Photostory Friday: 365 Week 25

Hosted by Chris



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Do you ever feel like you're neglecting your blog? That's how I've felt lately, I've just been insanely busy this week. I apologize to those of you that I haven't gotten around to -- I will, I promise.

And I'll try to get another "Photo Class" up this weekend -- I know you're just dying for it  :)

Day 168

June 18: This is Emma. She's preparing to chew down a tree, with her hillbilly beaver teeth.

Day 169

June 19: Tiffany and Jaden. On Saturday, I shot bridals for their upcoming wedding, in July. 


July in St. George Utah. 


It's hot in St. George, in mid June. 


Brigham Young once said that if he had a house in Hell and a house in St. George, he'd rent out the house in St.George, and live in Hell -- because it's cooler. 


But, in the end, it's all about the pictures and the memories, right?

Day 170

June 20: On the way home from St. George, I took a side trip up Cedar Canyon, to Cedar Breaks National Monument. It's so beautiful up there -- not to mention SUBSTANTIALLY cooler than St. George. The only problem is, the air gets a little thin up there. 


Judging from this tree, I wasn't the only one having a tough time at 11,000 feet. 

Day 171

June 21: The first day of summer. 


The longest day of the year. 


And Matthew's birthday. 


Matt outgrew his hands this year, but with a little help from Emma, they got the job done. 

Day 172

June 22:  As far as my kids are concerned, I have hit the jackpot. 


Yep, nothing says you've reached the pinnacle of bluecollardom, like a shirt with your name on it. 


I'm not required to wear this, but I work in a very dirty place, and well, you know...


And it comes in handy too. For example: I went to McDonald's for lunch today (which I often do, because they have free wi-fi, and I can mess around on my iPad), and when the kid took my order, he didn't ask what my name was, to write on the little order slip -- he just said "Your order will be right up Chris."


I thought "I must come here enough that they've finally gotten to where they remember who I am! -- It's like going to Cheers!"


Then I looked down at my shirt. Everybody knows your name, when it's written on your shirt...

Day 173

June 23: Emma, Matt and the Neighbor Kid (that's not really his name, but I don't want to use names with faces without permission). Are they flashing the Peace Sign or are they claiming victory?


I prefer to think they're just counting to eight.

Day 174

June 24: I have a thing about my sunglasses. I have very specific criteria. I like them small, thin and black -- which makes the pair in the front ideal. 


But.


I also like to be able to put them on top of my head, when I'm out and about -- especially taking pictures -- I'm always taking them off and putting them on again (only people on CSI take pictures with their sunglasses on). The problem is, I have a giant, misshapen head, and the glasses in front don't fit on top of my head. So the second, slightly bigger pair, are my walking around glasses. 


The pair in the back are my outdoor safety glasses for work. I only wear them when I have to, because they make me look like I should be wearing a "No Fear" T-shirt, and going to a Monster Truck Rally. 


Which just isn't me. 

Lonesome

I'm sitting in the lobby of a motel in Cedar City, 250 miles from home.

It's late, I'm tired and lonely as I've been in a long time.

I'm not cut out for this solo traveling thing. I miss my family, and wish I were home tonight.

Whenever I go away on my own, which isn't frequently, I always look forward to it. I enjoy going places, I enjoy long drives and I occasionally crave solitude. But in the late hours, when I sit alone, it never fails, I only want to be home. It's hard to go to sleep without a hug.

It's hard to end my day without the soft kiss on my cheek, and the whisper of "Goodnight Daddy" in my ear.

It's hard to not get the World Cup update from my son, as I watch his eyes light up like a birthday cake.

It's hard to sleep in a bed alone -- I left that life behind long ago.

As I sat on a quiet bench in a serene and beautiful place today, and thought about my family, I started to cry.

I'll see them all tomorrow, but what brought the tears was thinking about how heartbroken I would be if I never did. If I never held Sharon's hand again, or watched as Jordan blossomed into a beautiful young woman, or played catch with Matt or listened to Emma convince me, for the hundredth time, that she is the smartest person on earth, my life would be no life at all.

If you're reading this Sharon, I love you. If the kids are asleep, please look in on them for me. Take in the beauty of the three miracles we have created, and know that I am thinking of them too. And you...

When canyons were mountains and oceans were raindrops, I loved you. When the stars blink out of existence, I'll still love you.

