This is the first birthday I've ever woke up and walked across the street for a walk on the beach.
I love it. Even with an overcast sunrise. We did catch a sunrise by 8 when we went out and went swimming. Yes, we were swimming in the chilly sea by 8 am like little kids. I was sunburnt enough (from a Friday afternoon nap on the beach) that the water wasn't cold to me.
Hub took over the camera for a while on Friday evening. Here I am, the older I get the more I like photographs featuring my "good side."
These images were shot last Friday and Saturday along the beaches of Galveston Island. A Portuguese Man O' War from an early Saturday morning walk along the beach. An attempt to capture a ocean sunrise, which failed due to cloud cover.
So, I started this page three years ago in May of 2010. Since beginning this page I've been to the Texas beaches four times, I've enjoyed each trip.
What do I like about photography? I like that I can manipulate and image and make you, the viewer see a better image than I shot. I like creating beauty out of a place if you had a full view of you wouldn't see the beauty. Taking the mundane and making it stand out.
It's a strange feeling to have completed a long term goal. I'm adjusting to the emptiness that is left behind.
Flowers in the sand. I walked the beach prior to leaving Galveston for the sunburnt, sore trip home from the relaxing weekend on the beach.
Sometimes the little things matter a lot. I wonder why people don't take the time to notice the little beautiful things in the world.
But despite the beauty of the wildflowers that you can find everywhere in May...
My Brother gave me a call last Friday or Saturday and asked me if I wanted to come photograph an old house which he was going to tear down and salvage the wood and materials out of it. I, of course, said yes. Despite knowing all of the things I should be doing and working on, could not miss out on an opportunity like this. Isn't it interesting how when you see a place like this, that you wonder what kind of people lived here. You have a nostalgia for the memories that once filled this house. You can feel the decades of life that went on within these abandoned walls and can't help but wonder why the house was abandoned and left by its owners.
Thanks to the tin roof the house was sound and solid indoors. I imagine this house is at least a hundred years old or more. It has not been lived in for a very long time, so what a treat to be able to go through it. My friend Carolyn joined me. It was the first time that I've ever went out shootinng with a fellow photography enthusiast and normally it is my form of solitude, but I discovered how much fun it is to get out and actually talk to someone who has the same passion that you do. We had a great time, you should go like her page on Facebook!
Sunday was just what I needed. After a dismal April of cold,rainy weather not to mention being trapped indoors staring at a microsoft document for hours on end, I could not resist the chance to get outside. Carolyn and I had chatted back and forth about going out shooting together since she shoots the same sorts of things that I do, and we finally had that opportunity.
These photos will take up more than one post and they are not in chronological order. The lovely basement was the last room that we shot. It was filled with jars and jars. Empty jars and a plethora of jars filled with black syrupy goo, which I can only imagine was 50-60 year old preserved jelly or preserves. Tasty. So tasty in fact I picked up a jar, which apparently was not sealed and it leaked all over my hand. I know it was a sugary substance. I'm patiently waiting to see if I have some horrid bacterial illness multiplying within my body.
See, the jelly dripping out of the jar. Well, it's dripping because yours truly picked it up, thinking it was sealed. Of course.. it wasn't. Ewww.. germophobes - go wash your hands now. Fortunately, most things don't freak me out.
I rinsed my hand with an entire bottle of bottled water and regretted not having anything anti-bacterial in my car. I am afraid to read botulism symptoms since I went there and have had a twenty four hour headache now (which is unusual). I will blame graduate school for the headache though. If I die from the basement syrup, I want "It Was Worth It." printed on my tombstone, because opportunities like this are totally worth it. This was probably one of the most fun days I've had with the photography. I refuse to read the symptoms of Botulism on webmd for the next week or so, or until the headache goes away. I'm the hypochondriac who won't ever go to the doctor.
This chair was in the basement. The basement was dark and I had to use my external flash on these shots. Totally worth it. Thanks to my Mom for buying me the external flash, or I'd have never got my creepy basement shots.
