Seeing 2010 (#16)

Greetings.

For your consideration, from the nascent Drive By Shootings series, a scene depicting unbridled spontaneity: deep in woods mysterious, a rush of spectral forms bound for purposes and destinations known only unto themselves . . . as fleeting and ethereal as the photons which defined them.

Fantastic Phantasmata, #5946

© 2010 James W. Murray, all rights reserved.

(click image for larger version)

Details: December 28, 2009; Canon 20D; f/5.6 @ 2 secs; -2/3 EV; ISO 400; 39mm.

__________

Seeing 2010 (#15)

For your consideration: portrait of an innocent . . . but how to read his expression? Wariness? Worry? Beseeching? Or is does this depict a quiet satisfaction experienced while surveying a proud accomplishment?

Despite spending an hour or so closely photographing this model, cooperative as he was nonetheless he kept his thoughts to himself.

Untitled (Behind Blue Eyes), #6145

©2010 James W. Murray, all rights reserved.

(click image for larger version)

Details: January 30, 2010; Canon 20D; f/11 @ 1/320 sec; -2/3 EV; ISO 100; 73mm.

__________

Seeing 2010 (#14)

In this entry, a pair of images for your consideration -- from two eras of my photographic sojourns.

The first is a scene from the beaches near Cambria, a canvas illustrating considerable contractions with respect to motion: the form would appear to be plunging downwards, yet its wake suggests otherwise. This tension is magnified by the intuitive sense that the body rests passively (if momentarily) on a surface . . . yet the cord jutting in from the bottom seems to be forcefully fixing the subject in place, providing an additional source of energy. I particularly like the shadow's evocation of a snail's silhouette . . .

+ + +

The second photograph was taken shortly after sunrise on a bitter cold, extraordinarily windy morning, c. November 26, 1989, from a (closed!) State campground near Lone Pine; this submission is another from my transparencies archive.

Taken during a personal Vision Quest I had embarked upon (destination: the Saline and Death valleys, the Grand Canyon, and then on to Tucson, Arizona), I had been awakened from my hypothermic restless sleep by vicious winds gusting against my truck's camper shell. The night before I'd cooked up a quick pot of spaghetti and hurriedly ate it while watching the stars being just as quickly consumed by an approaching mass of storm clouds. When I sought shelter in my truck's bed and sleeping bag I had not yet seen the spectacular nature of this segment of the eastern Sierras due to the darkness.

Thus when I (reluctantly) emerged into the freezing dawn I was utterly stunned by the stark needle-like peaks and the snow being blown off the summits; against all instinct (as an Arizonan I'm not keen on cold) I grabbed my camera gear, somehow managed to climb on top of my vehicle to afford the best unobstructed view possible, and spent an unknown amount of time fighting to keep from being blown off whilst taking many images of one of the most beautiful sights I'd ever seen.

* * *

Untitled, #4600

(c)2010 James W. Murray, all rights reserved.

(click image for larger version)

Details: September 5, 2009; Canon 20D; f/9 @ 1/100 sec; -2/3 EV; ISO 100; 55mm.

__________

Mount Whitney Portal, November, 1989

(c)2010 James W. Murray, all rights reserved.

(click image for larger version)

__________

Seeing 2010 (#13)

For your consideration: an entry from the Christmas Mannequins series.

This piece offers yet another insight as to how marketers may have come to view their clientele: half-brained and prone to fuzzy thinking. I find it surreal that the modern notion of chic entails utterly featureless figures only superficially mimicking the beauty of the human form. Then again, this may be just a store window's homage to a slice of cubism.

Belated update: a viewer of this entry replied with a single word comment, which would have made a deliciously succinct title: Lobotomy.

Fuzz Head with Green, #5809

(c)2010 James W. Murray, all rights reserved.

(click image for larger version)

Details: December 22, 2009; Canon 20D; f/11 @ 1/10 sec; -2/3 EV; ISO 400; 55mm.