I love you with all my heart, and I always have.

Photostory Friday: 365 Week 24

Hosted by Chris


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Hosted by Cecilyand Lisa

Day 161

June 11: My twelve year old, who already looks like a fifteen year old, cut her long blonde hair.

Now she looks like she's seventeen.

Sigh.

Day 162

June 12: I paid a visit to my old elementary school. Some things have changed, but I was surprised at how much remained the same. These hopscotches look exactly the way I remember them.

It was an amazing visit -- it was a walk among ghosts. But, very friendly ghosts.

Day 163

June 13: One more white rose picture.

I have an old shot of Jordan, that is very similar to this. But where Jordan's eyes said "Innocence," Emma's say "Mischief."

Day 164

June 14: We went to a Peter Breinholt concert tonight. If you don't know his music, I suggest you go to iTunes and check him out. Start with "What About."

In front of the stage there was a little area where they let the kids dance to the more upbeat songs. It was like a little mini-moshpit. It was a whirl of light and color -- and Emma (the blue blur) led the way into the fray every time.

I know, shocking, huh?

I never listen to a Peter Breinholt song without becoming happier.

Tell 'em Pam!

Day 165

June 15: She claims she's a Tomboy.

Day 166

June 16: She bought it herself. Along with a three hundred-fifty dollar sewing machine, and she still has far more money in her savings account than I EVER had as a child.

Jordan has made more money from babysitting this year, than I made at my first job.

Apparently we don't pass everything on to our children -- Jordan certainly did not get her father's financial sense.

Lucky her.

Day 167

June 17: My Ukulele. I bought it for one reason: to learn to play Over the Rainbow.

Mission accomplished.

Okay, I'm not saying I couldn't use some practice...

I Poo in Blue

We left diapers behind years ago, but I'm almost -- ALMOST -- tempted to have another kid, just so I can make him wear these things.



Almost, but not quite.

Things I did Once: #13

Did you ever work in a giant warehouse?

Was it freezing cold in the Winter, because your boss figured if he didn't have to spend time in there, what was the point of heating it?

(Was it always dark for the same reasons?)

Did you store refurbished exercise bikes in this warehouse?

Were they of all makes and models?

Were there some pretty old ones?

Did you like to hop on one of them in the mornings to get your blood pumping, and to heat yourself up?

Did you pedal as hard and fast as you could?

One day did you decide to ride one of the really old ones, the kind where the pedals are attached to the wheel, the kind where the weighted wheel didn't stop until it darn well felt like it?

Were you unaware of this when you started riding?

Did you pedal faster and faster and faster and faster?

Did you yell "Eat my dust Lance Armstrong!"?

Did your legs suddenly start to cramp up?

Did you try to use your feet and legs to forcibly stop the wheel from Hell?

Did you suddenly find yourself flying -- a' la the Greatest American Hero --  over the handlebars, and landing in a pile of broken treadmill parts?

Did you stick with the Stairmasters to warm you up from then on?

Huh. That EXACT same thing happened to me.

The Next Ten Songs on my iPod: Round 4

More filler -- but this is a pretty good playlist (if I do say so myself)

Set the iPod to shuffle...

Aaaaaaannnnnnndddddd......ACTION!

1. Let it Be: The Beatles

Hands down, the best Beatles song ever. EVER.

Best Line: And when the broken hearted people, living in the world agree, there will be an answer. Let it be.

2. And so it goes: Billy Joel

I used to listen to a lot of Billy Joel (I have a soft spot for piano players), but I've gotten away from him in recent years. But lately, I've been rediscovering his music again. The thing I love about Billy Joel is his range -- he doesn't have a "sound." Every song is it's own.

Best line: But if my silence made you leave, then that would be my worst mistake. So I will share this room with you, and you can have this heart to break.

3. Dear Father: Neil Diamond

From the Jonathan Livingston Seagull soundtrack. The book was lame, and the movie was ever dumber -- but the soundtrack is magnificent; Neil Diamonds best work. If you're into sky watching -- and who isn't in the summer - then this is the music for you.

Best Line: Dear Father, we dream while we may.

4. Song for a Grounded Angel: Joshua Kadison

Joshua Kadison had a hit with "Beautiful in my Eyes" about fifteen years ago. And then he kind of went underground, but he's still been writing beautiful music, and singing beautiful words. He has something of an Elton John sound - if Elton John were from the French Quarter.