Feed sack below the window in an upstairs room. I'm getting tired and really do have a headache.
Some peeling paint. I have so many more shots to edit, yet I'm too tired. For the second time in April I went for a run this evening. I pretty much stopped to work on my thesis this month. One reason I stopped is because running is excellent for anxiety, it would kill my anxiety and my worries about deadlines would pretty much be gone temporarily. It was also a pretty cold month which didn't encourage me. But, I can't wait to share more of these photos tomorrow as I cram for my final in my other class. So goodnight readers. You should leave a comment occasionally so I'm not just deleting spam, I would love to hear what you think of this page.
I was contacted by the producers of the short film Cicada Princess quite a while ago. They asked to use one of my Foss Lake Sunset images in the production of their stop motion children's film. It was quite a while ago, I've been keeping up with the news on Facebook and the newsletters that are emailed out (it's actually pretty exciting). So this evening I check the mail (highly unusual), and even more unusual to actually have something that is not a bill. I find an envelope stamped Cicada Princess. Inside I find a copy of the short film. It's pretty cool!
So I snap a photo of the background image on my television. This was really neat, because my trip to Foss Lake to camp that summer was less than optimal. In fact it was pretty dismal, it rained every day, absolutely miserable. But the day that I shot the photographs Foss Lake Sunset - July 2010 it was magical! One of the most beautiful sunsets that I've ever had the pleasure to photograph. I also shot one of my all time favorite photos of my youngest son that evening: Storm Clouds Over Foss Lake.
See... above, Still Photography! Joy Franklin.. yes, that would be ME!
Yes, Me..with my Canon 7D... I got a little tiny taste of Hollywood, I'm in a film credit. I'm allowed the ego right? I mean..see the credits. ;-)
So I had a pretty rotten day today. I had a rotten meeting discussing my thesis, which of course is my idea of a personal hell. I've decided that my two year investment in Graduate School was an amazing experience overall and I love the University of Oklahoma. I do not love academic writing, I do not love the idea of writing a paper that includes chapters. I like writing from the heart, I like blogging, I like self reflection and I love photography more than anything. I like sharing my work on the web and I like knowing that people from all over the world can view and benefit from my images, particularly people who aren't in Oklahoma perhaps it gives them a touch of home or virtual tourism. But, I am in the middle of revising and editing this document which of course is misery for me and a disappointment and I wish that I was better at writing in the format that is needed.
So, my interest is revived in Cicada Princess. I did a google image search, and what did I pull up - but the Huffington Post. I didn't know any of my images had ever been used in it, or this had been written about!
So, I may never be a great academic writer, or desire a PhD, but why do I need to validate myself in that way when I have a means to express myself and gain readers, viewers and occasionally a little bit of hollywood? But, back to my thesis, I'm getting excited about Graduation which is nearing.
Do we remove meaning when we overuse a word? One word I notice a lot in photography circles is people labeling themselves Fine Art while only maintaining a "Facebook Photography Page" or a Blog or a self promoted booth in an antique mall. Do we, as arrogant souls abuse the idea of what "fine art" is out of ignorance or self importance? I struggle using the term fine art within my work because I am no David- I am no Caravaggio (should you apply the words Fine Art to yourself without knowledge of art history?). I work (play) with a digital medium, I am now dabbling into prints, but they are pixels from a printer. Fine art as opposed to crafts, or "artsy." I've never considered myself an "artist" by any means, I'm comfortable with the term "photographer" now. Not with the term "professional" to the degree that others seem to jump right in with.
I took these shots of my daughter this afternoon. I would consider them bordering fashion/fantasy type photography, but far from Fine Art. Perhaps, if I ever have the outside approval to have a gallery showing in a museum, I would think of my fine art prints.
