Blurring Lines

Tisen cuddles on the couch with Mr. Beaver while I’m on a conference call.  I’ve downloaded a new app on my iPhone and this is the perfect opportunity to give it a try.  It’s an HDR photo app.  HDR stands for High Dynamic Range and refers to a process where you take multiple photos and combine them into one.  That’s about all I know about it so far.

The iPhone app takes two photos, the first exposed for the darkest part of the picture and the second exposed for the lightest part of the photo.  Then, it magically combines them into one photo that is exposed properly for both extremes.  Getting Tisen exposed properly is difficult to do with a single shot.

The iPhoto app has some disadvantages.  First, it only uses two photos.  More sophisticated software allows you to use many images, getting the optimal exposure for many different levels of light.  Second, it’s very difficult to hold the iPhone still enough to not cause fuzz because you can’t move between the two shots for them to combine properly.  Finally, the app takes a long time, so if you have a subject that doesn’t hold perfectly still (like Tisen), more fuzz will be introduced.  In the photo gallery, the first image is underexposed, the second is overexposed, and the third is the fuzzy combination of the two.  It’s fun.

This little experiment motivated me to take my camera and tripod on my evening walk with Tisen, finally getting down to the river to shoot the sunset.  Tisen is amazingly patient while I take groups of 3 photos, using the bracketing feature on my camera so there is 4x more light in each successive shot.  We hang out on a pier over the river for 45 minutes watching the light fade, Tisen occasionally barking at other dogs, but mostly just hanging out.

I try a software program called Photomatix to create the HDR photos.  Some people say that HDR photos look more like what we see with our eyes.  While I like a lot of HDR photos, I don’t agree they look like what we see with our eyes.  It’s more like what you see when you look through your sunglasses at the sky and then take them off to look at the ground, but all in the same view.

As I look at the images, I can’t help but pick the darkest ones.  The ones that leave the black clipped and the land in silhouette–I’m pretty sure I’m missing the point of HDR.

Except for one.  The final photo I like in black and white.  But it’s right on the verge of “fake.”  I don’t know what that means, really.  But where is the line between being a photographer and being someone who knows how to use a software program?    And is one better than the other?  For me, it’s not just the combined photo that gets a little blurry.  Perhaps I am just getting old and clinging to out-dated thinking.

Lazy Sunday

At 5:30AM my alarm goes off.  I’m relieved it’s not for me, but for Pat.  I pull the covers up higher over my shoulders, snuggle down and go back to sleep.  Tisen jumps onto the bed at some point and, instead of curling up at my feet, pushes his way under the blankets from the top of the bed.  I’m too sleepy to argue and Tisen cuddles in next to me.

I sleep and wake, sleep and wake for a while.  I roll over to one side, then back to the other.  Eventually, Tisen gets tired of my restlessness and moves to his bed on the floor.  I sleep soundly for a least a half an hour with the bed to myself.  When I finally check the time, I’m shocked to discover it’s 9:30AM.  I can’t remember the last time I slept that late, but I’m not sure it was in this millennium.

After a quick and easy breakfast for both Tisen and me, I head for the couch where Tisen curls up next to me once more.  Tisen brings Minnie Teddy with him, looking even more adorable than usual.

It’s a rainy Sunday and Pat is out of town–that means one thing:  watching Glee.  When Tisen starts snoring so loudly I have to turn up the volume to hear, I get out my iPhone and try to take a video.  However, it beeps and rouses Tisen just enough to stop his snoring, so I content myself with still shots.

We spend the entire morning pretty much immobile on the couch.  Eventually, I get  myself cleaned up and we go for a walk in the rain.  A large hawk, probably a Red-tailed, sits perched on the solar collector over the wetland.  I try to get a shot with my iPhone.  This is not wildly successful.

I do run out and do some productive things for a bit, but at the end of the day I find myself wondering, “What on earth am I going to write about for my blog?”  I’ve been watching an online class on photography on a site a friend turned me onto and I think about the shots I’ve taken with my iPhone today.  In the unit on the camera, the instructor explains the difference between sensors in point-and-shoots vs DSLR cameras.  While I’ve learned this before, he explained it more clearly.  I now know I should give up on night shots with my iPhone, for example.

This inspired me to look for something to shoot with my DSLR for my daily post.  I look out the window and the clouds are doing some interesting things as the sun prepares to set.  The wind is picking up and the clouds are moving fast.  I decide to forego switching lens and to shoot with the 100mm lens that’s still on my camera from Friday.  I’m beginning to think my 100mm lens is all I really need.

