Author Archives: dkrashb

Save the Cheerleader, Save the World

Posted by dkrashb on

Enthusiasm is the mother of effort, and without it nothing great was ever achieved.

-Ralph Waldo Emerson

 

The epitome of enthusiasm

The epitome of enthusiasm

 

 

A middle school group of girls tosses their batons

A middle school group of girls tosses their batons

Enthusiasm.  E-N-T-H-U-S-I-A-S-M!  What does it spell?  ENTHUSIASM!

I guess it doesn’t make a very catchy cheer.

But, the cheerleader float in the Mainx24 parade certainly had a lot of it.  Even so, if you added up all the enthusiasm of the little girls riding on the float, I’m not sure it would equal the enthusiasm of their fearless leader walking along side.  She led both the girls and the spectators in cheers like:

“You say Merry!”  Yell the cheerleaders as their leader points at crowd with every muscle fiber clearing communicating, “And you will.”

“MERRY!”  Screams the crowd, inspired by the energy.

“I say Christmas!” The cheerleaders shout back and then erupt into a fury of squeals, claps, and other sounds of general merriment.  When they settle down again:

“You say Happy!”

“HAPPY!” return the spectators.

“I say HOLIDAYS!” the cheerleader reply with even more enthusiasm.

I am envious as I watch the woman who leads the group through my lens.  She seems to have endless energy, and its contagious.  I suppose that’s what makes a person a cheerleader.

I was never a cheerleader.  In fact, I never actually considered the possibility.  Perhaps this was because I was already 5’ 7” at a time when some of my friends and most of the boys my age were bragging about being 4’ 6”.

This was at about the age many girls start going to summer cheerleading camps (or whatever they’re called).  I thought more about playing basketball than about cheering on someone else (and I was the 5th grade basketball champ).

Add to that my inability to walk across the room without running into something.  I blamed this on my constantly changing size–as soon as I would figure out where my various appendages ended, they would get longer.

That, of course, doesn’t explain why I am still clumsy, 30-some-odd years since I last grew (well, vertically at least).  Perhaps I gave up on understanding how to predict the space I would need to occupy too early.  As it is, I’m so oblivious to running into things that I can never explain where all my bruises come from.  I occasionally suspect Pat is kicking me when we’re sleeping, but I’ve turned up with dozens of inexplicable bruises when I was traveling without Pat, too.

Perhaps I need my own cheerleader?  They could shout cheers at me like, “Step Back!  Step Back!  The wall’s about to attack!” when I’m about to run into a wall.  Or maybe, “Where’s your brain at?  Are you a maniac?  Bring it back!” just before I run into a small child or trip over Tisen.

Personal Cheerleader.  Why not?

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Getting the Goat

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The Grand Marshall Float

The Grand Marshall Goat

The Grand Marshall Float

The Grand Marshall Float

 

There was a very special grand marshall at the Mainx24 Parade:  Oreo, the goat.  Oreo, a pygmy goat, is a pet.  He belongs to a family who lives in a suburb on the boundary of Chattanooga called East Ridge.

As the story goes, Oreo is more like a dog than a goat.  Unfortunately for Oreo and his family, East Ridge doesn’t allow goats.  The East Ridge City Council took issue with Oreo and, after months of hearings, ruled that Oreo is not an exception.

The struggle for the family to stay together made the local news and really got the goat of many, creating a bit of a local media stir.  The organizers of the Mainx24 event on the South Side invited Oreo to be the grand marshall for the parade.

Ironically, when I googled “chattanooga south side goat,” about half way down the results, Niko’s South Side Grill came up as having goat on the menu.  Fortunately for Oreo, it turned out to be goat cheese.  🙂

By the way, Oreo’s family has said that they will move before they give up the goat.

I think it made the media because writers secretly love opportunities for bad puns.