Just as this shot has a nice exposure, it is slightly out of focus. I call myself a landscape photographer, because that is what I love. I do not label myself as a fine art photographer, because someone may stumble across my page and see my amateur ability or my sub-standard equipment within my shots. I consider myself a fine art critic. I've been schooled in nearly 15 hours of art history in my educational career. I'm fortunate that I can see my errors and the mistakes that I could not see two years ago in my photography.
Perhaps we should be slightly more humble in our abilities, there is always someone out there to knock us down. This post comes from a weekend visit to an Antique Mall in Duncan, there was a booth of "Matted, signed and framed" prints which the owner wanted outrageous prices for. Like $35 for a small 5x7 print (which I can get prints of for pennies on the dollar on my print site). I can purchase a 16x20 and get a beautiful print for under $20. I realize there is a driving desire to turn something you love into profit for many people, money is a form of acceptance. Money is a way to feel like you're good enough at something. I would always prefer to underestimate myself, yet I'm not afraid to share what I do.
My art- my landscape photography, my portraits, will not be remembered four hundred years from now. Perhaps, that is how I measure fine art. If I walk into a museum and see a particular artist can I name them. Can I recognize their style and does it stand out from museum to museum? That is the measure of someone who made it as an artist. Is some of my photography artistic, yes, it is. Will I call myself anything more than just a "photographer" - not likely. Do I consider some shots to be "fine art" - of course. Will I attach that label to myself, no. Should we call out people for selling bad photography? No, I don't believe in crushing people's dreams and aspirations. Is there a realization that someone somewhere could be sitting around scrolling through your photos as their bad example? I hope there is, because there is someone better at this than me and maybe I will learn from them. If I ever have time, to seriously dabble in learning more technical skills.
One of my greatest works of beauty is captured above. My Daughter. In November of 2009, I knew nothing about the technicalities of photography. I took snapshots. Education is the difference. Educate yourself on everything you can. Your life will be richer for it. This has been my cranky commentary for the night, as I return to my Masters degree Thesis writing (which is making my cranky).
Something interesting happened this afternoon while the husband and I were on a nice little afternoon drive. We decided to drive out to Alligator Rock which is on a road which was (the last time we were there) called "Dr. Pepper Road. Now alligator rock is just a large rocky outcropping on the side of a county road. I'd had someone contact me for directions to it (which I couldn't adequately give since it is in the middle of nowhere between Velma and Loco in Stephens county.
This noble Gator, sitting by the barbed wire fence.
My last post about this was another evening my husband and I were driving around out in the country. What I enjoy about our drives is he has all of his childhood stories and memories in these rural Stephens county places. Previous Alligator Rock Post
Now here is something we found intresting about our little drive today. The last time we visited the road to Alligator Rock was clearly marked with "Dr.Pepper Road" (at the intersection of Loco Road south of Velma). This time (two years later) - the Dr. Pepper Road sign is totally gone (no post- nothing). And there is a "Do not Molest the Alligator " sign, it also says "County Property" well guess what citizens of Stephens County Oklahoma, this is OUR county, we pay the TAXES this is OUR property. It is also interesting, that in today's age a rock IN A DITCH would warrant the time and effort and a sign, this rock is in such a remote area that without directions you won't find it. Especially with changing road signs.
How ridiculous it is that someone felt the need to put a "Do Not Molest" sign up. Can you imagine had Onate ran across a "do not molest" sign while visiting El Morro in New Mexico, what became inscription rock? Do you really think that individuals who have no respect for nature or the earth would respect a sign put up by a county in the middle of nowhere? In fact the "Do Not Molest" sign takes this from being a cool rock in the middle of NOWHERE. To a social commentary on the state of today's society. Where everything is regulated, the county does not trust "The people." I would have never imagined I'd have found a political soapbox topic while out on a country drive over a rock that looks like an alligator. How ridiculous.
This is just a neat spot on the road. I don't care if drunken teenagers managed to scratch their name on the rock. In 100 years those names will be history.