Blowing Out the Whites

Once again, my intention to shoot in the park goes by the way side.  I plan to shoot after walking Tisen.  There’s a new sculpture in the park that lights up at night.  They installed a solar collector along with it–it collects sunlight all day and then powers the lights in the sculpture at night.  Add that to the list of things I love about Chattanooga.

As Tisen and I cross the street, I see a tripod on top of the “sledding” hill.  A young guy is sitting on the ground next to the tripod, presumably waiting for the sun to set.  The clouds are in perfect shape and position to create a really great shot if the sun will just hit them right.  I’m with the kid that he should wait to see if it gets more interesting as the sun sets.  It doesn’t look too promising, though.

When I return home, Pat is also home and is adjusting our audio setup.  We’ve been struggling with hearing our TV.  This is not an age issue (yet).  It’s an acoustics issue.  We have a pair of old Bose speakers designed to bounce sound off walls in square rooms.  Since our room is not square but wide open with lots of hard surfaces like a metal ceiling and concrete floor, the sound goes everywhere except towards us.  If I go to bed before Pat, the TV sounds like it’s blasting into my ears in the bedroom while Pat struggles to hear from the couch.  So, we are reverting to a couple of small satellite speakers we had in storage to see if we can better direct the sound.  Pat is now on the floor trying to figure out how to set the receiver.

I go around to the other side to see if I can help and Tisen squeezes his way underneath Pat, wiggling his way up under his chest, and then starts growling.  We both stare at him and roll our eyes.  The shelter warned us that he’s growly but he just seems to be talking.  I suspect he doesn’t like that he isn’t between me and Pat–he’s gotten quite possessive of me–but it’s funny that he put himself where he is and now he’s grumbling about it.  I guess that’s not so different from us two-legged folks.

After the speaker adjustments, Pat wants me to help with some software he needs to learn how to use for work.  He wants to create a file for a CNC machine to carve a logo.  Logo photography is becoming a trend for me!

I shoot his logo for him, but have trouble removing the paper from the shot cleanly.  I think I am going to have to reshoot the logo so that it’s so overexposed, the white is completely blown out.  It’s funny when I think about all the times I was trying to avoid blowing out the whites.  Sort of ironic.  Sounds like a song title:  Blowing Out the Whites.

Up Tight and Extended

Tonight, I get out a new toy I’ve been dying to play with.  Extension tubes.  For my non-photographer readers, these make it possible to focus with the lens much closer to the subject, resulting in really up-close photos.

As I start to set up to see what kind of macro shots I can get with a 36mm extension tube on my 100mm macro lens, my favorite model strikes a pose on the couch, cuddling Mr. Beaver.  I decide to see if I can grab a couple shots of Tisen before I switch lenses.

Of course, when I position a light and line up the camera, he jumps up and joins me on my side of the camera.  I coax him back to the couch by sitting down.  However, I cleverly brought the remote with me (mainly because I’d forgotten it was in my pocket) and confuse the heck out of Tisen (and probably Mr. Beaver, too) when the camera clicks but I haven’t moved.

Surprisingly, a bunch of things align that don’t usually work out–the camera is focused on the correct part of the couch, the depth of field is decent, and I am cut out of the frame.  All the things I look for in a picture of my dog.  🙂

Of course, I don’t know if the pictures are in focus or if Tisen is even in the frame because I’m sitting on the couch.  So, I sneak away to see if I can get Tisen to stay on the couch while I check the settings.  Mr. Beaver doesn’t seem to notice I’ve gotten up, but Tisen watches intently to make sure I’m not going far without him.

Eventually, my husband complains I’m blinding him with the light and I return to setting up for macro shooting.  About the time I get the extension tube on, the lens attached, the tripod readjusted to floor height, and the light angled to light the area of the floor under the lens, I realize I don’t have a subject.

I look around the room in desperation.  I remember some really cool shots I saw at a macro workshop I went to last month.  The instructor had set up a clear glass pan suspended above colored wrapping paper and mixed oil and water in the pan.

Since I can’t find a glass dish, don’t have anything to suspend a dish, and don’t have any wrapping paper, I opt for a small, fake crystal dish with a tiny bit of water and a drop of sesame oil set on top of an area rug.

I learn several things from this experiment.  First, in spite of having vacuumed only an hour earlier, there is a lot of dog hair in the rug!  Second, the shots with the oil layer in focus are the least interesting.  In spite of the dog hair, I like being able to see all the way through the glass.  Perhaps I should have tried on a different background.