__________

Seeing 2010 (#12)

This evening I drove up to San Francisco to meet a friend, Gary, for dinner. Since it has rained nearly continuously locally for the past three days -- and more is forecast throughout this night and into tomorrow -- I chose to leave my camera at home.

Big mistake: despite driving through moderate downfall for much of the way, the city itself was sparkling clear with air as clean and crisp as it only can be after a multi-day scrubbing.

In lieu of new material, then, this submission is drawn again from my prior milieu of transparencies. This image was taken in Lake County on a winter's eve, at dusk, circa 1998. Beyond the well-structured geometry, the composition holds a sense of tension, even subtle danger: the branches seem to claw and reach for the trails above, as if to prey upon the unwitting cargo borne by the safely passed aircraft . . . jets which may have also barely avoided a quite different hazard.

Transits

(c)2010 James W. Murray, all rights reserved.

(click image for larger version)

__________

Seeing 2010 (#11)

For your consideration, another image derived from my archive of color transparencies - a body of work spanning roughly 1977 - 2002. This image, taken circa 1986, is one of those relatively few from the distant past which I still vividly recall taking.

Once upon a time I lived with Mike, a good friend and fellow hiking enthusiast. Between 1985 and 1989 Mike and I hiked Yosemite at least six times annually (the Tuolomne Meadows region in the summer, the Valley Floor in the winter). A ritual of those halcyon summer excursions was to descend from the High Country and spend the last few hours of Sunday afternoon taking in the sights of the Yosemite Valley floor, before exiting the park for the long, weary drive home.

On one such visit we discovered the Ansel Adams gallery; Mike was supportive and encouraging of my photographic pursuits and so patiently indulged the ample time I took touring this visual feast. When we finally emerged from the shop the sun was down (so far as the valley was concerned), it was nearly dark, and as I looked up this spectacular sight took my breath away. Knowing the lighting conditions were changing extremely rapidly, I dashed for our vehicle, grabbed my camera (a Nikon F2), and managed to take this single shot -- the last on the roll of film. It would not matter had I more: this incandescent orange faded so quickly that it would've been gone by the time I managed to reload.

The vast range of color contrast made taking this image challenging and a bit of a guess: I barely had time to fix the lens and shutter settings in order to properly expose the granite monolith. I knew the rest of the scene would be rendered in silhouette. Even with the sun shining on Half Dome's face the lighting was poor; I had to steady myself as best as I could, standing in the middle of the parking lot in order to get a clear view; this image was taken at either 1/30 or 1/15 sec, at the widest aperture possible (f/1.4?). Consequently, the full-size view reveals a bit of softness due to subtle camera motion. Still, the sceme was gorgeous and perhaps a slight bit of softness can be forgiven.

Half Dome Sunset

(c)2010 James W. Murray, all rights reserved.

(click image for larger version)

__________

Seeing 2010 (#10)

For your consideration: a return to the Drive-by Shootings theme.

This construction was taken during the drive back from a daylong visit to Spirit Rock with my close friend Brad. His generous offer to be the chauffeur for our journey allowed me, as passenger, to take forty-one shots over the course of about an hour. I promised him I'd use one of the resulting photographs in my next post, so that he'd have the pleasure of an "I was there" moment. (My idea, not his!)

This thematic experimentation is bringing me a tremendous amount of pleasure, as each image is by definition both utterly unique and unreproducible -- perfect examples of dualities of apparently frozen singularities in time coexistent with the implication of Impermanence. The resulting tableaux project potent displays of motion, yet are themselves static: a subtle inversion of the reality at hand.

The consequent abstractions lend themselves to almost limitless interpretations. For me this particular composition recalls the playful and mystical writings on quantum physics discussed in a book I read many years ago.

Dancing Wu Li Masters, #6061

(c)2010 James W. Murray, all rights reserved.

(click image for larger version)

Details: January 16, 2010; Canon 20D; f/8 @ 5 secs; -2/3 EV; ISO 100; 52mm.