I'm glad January is drawing to a close, despite the amount of work ahead of me in the next couple of months. I love being able to get outside in this dreary month as the temperature bounces from the lovely mid-seventies to the frigid thirties and below. I have a few reasons for not liking this time of year, as the memories of the past years can come flooding in at this time. But, I have a good feeling about this year and think it will be fine. I went out today with my Sister and hiked the canyon.
I was sort of in the mood to run, but I was more in the mood to photograph as the day was perfect. Beautiful weather. All of my children decided they wanted out of the house too, so we came to Auntie's and Grandma's house.
It was one of those perfect afternoons, an afternoon to shoot.
Here is my Dad's other passion, antique iron. Now, this is a tractor graveyard. Please have reverence.
It was an afternoon where everything looked perfect (except the inside of my house, my laundry, etc).
So, my sister and I are out walking and I hear my name yelled out! I scream. Why? I don't know, I react that way. I knew my Dad wasn't SUPPOSED to be down there, because the four wheeler was at the house and we were nearly a half mile from the house. So I was startled. Here comes my Dad with a shovel, digging around in his glauconite. My Mom called me this morning telling me that they had to drive around in the country and look at all the new oil rigs that had gone up. So I suspect I will be photographing some rigs in the near future, so he can look up their information on the corporation commission. After I got over my heart failure, we had to walk down and show my sister the "green sand" and give her a little geology lesson.
And here is our resident geologist. While I'm the amateur archaeologist, who thinks all rocks look alike. So, yeah, not likely to find anything interesting out here. I think perhaps I may be better at geology than archaeology. At least I identified the mystery green mineral.
My Sister taking a dig at it.
So I decided that this rock is probably not showing me dinosaur tracks, but it doesn't mean I didn't photograph it and think about it. So this is unofficially dinosar track rock. Yeah. Because I said so, that's why!
My sister spotted this bleached turtle shell, I photographed it and we commenced to digging it out from under the rock that it got trapped under and died. Poor turtle. I got the shell, but I left it in the combine in the back pasture. I'm going to clean it up. I'm a beyond fascinated with having shell shakers, even if I don't dance, it's an area of Choctaw Heritage that I've been reading about. Anyways, yes, I'm going to clean up the turtle shell and bring it home tomorrow.
By the time I finally made it to the pasture the sun was drifting down, I knew I could get at least one mile in.
Did you know this is a very unique water bottle holder? Yes, it is. It's where I put my water bottle and extra layers and occasionally my camera when I'm out for a run. It's very handy.
Old bleached out cow bones.
Just a shot looking down into the creek bed, which is fed by some natural springs somewhere.
A "reflective" shot.
Here you go, I feel obligated to share a barbed wire fence shot. These are a little dark, but I did that on purpose.
So I took a few shots of the sun going down.
Naughty Lassie! Naughty Wren! Running away from me! I had to wait on them to return from their little adventure so we could all go home together.
We finally headed home and my 11 year old kept saying "Mom, look at the red moon." I couldn't see the red moon! I kept looking up and trying to drive, I finally saw this huge moon just over the horizon. What a beautiful moon, the kind that makes people crazy, no doubt.
While the oil refinery was putting on quite a show too!
But it was time to go home, do homework and edit photos. What a nice Sunday walk, perhaps I will get a serious run in soon. But as far as today - it was just a nice day.
The first mistake of the day was going into Best Buy. I'd noticed these lenses when I was buying the flash last month, but I thought they were about $100 more. Anyways, long story short, I thought this lens would be great for indoor shooting especially during the holidays, because zoom lenses don't work very well indoors.
I figure if I can try out the lower end versions of the glass I will know what I want when (and if) I ever can afford to drop a few grand on a nice lens.
Oscar has grown, he also begs for food.
The elixer of life...
Tomorrow and Thursday is not a holiday for me. It's baking. But, I think this lens will be great for food photography.
This is my pretty 1930s light fixture that is above my kitchen sink.