The Singing Towhee

I sit on the balcony and watch cars roll by.  It’s been a while since I’ve sat out here with my morning coffee–I am reminded of when we first arrived in Chattanooga 5 1/2 months ago.  Although, it was August then and I only sat on the balcony before sunrise–it got much too hot once the sun was up.

Earlier this morning, Tisen and I walked through the park listening to birds who clearly felt it was spring.  I believe it was just two nights ago there was a winter weather warning.  I listen to an Eastern Towhee and realize I’ve never heard one sing before–well, at least not when I knew that’s what I was hearing.  In fact, seeing an Eastern Towhee was always a rare event for me.  When I check the range map, I learn that they are present year round and this is not a harbinger of spring.  However, the urgency and vigor of his song competing with the robins’ probably is.

Our walk is uneventful, but when we return home, Tisen cannot wait to get off his leash and prance into the living room.  He does his playful prance that involves throwing limbs in directions it doesn’t seem like they should go.  I think he’s excited to see his daddy, but it turns out it’s Mr. Beaver he’s so excited to reunite with.

He and Mr. Beaver curl up on the couch.  Since my camera is still sitting on the tripod, I figure I might as well take a few shots, although I don’t bother to change the lens.  And, since I have my 17-55mm lens on the camera, I might as well go out on the balcony and see if the light is doing anything interesting to the view.  The city is shrouded in a slight mist this morning–the sun casting long shadows as it rises above the horizon.  In the sky above, a waning moon hangs mid-sky, too far from anything to get a decent shot with a my wide angle lens.

One thing is obvious–it’s going to be a beautiful sunny day.  Or at least morning.  I plop myself down on a balcony chair to write wearing my pajamas and no jacket and feel sorry for all the people below me in their cars who had to get up, get showered and into office clothes and are now on their commute to the office.

Of course, maybe they’ll have move fun at the office than I will have working from my isolated home office.  There is something about working from home that can make a person a little stir crazy.  I catch myself talking to Tisen more and more often.  He hasn’t answered yet, so I think I’m OK.  But perhaps it’s the fact that I don’t see other people all day that makes me notice things like the song of the Towhee?

Freezing Time

We had a winter weather warning last night.  Perhaps it did get dangerous last night when I was sound asleep, but when I got up this morning, it just looked like another rainy day.  Then, I realize I have to go out in this rainy day.

Is it wrong that I long for snow whenever it rains in the winter?  Wouldn’t everyone rather have the landscape blanketed in the fluffy white stuff than to duck in and out of overhangs trying to keep their hair dry?

I decide that it must be miserably cold in the rain and that this may be my only opportunity wear real winter garb:  a Patagonia down “sweater” (still don’t get why they call them that) with my North Face tri-climate shell.  I also pull my rain pants on over the fleece pants I wore to bed last night (I rarely bother to change out of my “pajamas” before walking Tisen in the morning; good thing I sleep in hiking clothes).

I look a bit, well, shall we say, more eccentric than usual?

It’s not really that cold out.  Even so, Tisen is not enthusiastic about the rain–thankfully he does not refuse to out in it like some dogs.  He does, however, walk the minimum distance required for him to complete his business and then immediately turns back towards home.  In spite of the short walk, I am starting to sweat by the time we return, but I can’t resist taking a quick self-portrait while all the water is still beading on my jacket.  Perhaps “more eccentric” was too kind?

I look out the window and see the magical effect of the street light on the pouring rain.  I love how you can’t see that it’s raining except in that one, tiny patch of light directly under the street light when it’s still dark out.  I decide to try to shoot the rain in the street light.  I setup my tripod on the balcony and get ready to shoot.

First, I realize that the slow shutter speed required for the lighting conditions prevents me from capturing the rain drops.  I need a fast shutter for the individual drops to show up–as it is, they disappear into a barely perceivable mist.

Then, my ADD kicks in (I don’t really have ADD, but I’ve been feeling left out) and I find myself distracted by the long streaks of light captured as cars drive through the frame.  This is one of the effects of photography that I know I shouldn’t like, but I just get so mesmerized by it.  Despite the fact that when I look at the photos later, I mostly think they look like a cliche, I can’t stop myself from taking them.  There is something inherently fun about shifting reality by perceiving the passage of time from the perspective of an open shutter.  How else can we see the passage of time frozen in a single frame?