Best Line: Fly on little angel, fly away, I pray for you only beautiful things.

5. Forbidden Friendship: How to Train Your Dragon Soundtrack

I love movie soundtracks, and this one just soars.

6. Faithfully: Glee Cast

Everything the cast of Glee does sounds better than the original, and this is no exception. I love the original version of this song, as performed by Journey, but for the season finale of Glee, they turned this song into a male/female duet, and it just seems right.

Just like everything else Glee does.

Best line: I'm forever yours. Faithfully.

7. What about: Peter Breinholt

Peter Breinholt is a local artist. We actually went to one of his concerts tonight. You cannot see Peter Breinholt perform without coming away a happier person. And this song is about precisely that: everything that's right in the world.

Best Line: It's been said that to live is to sorrow, it's been said that there's no room for tomorrow. But what about all the September moons, and what about all the flowers in June, and what about every holiday song in a small town?

8. Like a Rock: Bob Seger

This song has always given me goosebumps. I love songs that build and build -- getting more powerful as they go.

Best Line: I stood arrow straight, unencumbered by all these hustlers and their schemes. I stood proud, I stood tall, and high above it all, I still believed in my dreams.

9. Over the Rainbow: Glee Cast

This is the ukulele version of the song made popular by Israel Kamakawiwo'ole. But this version is MUCH better, because Iz just slaughters the words to one of my all time favorite songs. The Glee folks get it right.

Of Course.

This is why I bought a ukulele last weekend.

Best Line: Someday I'll wish upon a star, and wake up where the clouds are far away.

10: Free/Into the Mystic: The Zac Brown Band

I've only recently discovered these guys. Their sound is something like classic southern rock, mixed together with Van Morrison and Jimmy Buffett. It's a great sound, and this song is a terrific anthem to living for the moment -- and halfway through, for good measure, they fall into a magnificent rendition of Van Morrison's "Into the Mystic."

Best Line: We drive until the city lights, dissolve into a country sky, just me and you. Lay underneath the Harvest moon, and do all the things that lovers do, just me and you. Free as we'll ever be.


Well, that about wraps it up. Check all these guys out on iTunes! Now!

You'll thank me for it.

Chris's Photographer's Code

They're more guidelines than actual rules...

These suggestions may not be the first things another photographer would tell you -- but I'm not that guy.

Today's lesson is on vision.

I hope you packed a lunch -- this is kind of long.

Seeing is more than the physical act of using our eyes. We see with our eyes, and our brains, but we also see emotionally.

 The human brain has the ability to focus on a single subject -- both visually and auditorily -- even in the midst of clutter and confusion. Our eyes and ears can block out the distractions surrounding the subject on which we have focused. This keeps us from being overwhelmed by our environment, but it doesn't help much when we're taking pictures.

For example:

You walk into the living room, and you see your youngest, curled up on the floor, next to the puppy. This is possibly the most precious thing you've ever seen, and you decide you want to capture it, to show to all of those not lucky enough to have been there to witness the blessed event first hand. You grab your camera, you aim, and you fire.

And the picture looks nothing like the scene you remember...here's why:

While your eyes took in the scene before you, your emotions filtered out all the clutter. You didn't see the dirty sock on the floor, or the half eaten sandwich, or the lamp, or the blanket, wadded up in the corner. But the camera saw, and recorded all of it. So we need to learn to help our cameras to see what we see.

Which brings me to this weeks three guidelines:

1. Compose

I mentioned last week that your camera should be your pen, or your paintbrush. It's your storyteller. And just as you would with a paintbrush, you get to decide what goes onto your canvas. You aren't taking a picture -- you're making one.

We tend to get a little quick on the draw with our cameras, and usually when we get quick, we get sloppy. Every picture tells a story and we need to make sure it's telling the story we had in mind. So take a few seconds, evaluate what you're looking at, and ask yourself why you wanted to take a picture of it. This will help you to tell the story you had in mind. Then, through the view finder, compose the picture that you want to see. Put the key components of the story into place, and eliminate the distractions.