A Woody

A Woody

Lookouts

Lookouts

Following Oreo, a series of vintage cars went by, including one advertising the local minor league baseball team, the Lookouts.  While there didn’t appear to actually be any Lookout team members in the car (it’s off season), it still reminded me to add getting to one of their games to my list of things to do.

Santa 2x

Santa 2x

Santa came along several times during the parade.  I’m beginning to develop a theory about how he manages to get to all the houses in a single night.  In this series of photos, he was riding a Harley.  I don’t actually see the Harley as contributing to his success at criss-crossing the planet so quickly.

Little Sisters Stalking Santa

Little Sisters Stalking Santa

Santa was wisely followed by a float full of young girls from the Big Sisters program–they were smart to stay close to Santa.

The Duck

The Duck

Next, two of my favorite Chattanoogan vehicles came by.  The first, a genuine WWII Duck.  I’ve had the great pleasure of riding in one of these when the Chattanooga Audubon Society made arrangements with them to transport a group to McClellan Island for a bird walk.  We got the full tour in the process and it was quite fun.

Big City Tour Bus

Big City Tour Bus

The second is the double-decker bus that frequently goes by our place with a tour guide chattering away with the loud speaker echoing in our building.  I like the double-decker bus, none-the-less.  It’s become symbolic of Chattanooga’s character:  big city in a small package with a lot more smiling.

Stroller Brigade

Stroller Brigade

Immediately behind the double-decker bus, there was a brigade of women and the occasional man pushing baby strollers, mostly with babies in them.  I wasn’t sure if they were representing something, but it sure was cute.

It also makes my point:  big city followed by small town, smiles all around.

 

 

 

Dog Craze

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I learned an important lesson about life at the Mainx24 parade this weekend:  people love diversity.  I’ve often thought the opposite–that people tend to be most attracted to those that are most like themselves.  But the most exciting part of the parade and the greatest crowd pleaser was the mass of dogs ranging from the tiniest tea cup to miniature horse.

Diversity is especially crowd pleasing when the extremes are side-by-side.  Witness the image of the Great Danes walking by a Chihuahua riding in a baby stroller.  Who couldn’t love that?

Dogs are fascinating in part because of the wide variety of shapes and sizes they come in.  Of course, having been domesticated and bred by humans for thousands of years, I guess we’ve sort of forced the process.  But compare this to cats, who have also been domesticated for thousands of years.   The range of healthy cats’ weights seems to be about 4-28 pounds (Note:  this is information from the internet, which only allows people to publish accurate information ;-)).

Compare that to dogs who supposedly range from 1.5 pounds to well over 200 pounds.  The 2007 Guinness Book of World Records holder came close to 300 pounds, but that dog was so overweight, it was criminal.  We owned a 225 pound Mastiff, although we trimmed him down to just over 200 pounds to protect his joints as he got older.  He looked slightly on the too slim side at 205.  However, he lived to be 11 (that’s pretty old for a Mastiff) and was still happy to go for walks up until a week before he died.

But, back to my point.  According to Nova, even scientists do not understand exactly why the dog is so variable.  When you think about the differences in size, ears, muzzles, tails, fur, color, feet, athleticism, and personality, there really isn’t any other species that comes in so many varieties.

All I know is that even non-dog people are fascinated by the variability of dogs.  And there’s no better way to tap into that fascination than to get about 100 dogs to walk down the street together wearing silly costumes in a parade.

Photographically speaking, it was sheer chaos.  There were so many people and dogs moving around, it was hard to see a shot, let alone get one.

About 5 dog rescues were there walking adoptable dogs side-by-side with the pampered pets of owners recruited by the Dogood organization of Chattanooga.  It wasn’t clear if any of the dogs actually knew how to walk on a leash–they were all so busy checking out each other, the crowd, the remnants of tossed candy (which was an improvement over the occasional “treat” left behind by the horses) that they seemed to forget they were on a leash.

I was impressed that even with the chaos of tangled leashes, the walkers all managed to stay on their feet and keep the dogs moving down the street.