The Etiquette of Dog Flatulence

I took Tisen to the vet.  He was due for heartworm medicine and given the number of mosquitos that have been active, I figured it’s not safe to skip heartworm in the winter like we used to in Columbus.

He weighed in at 60 pounds, but the vet thought he still looked like he was on the thin side.  He’s gained 20 pounds since he first arrived at the McKamey Animal Center.  1/3 of his total body weight.  I wonder what I would look like I lost 1/3 of my total body weight?  That’s rhetorical.

Apparently the bald patches in his fur are due to a severe allergy to fleas.  Although his hair is growing back and we’ve seen no sign of fleas, the vet encourages me to try a flea treatment that is a bacteria taken orally.

I give him the “test” pill with his dinner Friday night.

He does not exhibit any allergic reaction, but by Saturday morning, he seems to be suffering from excessive flatulence.  Well, at least he has excessive flatulence–not sure he’s suffering as much as we are.

Of course, this is the day I am having a guest.  What exactly is proper etiquette when your dog is passing gas silently, but so lethally that it makes your eyes water?  Do you say, “Oh my, Tisen, you’re really stinky today!”

I think about an article by Miss Manners on this topic.  As I recall, she felt because a polite person would, of course, never pass gas, there was no reason to excuse one’s self because it simply didn’t happen.  Does this rule apply to dogs?

I eventually am so distracted by his stench, I have to say something.  I end up telling this story:  When I first started working from home many years ago, I didn’t have a desk.  So, I would sit in a recliner with my laptop in my lap and a speaker phone further down on my legs, which were propped up on the foot rest.  Our Mastiff, Bogart, liked to come over and sit in my lap from time to time.  He would walk up, swing his rear around in a large arc, and then plop his butt down on my lap while all 4 feet were still on the floor.

On this particular occasion, I was on the speaker phone on a call with 12 people.  When Bogart swung his rear around, he paused about 6 inches above the speaker phone.  Then, he passed gas for at least 10 seconds with reverberation audible in the next room.

The longest silence on a conference call I’ve ever experienced followed.  Since I didn’t think “It was the dog” was going to fly, I remained silent and hoped no one knew it was my phone.

I wonder what Miss Manners would say about that?

Today, I am back to using the iPhone to snap a few shots of Tisen curled up next to my lap, still stinking up the room.

Winter After All

Apparently I am all-powerful.  I wished for winter, and winter was delivered.  Is it too late to un-wish?

I passed a clump of blooming daffodils yesterday, I suppose they are not happy with me and my wish for winter, either.  The temperature started dropping yesterday, but today it was in the “bitterly cold” range.  Or, at least compared to the near 70 degree temperatures we had last week it felt bitterly cold.  There was a lot of snow in the air, although none on the ground.  For a while, the flakes were large and fluffy looking.

It was cold enough I was glad we decided not to go hang gliding today.  That is the offshoot of me wishing for winter and having my wish granted–we will not hang glide this weekend.

Today, it was probably a good thing.  I agreed to shoot the hand-carved plague S.O.A.R uses for its logo so they could have a high quality image of it to use for printing.  Since it was easier to shoot at our place with my lighting and equipment, Dale came to me.

This was a milestone occasion for me (although I didn’t tell her).  Dale was our first in-town guest since we moved to Chattanooga.  I spend the morning cleaning and rearranging, although only partly because she was coming.  We needed to rearrange anyway and when I rearrange, I have to clean because I always uncover something icky in the process.

About a half an hour before I expect Dale, I realize I have absolutely nothing edible to offer her.  As I contemplated trying to fancy up the two handfuls of raw almonds left in the cupboard or heating up some tomato soup,  I get a text from Pat telling me he is on his way with snacks for us.  No wonder I married this man!

I set up my tripod and diffused light in the middle of the living room.  I have my long lens on the camera, but I wait until Dale arrives to choose a lens.  I end up using my wide angle lens because the plague is large.  For whatever reason, autofocus is confused into believing the image is in focus when it isn’t.  My first set of shots are all a big blur.  I switch to manual focus and get much sharper images.

Another milestone, I use the feature on my tripod that allows spreading the legs wide to get the camera closer to the ground for the first time.  The images turn out pretty good.  I do some cropping and cut out the yoga blanket background just to see if it looks better on white.

After doing some photo editing, I discover I’ve left the diffused light on.  It must be generating heat because Tisen decides to lay on the floor under the light.  I can’t resist moving in and shooting him from above just like the logo.  Tisen really wasn’t meant to be shot from above, however.

February?