(While all three of these pictures capture images of colorful hot air balloons, the last two focus your attention on the intended subject)

2. Watch the Background

When taking pictures, as noted before, our minds see our subject, but our camera sees everything. The worst picture is the one that distracts your viewer from the intended subject. And the thing that distracts us the quickest is the background. Backgrounds are very sneaky, not to mention passive/aggressive. They lurk (in the background, of course) unnoticed and (in their own minds) unloved. This has made backgrounds a little pathological, and they've learned to take it out on us, through our photographs. Just when you think you've created the perfect picture, up pops the background, to ruin it.

So, be aware at all times what the background is doing. This is especially important when photographing people -- or your child could end up with a tree growing out of his head.

Zoom: The easiest way to eliminate background distractions, is to zoom in on your subject. As you zoom, the background is blurred, and neutralized. Most cameras today have some type of zoom feature on them, but if yours doesn't, try taking a few steps closer to the subject -- and then a few steps more. You may also simply need to change your angle to get rid of those pesky backgrounds. Watch the edges of your viewfinder, and make sure you get everything you want in to the picture -- and nothing you don't want. Which brings us to:

3. Fill the Frame

If I was only allowed to give one piece of advice, this would be it. Fill the frame with the story you want to tell. From side to side, and from top to bottom, be sure that your picture has everything that you want, and nothing you don't. Get closer. And closer.

And closer.

Here I wanted to capture the sheer joy, and the adrenaline rush that Emma was getting on this ferris wheel. 

Since photography is a form of visual story telling, we have to be sure that the images we record tell the story we want them to tell. Decide what picture you want to take, and take THAT picture.

No more. No less.

(I wanted to capture the whimsy of It's a Small World, and I found I could do that by simply focussing on, and filling the frame with,  the clock tower, and eliminating the distractions of the fence and the moose bush -- I don't know what else to call it  :)

Fill the frame by zooming, or walking toward the subject, until the focus is on your subject -- and nothing else.

(Filling the frame is most dramatic when taking head shots)

In summary, evaluate your subject, compose the story, eliminate the back ground distractions through moving and zooming, and most important of all -- fill the frame!

Capture the memory you want to capture.

Things I did once: #12

Have you ever heard a praying mantis scream?

Me either.

But I'm pretty sure this guy was screaming at me,  it was just too quietly for me to hear. In fact, I'll bet he was calling me every name in the book, as well as calling down curses upon my head, and generations of my family yet unborn.

See, life is precarious -- especially when you're a bug. You spend all of your time either searching for food (important) or trying not to become food yourself (even more important).

So, when I found this little guy in the warehouse that I worked in, my heart went out to him. Where would he ever find food inside a dark warehouse? So I did the only thing I could do -- I set him free.

I'm pretty sure this is where the screaming started.

It never occurred to me that he WANTED to be in the warehouse, that he'd worked hard to get where he was.

At least it didn't occur to me until I decided to ask him to sit for a portrait. I figured, as his liberator, I could impose on him for a few pictures. Shortly after this picture (where I can almost see him flipping me off), an opportunistic bird flew down and ate him. I had him so exposed that an astigmatic bird could have found him.

He was probably a virgin too.

I feel terrible about this.

The Sandy Kids and The Twilight of Innocence

We were born in the Twilight of Innocence.

In the fading glow of the Space age, and before the dawn of the Information Age, when kids were still allowed to be kids, we were raised to dream big. Our world was very small -- a few blocks only -- and very safe. We were left to ourselves and our friends, because it was okay to do that then. It was like Neverland.

My generation are the last of the innocents. As children, the world was not intruding into our lives. There was no 24 hour news cycle. Days ended and began again, fresh and new. Each morning we took a blank canvas and painted it with life and adventure, and at night we hung it in the grand gallery. The next day there was a fresh new canvas to paint that day's story on.

No internet, no video games (not quite yet), no texting or cell phones or ipods or any of the hundreds of other distractions that we can no longer live without. We had dirt hills and basements and backyards. We had bicycles and roller skates and swings and monkey bars and jump ropes and four-squares painted on the ground. We had each other. We interacted. We laughed and cried and fought and played.

We were happy. And we were innocent.

Innocence is neutral ground, and once you leave, you can never return. The problem with innocence, however, is that you don't know what you have, until you no longer have it.

No one really wants to be innocent again. What we really want is to return to neutral ground, knowing what we know now. We want to be happy, and to know why we are.