Parade Shooting

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If there’s one thing I’m learning about photography, each shoot is different and presents unique challenges from the one before.  In some ways, it reminds me of when I went through what I’ll call “my triathlon phase.”

I thought I would be able to do a triathlon and look at my times and compare them to the previous triathlon to see if I’d improved.  In reality, there were so many variables from one event to the next that there was never a good comparison.

Unlike triathlons, I don’t spend hours every day training only to be left exhausted, run down, and incredibly sore.  Perhaps this is why I don’t feel so discouraged when I come away from a shoot and feel like I’ve backtracked instead of making progress?

Shooting the Mainx24 Parade presented several challenges.  First, the parade started at 11AM on a wonderfully sunny day just when the light was getting really hard and bright.  Adding to the challenge, the parade participants marched with the light mostly behind them.

In addition, a parade is somewhere between a portrait shoot and an action shoot–the people are moving at such an incredibly slow speed that you think you have plenty of time.  Yet, with each step forward, the light changes, the people rearrange and get closer–just when you think you’ve figured it out, they have their backs to you.

To further complicate things, I’d decided to try shooting with two cameras for the first time.  I had my 70-200mm on my trusty old 40D and my 24-70mm on my 5D Mark III.  I haven’t shot with my 40D in so long that I had to get out my glasses to find the on button!

I took a tripod to simplify dealing with two cameras.  I set up my 5D on the tripod–I would likely have knocked myself unconscious in front of an oncoming horse if I were juggling two cameras.

I found the tripod had an additional advantage.  It allowed me to create a space to shoot in that most people respected–they tried to stay out of my shots for the most part.  Of course, when candy was being thrown to the children, all bets were off.

However, it was also restrictive and unnecessary give the shutter speeds I was shooting at.  On the flip side, I did pop the camera off the tripod from time to time, so it wasn’t like I had to use it.  I’m on the fence as to whether its advantages outweighed the difficulties.

The images in today’s gallery were all shot with the 40D.  I probably should have put it on the tripod and panned with people.  MIght have made for some better images.

In the end, this was not a banner day.  But, it was fun and I met a couple of other photographers in the process.

No Rain on This Parade

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Who doesn’t love a parade?  With the possible exception of the screaming fire engine sirens (which we hear more than enough of at our place and don’t need to go out to hear), it’s pretty tough to have a bad parade.  All you need are some animals, a band or two, and smiling kids and you’re set.

Today, the first festival of the Christmas season in Chattanooga took place.  It’s called Mainx24 because it’s focused on trying to make Chattanooga a 24-hour city.

I don’t really see that happening this decade, but it’s nice that it happens once a year.  Plus, it’s a celebration of the city’s South side, which is a neighborhood in transition.

Having witnessed the transition of some of the neighborhoods in Columbus that were perceived as the “worst” into hot spots of historical preservation, celebration of the arts, and community gathering, I have a special fondness for transition.

A few decades ago, my mother ran a preschool in one such neighborhood before its transition began.  On days when I didn’t have school but she did, I would go with her and “help.”

The neighborhood seemed slightly terrifying to me at that time.  It was full of old, victorian homes with boarded up windows that threatened to throw pieces of themselves at me if I ventured too close.  Not that I wandered far–there were always people wandering the streets that, in my innocence, seemed threatening.  In retrospect, I would guess they were harmless homeless people, but I had never actually seen homeless people before then.  Sometimes they stumbled around, obviously drunk.  I had also never seen drunk people, so I had no idea why they behaved oddly.

Decrepit historical houses were purchased by the city and sold for $1 to buyers who could demonstrate their ability to restore them.  It was an amazingly successful project.  That same neighborhood is now known as Victorian Village and is one of the more expensive parts of Columbus to live in.

The restoration of this area became contagious.  Soon, the near-by neighborhood now known as the Short North started changing.  The buildings facing High St were gradually restored and turned into trendy art galleries, restaurants, music venues, and shops.  New buildings in historical styles started to appear with high-end apartments and condos.

