the moon set in the morning. There's a good deal of research and preparation involved in this game, but it doesn't always work out.  I was concerned about the clouds this morning at Watson Lake in Prescott Arizona, but they made the image more interesting.

Pre-launch, Alamo Lake Arizona

February

Arizona Highways Magazine put out a call for images of Arizona State Parks early in the year.  I had not spent much time at Alamo Lake State Park yet, and really enjoyed a handful of trips there to camp and shoot.  One morning I rigged up my folding kayak and launched before sunrise.  In February. Below freezing. The "real" shots were lovely, but I love the sense of anticipation in this one.  My feet were numb for at least an hour despite the neoprene socks.

Long Drink, Marana, Arizona

March

Another lovely trip to the Desert Photo Retreat in Marana Arizona.  There's a whole post on this trip, but here I submit a favorite; reflections, eye contact, behavior, color, and interest in a common critter.  I love doing this trip with my friend Kim, and we'll be back in 2023.

Trio, Along the San Juan River, New Mexico

April

So begins the photography trips which include fishing.  Honestly I didn't expect too much, as winter still had its hold on the San Juan River Valley in Northern New Mexico.  Besides, I was trying to keep the dog out of the fishermen's way.  This little layered tableau was a lovely bonus.

Classic Grand Canyon View

Dory in Lava Falls, Grand Canyon

May

Grand Canyon river trip #9. That'll teach me.  High winds, infectious diseases, and an old, creaky body that doesn't bear up well to comparisons with its status at 21 years old when I took the first of these trips.  Of course we managed to have a good time anyway.  It's tough to choose one from two weeks of immersion (sometimes literally) in the Colorado River. So, I submit a couple.  A classic river view in late light and one of our trip leader rowing the elegant dory through the infamous Lava Falls.

Angler in Mogollon Rim Country, Arizona

June

Fishing and photography.  We've been working together these days; I'm photographing custom flyrods (marcoflyrods.com) and also shooting the angler in action.  I'm also discovering places I might not have otherwise found, most of which have running water (See July).  Here Marco is casting at East Clear Creek in Arizona.

Summer on the Upper Provo River, Utah

July

The upper Provo River, Utah.  There are also fish here.

Blue Ridge Reservoir, Arizona

August

A cold morning on Blue Ridge Reservoir.  Solitude, Osprey, fog.  That's a memory for sure.

Predawn Grand Canyon 

September

The best-laid plans. The Grand Canyon's South Rim is pretty crowded much of the time.  I generally only go when I have a good reason.  I'd hoped to catch some of the Plein Air painting during the Celebration of Art.  I'd even made plans to meet an artist I particularly admire.  No luck with any of that, but sunrise at Desert View was worth the price of admission.

Morning Moonset, Fish Lake, Utah

October

Another tough choice, given an epic, 2-week road trip through northern Arizona and Southern Utah.  This is the winner; taken in the Pando Grove of aspens near Fish Lake Utah.

Foggy Morning on Caddo Lake, Texas

Dramatic light at the end of the tree tunnel, Caddo Lake, Texas

November

This was my first adventure in the great Cypress Swamps called Caddo Lake Texas.  Yeah.

Electric Light, Mojave National Preserve, CA

December

There was a lot to choose from this month, including 7 days on the road at solstice.  There was subtle light, too, but I thought I'd go out this year with a bang.  

Cheers to y'all readers.  See you next year!

Regroup

 

Winter Solstice is traditionally a time to slow down, take stock of the year, and celebrate the return of (and to) the light.  All this quiet contemplation is no hardship for introverts like me.  We don’t do much for Christmas at our house, but these road trips have become a relaxed, joyful tradition.  We go to the desert (might as well be warm-ish) and revisit old favorite locations while discovering new spots.

 There’s a rhythm to these trips.  Morning walkabout and shoot, breakfast (I do love my breakfast burritos), pack, drive/explore/relocate, make camp, walking (or hiking) happy hour, read, download images, nap, evening walkabout and shoot, dinner, read or play cards. Simple, meditative, intimate.

 

Long view from Mid Hills Campground, Mojave National Preserve

This time of year serves in another way; there’s hardly anyone out there.  We don’t have to look too hard for solitude.  We expect to be alone when “boondocking” outside of campgrounds, but we actually also had a favorite campground entirely to ourselves. 