The boots...I'm really tired. I had to play for a few minutes with my new toy. My expectations aren't incredibly high except learning how to use this lens type, just as my telephoto lens is "cheap" by comparison to most.
I'm experimenting with the new flash. The initial training in photography that I went to encouraged us to avoid using the external flash (which is a great thing to know how to do) but in some lighting you can't avoid it. I have this flash because I shot an indoor wedding recently. It was the first time I've used the external flash.
I purchased the flash for this wedding. So, now I've been reading about using flash in photography. Particularly outdoor photography and bounce flash.
I'm so glad I had the flash for the wedding! Now I have it for the holidays and the challenge is to learn how to use it in more situations. I prefer natural lighting, but indoor photography has always been a pain. I also get to see all of my friend's blurry precious moments that they post online. It's such a shame that so many of those moments are marred by bad photography.
I did a family session this week, which I got to play with the flash indoors. But you might check out Summer's blog http://ndnsworld.blogspot.com/
This shot was outside in a front yard, with traffic going by - but you can't tell can you? Photography is deceptive. That's one thing I love about it, it is a convincing lie.
Another recent shot - indoors- in a dining room- because when you are two years old who needs a portrait studio.
Back to the original intent of this post. Writing about the new flash and getting a decent exposure of the subject in addition to not losing the background of the photo. Here I had the kids climb and sit on the fence where the sun had already drifted down below the horizon. You can see everything here but you can't really see the beauty of the sunset. I metered the shot - to be able to get a decent exposure of the kids. They were laughing at me because I was balancing on a four wheeler, and I believe they thought I was about to fall off and hurt myself.
In this shot I focused on the sunset. These two frames were seconds apart.
So here is the shot with the flash on. Now, with more reading I would have turned down the exposure on the flash, so they wouldn't stand out so starkly in comparison, as the kids almost appear photoshopped into the shot.
When I say Native American, what do you picture in your mind? What about American Indian? What about Native American Dancing? What are your expectations? Do you think of the American Indian in the past tense as many schools who continue to perpetuate the stereotype through mascots such as "warriors" or "redskins" or "Indians"? Take a look around your world if you live in North America, take a look at the embedded racism that is in so many aspects of your life. Go shopping, "Faux Native American" fashion is all the rage now. So check out Ha'Stylez dancing their old school hip hop style on OU Campus:
My friend Benny the emcee for the event.
This day's entertainment was brought to you by the Native American Studies Department at the University of Oklahoma!
So are you ready for some "Native American dancing" - or dancing by people who just happen to be Native American?
Dancing in all its forms cannot be excluded from the curriculum of all noble education; dancing with the feet, with ideas, with words, and, need I add that one must also be able to dance with the pen? ~Friedrich Nietzsche
There are short-cuts to happiness, and dancing is one of them. ~Vicki Baum
So much fun to photograph and watch. Of course it's even better to be able to photograph something unique.
Dance first. Think later. It's the natural order. ~Samuel Beckett
Definitely worth your time if you get the chance to watch them...
I don't have a lot to say, but I'm sleepy right now and trying to finish this post. So I will. I have more photos but will share them later.
I believe in opportunity and taking opportunities you are given. I believe if you are given the opportunity to be around, see or hear people who are doing amazing things or have had amazing lives you take the opportunity. If it presents an inconvenience and makes you tired the next day you still have had that opportunity to learn and soak up the wisdom that was offered. You may find that what you learn is not what you expect. You may find your knowledge diverging and intersecting and creating a tangled web of synapse and dendrites which gather together in your mind to create this rich experience called life.
Yesterday evening I made my way to Oklahoma City University, a campus that I had not been to since 1994. Why 1994? The summer between my Junior and Senior year in High School I won a scholarship opportunity to go to a science camp with 15 other kids from Oklahoma. It was a geography camp and we explored "Prairies to Peaks." It was one of those early life changing experiences, to be awarded something competitive and be able to travel throughout Oklahoma, Kansas and Colorado for two weeks. For that I will always appreciate the experience that I had been given. It was an experience where I arrived and found out I was chosen to be one out of over 150 applicants.