The two areas met in the middle, although there is still a mix of the unrestored (and affordable) with the beautifully appointed, fully restored historical mansions.

Chattanooga’s South Side doesn’t seem to have too many mansions.  It was mostly an industrial area before its transition began.  But from the size of the crowd drawn to today’s festival, it’s definitely a place people want to be.

I think adopting New Orleans-parade tradition in tossing candy (and even the occasional beads) to children was a brilliant way to guarantee all the kids will be clamoring to come back again next year.

Chasing the Sun

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I have had many romantic notions about the sun in my time.  What sounds more romantic than hanging out on a beach watching the sunset?  Or watching the sunset from the top of Mauna Kea on the Big Island of Hawaii?  Or staying up all night and watching the sunrise together?

The truth is, watching sunset on the beach caused one of the worst allergic reactions I’ve ever had–never did figure out what I sat on.  Standing on Mauna Kea to watch the sunset caused light headedness and near hypothermia.  And as for staying up all night to watch the sunrise, well, I haven’t actually managed to stay up all night since I was in my 20’s.  Even then, by the time the sun was rising, I was nodding off.

Don’t get me wrong, I have no regrets.  The beach sunset in San Diego was the first time I’d watched the sunset from the West coast.  We sat on a collection of rocks for a half an hour while the sun made its descent, slowly melting into the ocean at the end of its journey.  In the foreground, a collection of sea lions barked a chorus to accompany the show.

As for Mauna Kea, the clouds sank below where we were standing.  We were like the gods of Mt Olympus watching the sun follow the clouds until it disappeared beneath them.  And, the tour that took us there provided parkas, so we weren’t really at risk of freezing to death even in the blistering winds that blew up the mountain at impressive speeds.

And the last time I watched the sunrise after staying up all night, I was at Daytona Beach on the East coast, watching the sun rise out of the water like a brilliant breeching whale.

These days, I’m shooting sunrise and sunset only when I happen to notice something interesting and I happen to have my camera handy.  This is mainly because when I actually plan to shoot sunrise or sunset, I come home with about 1000 images that all look virtually the same.  Then I spend hours comparing and deleting.  It’s a time drain.

But maybe that doesn’t make them less romantic?  After all, I took the shot of the sunset over the glass bridge when Pat and I were strolling around downtown Chattanooga holding hands, exploring our new city shortly after moving here.  The image of sunrise over Market St was taken during a similar early morning walk along the riverfront.

Perhaps I’ve started taking the sun for granted.  There was a time not so long ago when seeing the sun was a real treat, regardless where it was in the sky.  In my home town, there are only 5 sunny days a year.  I think that’s the average per week in Chattanooga.

Maybe that’s why I’ve once again ended up with so many photos of the sun?

Bright Star

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Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art–
Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night
And watching, with eternal lids apart,
Like nature’s patient, sleepless Eremite,
The moving waters at their priestlike task
Of pure ablution round earth’s human shores,
Or gazing on the new soft-fallen mask
Of snow upon the mountains and the moors–
No–yet still stedfast, still unchangeable,
Pillow’d upon my fair love’s ripening breast,
To feel for ever its soft fall and swell,
Awake for ever in a sweet unrest,
Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath,
And so live ever–or else swoon to death.

-John Keats

Last night, Tisen started sticking his head under my mouse-hand, making it impossible to work.  I eventually took the hint and got his leash.

As we entered the park, I looked East and saw a bright glow coming from the ridge.  “Crap!” I said aloud, and then looked to see if anyone heard me.  Saved from embarrassment by solitude, I moved Tisen into a trot thinking we could make it around our 2/3 mile loop in time for the moonrise.

I told myself I was being foolish–the moonrise lasts only a few minutes.  As we made our way down the path, I looked over my shoulder to see if we were missing it.  The light glowed strongly through the trees in the park.  Once again, I said, “Crap!” but this time, there was a man walking behind us.  I might have blushed a little.