It’s February, right?  I’m prone to confusion on these things, sometimes mistaking Friday for Monday, or, far worse, mistaking Monday for Friday.  On the rare occasions when I still write a check, I often have to ask someone for the date, but I don’t usually mix up which month we’re in.

This year, I have to double check.  The weather feels like April and sometimes even May (in Columbus) but when I look out the window, I see a giant Christmas tree and holiday tinted lights on what are normally golden fixtures.  I suppose if I average December and April, I get to February, so maybe that’s how I can keep track.

I don’t mean to be snide–I still like to believe with childlike naiveté that it’s possible to keep the Christmas spirit alive all year–but I tend to think of the trappings of Christmas like trees and lights and giant blow-up Santas as not having so much to do with the Christmas spirit.  They do, however, take a lot of extra electricity.

I find myself wondering why this town that prides itself on cleaning up its river and developing in environmentally friendly ways supports keeping this all-electric decoration going for nearly 2 months after Christmas.  I wonder exactly when they will turn off the Christmas tree?

It’s actually not a tree at all.  It’s really many strands of lights hung in the shape of a Christmas tree.  Which I like better.  I feel bad when I see a tree that will die soon.  The lights may be killing thousands of trees via strip-mining for coal, but it’s kind of like buying chicken free of feathers, blood, beaks, and feet and all neatly packaged in cellophane.  It allows me the fantasy I’m not responsible for the death of a chicken.  Similarly, the lights-only tree allows me to fantasize I’m not responsible for the death of a tree.

It’s funny how the removal of responsibility allows us to walk away from things, to think “they” should do something about that.  Sometimes, I just don’t know what to do.  Other times, I feel like it’s not my place.  But a lot of the time, I simply fail to do what I believe is right because I don’t want to be the nay-sayer–the pain in the rear who always complicates things.

What is that quote?  “All that is necessary for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing.”  Apparently it’s a fake quote.  Regardless of whether Burke said it or not, the meaning rings true.  I would not, however, argue that leaving Christmas lights on constitutes the triumph of evil.

In lieu of civic action, I decide I will shoot these remaining Christmas lights from our balcony.  They are approximately a 1/2 mile away on the far side of the river.  I shoot with my 100-400mm lens with the 1.4x extender on it (left over from trying to get a shot of the moon several nights ago).

Eating Virtual Space

I mentioned before that I am volunteering to help organize a fund raising event for S.O.A.R.  Well, I decided to donate a matted and framed photo for the silent auction.  It seemed like a simple enough thing to do.  After all, I have thousands of photos, a handful of ones I actually like, and the matting and framing part can be taken care of inexpensively.

But, today, I spent time culling out the handful of photos I would consider hanging on my wall.  Then, I pulled in the few that were of birds (since S.O.A.R. is all about birds) and a couple from hang gliding.  It’s a difficult thing to judge.  First, I have to step back and see photos the way normal people see photos.  It’s hard.

I find myself noticing when the rule of thirds hasn’t been applied and trying to decide if it works anyway.  Then I notice when bits of things in the foreground have popped into the frame when I’d rather they weren’t there.  Then I try to decide if the color looks off or if it’s just my imagination.  In the end, I’m down to 16 photos I will put in front of Dale, the woman running the show, to see if she thinks any of them will inspire bids.  If not, we can always make it a raffle item.

The process of filtering through the past 8 months of photos (thank goodness I stuck to the Chattanooga theme–otherwise I’d be going through 9 years of photos!) was an interesting one.  First, I realize how little time I’ve actually spent doing wildlife photography, supposedly my preferred form of the art.  Second, I realized how I don’t like to choose.  I end up with collections of extremely similar photos where the lighting is slightly different and the angle might change just a hair, but I can’t come to a conclusion as to which one I like better.

I have gotten quite strict with myself on that point.  I am trying to limit the number of photos I keep.  Given that most of my pictures are over 13 MB (and I’m shooting with an older camera–I can’t imagine what will happen the next time I upgrade), I’ve run my 120 GB hard drive on my laptop out of space more than once.  I now have a collection of disk drives lingering about in various stages of fullness.  I am constantly worried that my  2 TB backup drive will fill and overwrite some critical photo I’ll never get back.  Not sure what it would be critical for, but who knows?

What amazes me is for the number of photos I have and the amount of disk space I’m maintaining, there are so few pictures I really like.  There are even fewer I would say I’m proud of.  I wonder if this is the unintended consequence of digital photography or if film photographers have the same problem?