What prompts me to write this is something that has been taking place over the last few days:

I grew up in Sandy, Utah, in the greatest neighborhood in the world. It was a new community, where all the families were young, and had young children. LOTS of young children. My family was one of the first to arrive, in 1975, when I was three years old. Over the next couple of years, they poured in -- family after family, kid after kid -- filling the streets and the neighborhood. And no one left. Almost all of the kids were within a couple of years of my age -- hundreds of kids -- and no one moved away. We all grew up together, and we all knew each other. It was a perfect storm for creating a magical childhood.

Eventually, we did move on. We married and almost all of us moved away. But we each kept this childhood neighborhood in our hearts. Then, two days ago, through the magic of Facebook, and the determination of one of us, who finally decided to push us to do what, inside we all longed to do, we started to come back together.

The call went out. A neighborhood reunion -- for any and all who had once lived in our neighborhood. Come home. Talk to old friends. Share your new lives with your oldest friends. It's a spontaneous and phenomenal experience to be a part of.

I knew how I'd always felt about my home and childhood, but it's amazing to hear the same sentiments from every other person who grew up in that neighborhood.

And they came, and are coming still. If one person reaches the end of their network, another picks up the trail and keeps searching until everyone who can be found is found. And on July 10, in a park in Sandy Utah -- our home -- we'll come together to shake hands and to laugh and to tell stories. We're chasing that elusive dream -- to be innocent again, but also to be happy.

And to know why we are.

I, for one, can't wait.

Photostory Friday: 365 week 23

Hosted by Chris



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Hosted by Cecily and Lolli

Day 154

June 4: Blowing Bubbles: Part One

"We're bored."

Five hours into summer vacation, and this is what Matthew and his best friend, Oscar, were reduced to: sitting on the patio swing, blowing bubbles.

Day 155

June 5: Blowing Bubbles: Part Deux

Emma was decidedly NOT bored.

It's so simple, and yet so basically appealing, to give flight to something, even for an instant. To this day, I still can't pass up the magic wand and the sudsy water. How about you?

Day 156

June 6: I end every week thinking that it was a total disaster (photographically speaking). And then I start preparing my pictures to post, and serendipity always slaps me right in the face. This was a triple rainbow, above the foothills to the east of my home (have you ever noticed how rarely you see a rainbow in the western sky? But, I digress...).

It was brighter in reality -- you can just barely make out the third rainbow between the other two.

Actually, my favorite part of the picture is that little cloud right in the middle.

Day 157

June 7: Great skies two nights in a row. We live close to some train tracks and I've always wanted to shoot a train silhouette (hey, we all have dreams...). The problem is, there's a freeway between me and the tracks, so it's hard to get a picture without cars in it.

I must have shot thirty pictures trying to shoot between the cars -- ultimately, I just cropped them out  :)

Day 158

June 8: I know I posted a picture almost just like this, last week, although this is not the same flower. I killed that one.

But this week I'm looking for advice. I know nothing about raising flowers -- I think I've made that abundantly clear -- but all of these giant, beautiful roses bloomed this week, and now they're just falling apart...literally. If I touch them, they crumble.

What can I do (or not do -- besides touch them)?

Day 159

June 9: I love summer rain, and I love gigantic raindrops, and I love torrential downpours.

This picture is all about what you're willing to do to get the shot. I was willing to lay down in the flooded  street.

Day 160

June 10: So, I have this best friend, Aaron. You may have noticed him around. He comments here occasionally, and thirty-five years of friendship makes him think its okay to be snarky.

I asked him to give me a photo subject today, and he said "shoes."

And THEN he laid a guilt trip on me.

"Do you know how lucky you are to have shoes?"

Of course he's right. These are my steel toes that I wear to work. I can't wait to get home every day, to get out of them and slip in to my sandals. And the ability to do that (not even mentioning all the other shoes that I am constantly tripping over in my house) put me, and my family, in a small minority of the world's population.

Today, I am grateful for my shoes.

Thanks Aaron.

Here's what I think

You want to know what I think?

Ok, I'll tell you.

I think rainbows are beautiful, and I hate that they get co-opted and attached to controversial things. Just leave the rainbows in the sky -- they belong to all of us.

I think the Tea Party movement is full of misinformed people. I don't have a problem with their politics so much as with their historical revisions. If you're going to look at American history, you need to look at the whole picture.