I tried to rush Tisen, but this resulted only in him pausing mid-sniff to give me a perplexed look.  When we made it around the next corner, I realized the glowing light I saw through the trees was a well-lit building.  There was hope!

When at last we got back to where I could see the ridge, the glow I had spotted on the way out remained unchanged.  I squinted and saw it was actually a billboard on the side of the hill.

I pulled out my phone and checked the time.  It was only 6:32.  The moon rose at 5:44PM officially the night before . . . the last time I shot the moon rising behind the ridge, it didn’t appear until 15-20 minutes after the official moonrise time . . . the moon usually rises about 40 minutes later each night than the night before . . . there was hope!

I had not missed the moonrise at all.  Perhaps Keats understood the moon better than Juliet–steadfast in its predictability.

Arriving on our rooftop, a glow started to appear behind the ridge.  I positioned the top of the ridge low in the frame to cut out a brightly lit window in a house below the ridge.  Not liking the composition, I reframed including the window and shot again.  As I check the image through my loupe, I realize it was not a window I was seeing at all–it was the moon!  I nearly swooned to death.

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Circled Orb

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O, swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon,
That monthly changes in her circled orb,
Lest that thy love prove likewise variable.

-Juliet, Romeo and Juliet

The full moon rose at 5:44 in Chattanooga tonight.  I was still working.  I failed to realize tonight was the full moon until well after 7PM.  I took Tisen for a walk and looked up.  Not only was the moon putting on quite a display, but Jupiter was there as if it were orbiting the moon.

As I shot the full moon in a completely clear sky, I thought about words of wisdom shared with me by another photographer about a year ago, although it seems more like a decade now.  He told me not to bother to shoot the full moon.  It turns into a flat rock in photos when it’s full.

Fascinated by the full moon as a subject, I undertook shooting the moonrise as often as possible so I could shoot the full moon as it clears the horizon.  I’ve found this adds an interesting dynamic to the moon.  Plus, the moon pretty much gets overexposed in order to preserve the other objects of the photo, so you get a ball of fire instead of a flat rock.

Tonight, I am too late.  But it’s the last full moon of the 2012 and Jupiter is there beside it.  So, I shoot it anyway.  Unfortunately, Jupiter looks far more impressive in person than on “film.”  The moon-rock effect is in full force, although I tried some additional adjustments in Aperture to try to make it more interesting.

I’ve supplemented the gallery with past shots of the moon.  You can see how the crescent moon looks far more 3-dimensional.  But I am still drawn to the full moon.

In the meantime, one of my friends posted a comment, “Oh!  There’s a full moon!  That explains everything!”  I have often thought I had more energy and anxiety during the full moon.  But, a quick search through some of the research available online doesn’t offer any proof that the full moon has any effect on our behavior at all.

I try to remember the explanation I once heard about why the full moon affects people’s behavior.  I recall being told that the full moon had an effect on the gravitational pull, but my brief search tells me that the increased gravitational pull of the moon aligning with the sun happens at new moon, not full moon.

If only I could find an explanation for why I feel like howling.

Maybe Juliet was onto something.  Maybe it’s the frustration of the inconstant moon changing shape, rising late, and appearing in unexpected places that makes me want to howl.  Especially when I realize I’ve missed moonrise.

Oddly, Tisen doesn’t seem to feel compelled to howl at all.  Maybe he doesn’t notice the inconstant moon?

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Up Close and Personal

Posted by dkrashb on

I have decided I need to use my flash a lot.  Nothing fancy.  Just put it on the camera and use it so I can get used to what it looks like on camera.  Then, maybe I’ll be better able to see the differences when I take it off camera.

But what to shoot now that I’ve decided to undertake this learning process?  Tisen looks mighty relaxed laying on a comforter on the couch.  And he did just get a brand new hat from Twiggy’s mom.  Plus, he’s a little bored now that Twiggy has gone home.