__________

Seeing 2010 (#9)

This submission is one I've been eager to post for several years . . .

The setting depicted is that of the Tucson Mountains, as seen from the Saguaro National Park (East).

As I wrote in my prior entry, my wife's deep generosity has afforded me the luxury of a slide scanner; this entry is the result of (finally!) producing a digital version of a transparency which is one of my all time favorite personal images.

Taken circa 1982, it is remarkable that I still retain the clear memory of shooting this scene, in the company of my dear friends Jonathan and Debra Altman and my cousin Jim McGill. One slightly unusual aspect of the event was the location: the Saguaro National Park is actually two sites (East and West), separated by 30 miles, and while as a group we made innumerable visits to the West district (which is on the back side of the mountains in this image) trekking through the East park was a relatively rare event.

Although I lack specific exposure data, of these details I am confident: the camera was a Minolta XE-7, a joy to use; the lens was a Rokkor-X 135mm f/2.8, and the film was Kodak Ecktachrome.

This transparency was #9 of one hundred twenty-one which I displayed (projected) during the first ever formal exhibition of my work, a show I titled Transparent Thoughts and which was graciously hosted by Paul and Maria Suni in their home in Los Gatos, California, on December 31, 1996. I've waited a long time for the opportune moment to share this vision with a much larger audience . . .

Octotillo Sun

(c)2010 James W. Murray, all rights reserved.

(click image for larger version)

__________

Seeing 2010 (#8)

A scene from the archives . . .

Prior to 1994 I had traveled relatively little -- I'd only been east of Arizona once, an interminably long summer vacation in Texas in 1972, and the extent of my other excursions were confined to the Pacific coast States and Hawaii.

This myopic geographical exposure changed when I joined a software company and began globe trotting as a database designer. Between 1994 and 2001 I was sent on several lengthy visits to various western European nations (including living in England for a time), took a six-week excursion through a slew of Asian Pacific rim countries from Singapore to South Korea, and set foot in about half of the States.

These were tremendously personally enriching experiences. They also took place during the closing years of the traditional film era. During those days the vast of majority of my photographic work was in the realm of color slide film. Consequently I toted my heavy but wonderfully rugged Nikon F2 and an array of lenses with me on most business trips, and was able to amass a modest body of imagery on transparencies. (My first love is black-and-white photography. After graduation from college in 1984 I rarely had access to a darkroom, however, and I find appalling even the thought of having someone else process and print from my negatives, thus I turned towards color work as a means to keep my "photographic eye" active. )

A couple of years ago my dearest Julianna gave me, for my birthday, a dedicated slide scanner. As she has also been incalculably helpful and encouraging of my transition from traditional film to the digital medium I've not devoted as much time as perhaps I ought producing images from my transparencies.

Here, for your esteemed consideration, is one. Since film does not provide the luxury of digital EXIF data, nor did I but very rarely keep exposure logs when shooting film, I cannot provide information as to date, lens, emulsion (certainly either Kodak Ektachrome or Fuji Velvia) or exposure settings. Of course, such arcane specifications should be but remotely relevant to the purpose of an image . . .

Untitled, c. 1997

(c)2010 James W. Murray, all rights reserved.

(click image for larger version)

__________

Seeing 2010 (#7)

It was on the stormy side today, in that slate gray, amorphous, blustery and wet style characteristic of what passes for winter in northern California.

Thus this offering: a rather more interesting display of the majesty possessed by some species of clouds . . . gauzy giants such as these habitually dominate the summer skies in my beloved southern Arizona; this image captures a rare local appearance, near San Juan Bautista. I remain endlessly fascinated by the power and perpetually changing beauty created in these towering structures comprised of millions of indistinct water droplets. An example of a whole which profoundly exceeds the aggregate of its constituent parts.

Clouds, St. Francis Retreat Center, #8437

(c)2010 James W. Murray, all rights reserved.

(click image for larger version)

Details: September 23, 2007; Canon 20D; f/13 @ 1/500 sec; ±0 EV; ISO 200; 85mm.