To hear N. Scott Momaday speak about his work, and his life. You know when you are in the presence of a star. Not all stars look and sound like Josh Turner, Gary Allan, Sara Evans (I invite you to look at their photos also) not all stars are on a stage with thousands of fans screaming at them. This is N. Scott Momaday, a living legend and a incredible personality. He arrived to a packed house in the middle of downtown Oklahoma City on a Tuesday evening.
N. Scott Momaday is a master of words. He takes and creates with his mastery of the language worlds that you can visit and imagine and feel. He creates images in your mind, sensations and feelings. First a poet, inspired by Emily Dickinson. He spent a substantial amount of his youth in the Pueblos of New Mexico, "I saw things in Jemez, I'll never see again that belong in a world different from my own." Said Momaday, when he spoke of the Pueblos it was captivating, because they hold such a unique position in the world. To live within an ancient culture among a people who still hold those ancient traditions close.
Momaday was speaking of the writer Wilie Morris and how he had once said to him that "You know what I like about the autobiographical narrative? You get to lie a lot." "Why do you write?" "Writing is a passion" "You have fulfilled your destiny, you have been true to yourself."
My friend who I met over four years ago at a Seminar at North Dakota State University drove 300 miles to attend this lecture. I loved seeing her and we had a great day. What an impact this six week seminar sponsored by the National Endowment for the Humanities had in my life! This seminar was one I naturally gravitated to, being a Child of the Great Plains, so I had the opportunity to study as one of the writers who came out of the experience of the Plains. I met Plains Folk, Dr. Tom Isern who led us on a five week geographical exploration of the Northern Plains of the United States and Canada. The opportunity to learn from outstanding educators and to gain a fresh perspective on writing, History and literature.
I appreciate Momaday as a writer, because I was introduced to him in 2008. In 2009, I had another amazing opportunity to take part in a seminar at Stanford University, also shared with a friend from my Fargo experience. I walked down the halls of the University that help shape Momaday as a writer. My children took their first breath in the Indian Hospital where Momaday was born, my grandparents took their last breaths there. The beauty of the Wichita Mountains are the place I run to when I need solace on the worst days. I relate to his stories of the Pueblos because my first year as an educator was spent in an ancient village.
I will end with a part of the "House Made of Dawn," from the novel that won him the Pulitzer prize:
"In the white man's world, language, too- and the way in which the white man thinks of it-- has undergone a process of change. The white man takes such things as words and literatures forgranted, as indeed he must, for nothing in his world is so commonplace. On every side of him there are words by the millions, an unending succession of pamphlets and papers, letters and books, and bills and bulletins, commentaries, and conversations. He has diluted and multiplied the Word, and words have begun to close in upon him. He is sated and insensitive; his regard for language--for the Word itself-- as an instrument of creation has diminished nearly to the point of no return. It may be that he will perish by the word."
This section, to me in 2012 brings to mind the internet. The words that we throw around here every day which are diminished because there are so many of them, constantly. A constant stream of language that saturates our world with the voices of billions who cry out to each other, every day online. Such a timeless passage.
Momaday signing a book. He wrote The Way to Rainy Mountain and he speaks of it in House Made of Dawn
"I followed their ancient way to my Grandmother's grave. Thoush she lived out her long life in the shadow of Rainy Mountain, the immense landscape of the continential interior--all of its seasons and sounds-- lay like the memory in her blood."
This is the Rainy Mountain that Momaday writes of (this image is an early example of my photography). I ramble here on this post, but it is my page, my work, my life. I love the beauty of the Wichita Mountains and I love Momaday's writing because the images he paints when I read his work are just as real as the photographs that I take. I'm often drawn to writers for their ability to conquer the land with their narratives, I stay for the story.
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