I wrap a snoot around the flash and decide to start with capturing him in his hat.  I like the head-on image the best even though the flash catches the haze of blue in his eyes, probably indicating cataracts.

Then, I see my down jacket next to him on the sofa and decide to see what happens when I take a macro shot with my flash.  The snoot projects the light to the background, leaving the jacket in the foreground unlit.  When I look at the shot on the big screen, I’m surprised to discover the fabric has a distinct pattern.  I’d always thought it was perfectly smooth.

Then I decide to go macro on Tisen.  Poor guy.  I would feel sorry for him, but he barely moved once I took his hat off, seeming perfectly content to model for his crazy mom with the big black camera that kept flashing at him.

It’s interesting to see the parts of a dog up close.  For one thing, he’s dirty than I thought he was!  His little pig ears always makes me laugh.  When he walks, the tip bounces up and down, flopped over at about the halfway point.

I try to shoot his tail, another source of a smile.  He wags enthusiastically when we go for walks.  People pass us on the street and say, “Now that’s a happy dog!” as he goes by with a toy in his mouth and his tail keeping a steady beat.  But tonight no shot of his tail is to be had.  It’s the one part he keeps tucked underneath and I don’t want to risk annoying him to the point where he gets up and lies on his bed under the desk.

I do manage to shoot both sides of his face, but the white side keeps blowing out with the flash.  The black side makes for a creepy close up of his eye.  He stares at me, blinking from the flash.  I wonder what he thinks I’m doing to him.

The poor guy is still struggling with allergies and hot spots.  We’ve changed his diet again; it seems he’s allergic to the turkey we’ve been feeding him.  I’m about to give up and put him on antibiotics again.  It’s hard to wait to see if he will heal on his own when it’s obvious he’s uncomfortable.

Huh.

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After a long first day back from a week’s vacation, I look up from my work and see it’s pitch dark both inside and out.  I look at the clock.  It’s 7PM.  Rain streaks the glass on the windows.  I pause long enough to wonder how long it’s been dark and raining without me noticing.

I realize I haven’t thawed Tisen’s dinner yet.  I dump some frozen nuggets into his bowl and set them out to thaw.  Twiggy, visiting for a few days, dances at my feet, her butt wiggling back and forth with the force of her wag.  Tisen jumps at me.  Both are impatient to go out.

I put Tisen’s rain jacket on (he hates to walk in the rain) but he won’t hold still while I zip it.  After the 3rd attempt, Tisen is zipped in and I grab the leashes, checking the poop bag holder to make sure there are at least 2 bags.  I grab an extra roll just in case.  Then, I head out into the dark leaning back against the leashes like a water skier.

As we walk around the park, I think of what I want to shoot tonight.  I decide I should take advantage of the rain and see if I can capture rain drops.  This is something I have failed at so many times that I have no problem failing once more.

But this time, I am armed with a flash.

Back home, full of optimism, I walk out onto the balcony, attach the flash, position a reflective wrap to bounce the flash, find something to focus on, and take a test shot.  Nothing.

I decide it’s not raining hard enough and sit down to wait.  My glass of wine makes the time pass.  The rain picks up and I try again.  I try focusing close and far.  Repositioning the reflective wrap and shooting without it.  I get a few shots that have some white dots in them.  Nothing very exciting.

I try another round, this time, including out-of-focus street lights to add a background.  I manage to get a few more dots and I kind of like the blurred balls of colored light.  Not exactly what I was going for, though.

The rain slows and I look for something else interesting to try.  I decide to try panning with passing cars to see what I get.  This is just good fun.  Don’t ask me why I have so much fun creating completely bizarre images that really don’t work well, but I do.  I particularly like the one shot of the car crossing the Market Street bridge off in the distance.  Maybe it’s the blurred Christmas lights in the foreground that I like so much?

I am reminded of a photography workshop where the instructor talked about how at least one thing must be in focus for a shot to work.  He’s probably right.