 

The Raven and Gypsy in Sawtooth Canyon, CA

We’re not really in a primitive camping situation; we love our phone booster, hand-held radios, and recently installed Sirius XM Radio (for drive time.)  Our oversized shoebox (the black Sprinter we call The Raven) is small but we have everything we need.

Further evidence against deprivation was our gas stop in Barstow.  My husband got ice cream and I picked up a Twix. And a bag of bugles.  Don’t judge; we do a lot of walking.  Barstow is an odd town.  I can’t drive through without thinking of Hunter S. Thompson’s line from Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas; “We were somewhere around Barstow on the edge of the desert when the drugs began to take hold.”

Nothing too hard-core.  We’ve been trying out micro-dose psilocybin for creativity and focus.  That’s a story for another post.

 

Morning light on the Mojave Riverbed

Afton Canyon, at roughly the western edge of the Mojave Road, had long been on my list.  I loved tromping around the Mojave riverbed and carefully checking out a lovely old railroad bridge.  The light was something, too.

 

Electric sunset in the Joshua Tree Forest, Mojave National Preserve

In the Mojave preserve, we turned up an unknown road and ended up alone in the Joshua Tree Forest for a sunset which knocked our socks off.

 

Dunes in the California Desert

Marco can hardly ever be talked into a layover (two nights in the same place), but I managed at the dunes.  There’s something genuinely magical about dawn and dusk on sand dunes. 

 

Oh, and Gypsy hung with us.

 There’s more in the Winter 2022-23 Gallery on the website.

'Tis The Season

 

"The Raven" watching the sunset

It’s getting cold here in the mountains; temps are often in the low 20s overnight with highs in the low 50s. I’ll happily deal with that if there’s fresh snow (soon I hope) but otherwise I love to camp and shoot in the desert where temps are 15-20 degrees warmer. Welcome to desert camping season.

 

Maricopa Mountains Sunrise

Last week we were on BLM (Bureau of Land Management) land around the Maricopa Mountains.  The weather was so lovely that I wore short sleeves one day.  BLM is great for loose rules about dispersed camping and dogs.  Gypsy approves, and this trip she returned from her explorations nicely smelling of creosote.  I’ve certainly smelled worse on her.

 

Gypsy, ever vigilant

I’ve been teaching Gypsy a command that our last dog, Luna eventually mastered.  When I say “tripod,” she knows she’s meant to stay behind me so she’s out of the shot and doesn’t leave footprints in snow or sand.  I’m convinced that she understands, but sometimes she just knows better.  In this case she really did.  I’ll add this image to a growing collection of backlighted Gypsy pictures – the best way to shoot a black beast.

 

Cholla

The Harquahala Mountains have become a nearby favorite in the last few seasons, but G and my husband had never been there.  This was also the dog’s first real experience with “jumping” cholla.  They don’t actually jump, of course, but they do a good impression of a wild leap toward anything that moves.  They are lovely with backlight. Just after arriving at our campsite, we followed her around, explaining the danger.  There wasn’t much effect.  Good judgement, they say, comes from experience and experience in turn from bad judgment.  She did eventually learn, the hard way.  We carried a comb and needle-nosed pliers in our pockets…

 

Evening Moonrise over the Harquahala Mountains

This shot was about as unplanned as they get.  The moon was one day past full when it rose that evening, and I went dashing down the hill in my crocs (I have dubbed them the ugly shoes) to grab this shot.  Speaking of cholla.

 

Verde Canyon Railroad crawling alongside the river

Though not technically desert, we did lose a bit of altitude and gain some temperature on a little outing the week before.  The confluence of Sycamore creek with the Verde River was showing just the last bit of autumn color (gotta get there earlier next year).  Marco fished, and I spent most of my time on landscapes, but also had fun with the Verde Canyon Railroad, nicely visible from the bluff above.

 

Sycamore Creek

We landscape photographers welcome gifts of all kinds, and this morning the blessing was cold air, which brough fog over Sycamore Creek.  This one was worth getting the boots wet for.

 

Desert Camping season is just getting started – check out the Winter 2022-23 Gallery on the website for more images from this trip and for what’s next.