Have you ever noticed that lol now looks like a person throwing their arms up as if to say they give up on this conversation? Just me? Okay then. Moving on. Sorting through old photos on a hard drive, I came across a classic example of how just changing where you stand when composing a photo. In this case it was a field trip to Gettysburg Civil War Battlefield. The lighting, the blue sky, and the history surrounding me. Perfect place for a school trip and practicing photography. I took this photo, looked at my screen and realize it would like much better with the stature facing me. So, I…
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What’s wrong with this photo: No, I’m not expecting you to track down my email/phone number/home address and give me your opinion. Nor do I want you to, life is scary enough as it is. Just answer in your head, ok? Or, if you must, write it down somewhere, but this isn’t a test. I know what bother me, what bothers you? This photo wasn’t planned out, although I’ve been eyeing this location as I sped by on the highway for awhile now, always intended to stop when the lighting is good and I have the time. Well, I finally stopped, short on time and iffy on lighting because I…
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Have we ever truly answered why certain things—photos, in this case—appeal to some people and not to others? What makes two individuals look at the same image and notice entirely different details? A play of light, a shape, figures seated in isolation will catch my eye. I can barely raise my camera fast enough to compose the scene and capture that fleeting moment in time. How many times have I uploaded photos into Lightroom—often stumbling across ones I’d forgotten to process (oops)—and spent time tweaking and editing in an attempt to recapture the moment, only to realize that they hold little appeal for others? Yet somehow, the photos I took…