I think President Obama is discovering that the country doesn't much care how cool he is anymore.

I think EVERY politician everywhere should live in mortal fear of their political lives. At. All. Times.

I think nothing will ever be accomplished in this country until we all learn to give all we can, take only what is necessary and try to see one another's points of view.

I think there are no more statesmen in this country. The idiots who run this nation haven't had a thought that ran deeper than a soundbite in nearly a generation.

I think they're all replaceable.

I think I'm already tired of writing about politics.

I think Glee is the best show on television, and that the Glee cast sings every song better than the original.

I think Star Wars is the bedrock of philosophy for my generation.

I think Taylor Swift is awesome!

I think homemade strawberry lemonade is ambrosia.

I think Mark Twain is the greatest American Author.

I think I'm Huck Finn, and my best friend is Tom Sawyer.

I think I live in the loveliest place on earth.

I think cargo shorts are a great invention.

I think my camera has given me a very interesting perspective on life.

I think Pink Floyd is timeless.

I think my iPad loves me as much as I love it.

I think I blog to avoid doing laundry.

Or dishes.

Or yardwork.

Or photo editing.

I think my guitar's out of tune, if you know what I mean.
(I mean my guitar's out of tune, incidentally...)

I think God loves His children, but we must frustrate him a lot.

I think my wife sometimes wonders what she got herself into. But I think she loves me -- sometimes because, and sometimes in spite of -- who I am.

I think I shouldn't just sit down and write out random thoughts anymore.

Slow Dancing

The lights are low and the music is loud. My palms are sweaty, and my tie is a little tight, but my acne is under control. Overhead the mirrored ball slowly turns, painting the walls with a kaleidoscope of light and color. Oddly, a smoke machine blows an ankle high cloud of atmosphere into the room. I see her across the crowded dance floor, and begin to make my way towards her. My heart beats faster, and my breathing becomes shallower. As I reach her, my mouth is dry and my chest is constricted -- I might just pass out -- but I manage to ask her if she would like to dance. To my utter (and continual) amazement, she says yes.

Hands on hips and hands on shoulders. That's how it starts. By the end of the song her arms are around my neck, and we are swaying slowly.

Slowly...

The slow dance was not a means to an end, it was the end. For a shy teenage boy, that's about as far as I dared to dream. Just the chance to hold one of these mysterious creatures close, with her itchy sweater and shoulder pads, and the smell of her perfume and her hairspray nearly intoxicating me, was a chance for four minutes in heaven.

The slow dance is a conglomeration of hormones and music.

The hormones weren't a problem (in a manner of speaking). They were in ready supply.

But, the music was a delicate balance, and different songs produced different results. You basically had two kinds of slow dance songs: soft, pop songs, and hair metal power ballads.

When taken in the proper sequential order, the right slow dance songs could transform even a dull school stomp into an evening of modest groping and sweaty, hormonal, teenage euphoria.

Here's the secret formula:

You're the inspiration: Chicago

A great "getting to know you" song.

Right here waiting: Richard Marx

A lot of hair for such a little guy, but he had it where it counted vocally. Forces her to think about whether she could go on without you.

Lady in Red: Chris Deburgh

Introducing a crucial component to the slow dance: Melodrama. Especially effective if she happens to be wearing red. (And once she was)

Faithfully: Journey

One of the greats, with a message of fidelity and eternity -- these are the overarching themes of youth.

Crazy for you: Madonna

The greatest of all soft rock slow dance songs.

Heaven: Bryan Adams

She's holding you closer now, and the friction between her sweater and your jacket have made you so hot that you're going to need a drink of water after this dance. There's only one more song.

Never say goodbye: Bon Jovi

No one -- NO ONE -- does melodrama like Bon Jovi, and this anthem to youth and the eternal nature of friendship will end your night of slow dancing at the crescendo. Guaranteed.

The music has stopped. The fog machine is turned off. The mirrored ball is winding down. Parents are out in the parking lot, waiting, not so patiently, to pick up teenagers, and still get home in time to catch the end of Dallas. She's still in my arms -- momentarily. I thank her for the dance, she smiles and turns to go. Just as she reaches the door, she looks back, briefly, one last time.

Of course this is just one scenario.

What does your slow dance playlist look like?