__________

Seeing 2010 (#6)

For your consideration: a scene depicting life's determination to persist in the face of seemingly inescapable obstacles.

This image was taken in the late afternoon sunlight; it was extremely breezy which caused this thin stalk to be nearly continuously whipped to and fro. These unpredictable and frantic movements, accentuated by my near-macro approach, mandated an extremely fast shutter speed in order to freeze my subject in place.

A beautiful irony is on display here: the steel is strong, solid, inflexible and implacable in its duty as the demarcation of a barrier . . . yet nonetheless proves to be no match for the force of a flimsy organic wisp. Of course a question goes begging: what possessed the plant to force its way between the post and wire in the first place? Hardly the path of least resistance. Perhaps a better title for this simple study should be Stubbornness.

The Fencing Match, #5827

(c)2010 James W. Murray, all rights reserved.

(click image for larger version)

Details: June 2, 2007; Canon 20D; f/9 @ 1/800 sec; -2/3 EV; ISO 800; 64mm.

__________

Seeing 2010 (#5)

This entry: dualities.

For quite a long time I've held a rather cynical view of the frenetic consumerism which has so utterly removed the magical spirit from the Holidays of my youth: jousting for parking spaces, quid pro quo driven gifting, Muzak flavored carols and Santa decorations appearing before Halloween (!!!) all push back the tender notion of spiritual reverence and Good Will Towards Men to the realm of dim nostalgia.

As I wrote in a prior entry, virtually none of the surreal store front mannequins on parade in the local shopping malls conveyed anything remotely evocative of Joyeux Noël, but rather served only to reinforce the notion that a detached, Kafkaesque ennui is our modern collective condition.

Hence, the first tableau is another from a series of mannequin images I took during the recent Christmas season. Here the duality is ironic: inanimate objects sharing a secret communqué . . . and with a suggestion of vacant disinterest at that.

The second submission is offered as a humorous antidote to the first; this photograph's raison d'être is the delightfully surprising shadow which draws a smile across the surface and allows the old, deteriorating truck's door handle to be seen as having considerably more optimism than that held by plastic models.

* * *

Sweet Nothings (Telling Secrets), #5827

(c)2010 James W. Murray, all rights reserved.

(click image for larger version)

Details: December 22, 2009; Canon 20D; f/8 @ 1/60 sec; -1 EV; ISO 400; 52mm.

__________

Man Handle, #5869

(c)2010 James W. Murray, all rights reserved.

(click image for larger version)

Details: December 25, 2009; Canon 20D; f/11 @ 1/600 sec; -2/3 EV; ISO 100; 55mm.

__________

Seeing 2010 (#4)

Tonight's submission: perhaps a bit more "mainstream."

A close friend and artistic critic of this blog, regarding the prior post, opined, "Hmmm, [I] ought to find some new material." A semi-kind way of stating, "What were you thinking?" and "That image is not very good."

As we all tend to have attachments to our own creations (especially true for the narcissistic, sensitive artist types such as yours truly) such feedback can sting a bit . . . and true confession, it did. Still, the truth be known, at the time I posted Abstract (Jovian Dreams), #5469 even though I too was dissatisfied with the image and really debated whether or not I should have put it up for viewing. It suffers from over processing, if nothing else. (The subject matter's relevance and capacity to evoke responses will naturally vary for each viewer. Yet, let's face it: when even the artist questions the efficacy and authenticity of his own piece -- as I did -- well, it would've been better to defer. We can all agree it was not my best effort.)

Combined with having trudged through some particularly difficult times in recent days, this last dubious effort left me feeling a bit hesitant and cautious about posting anew. Then I perused a slew of photography magazines recently, and was once again reminded of the vast variety of work considered by others worthy of publication; there was material both amazing and in the "huh?" domain from my perspective.

Thus my confidence in my own vision was buttressed, and despite having the worst day in many months today (featuring, among other things, the experience of having my car vandalized and my beloved tripod and related equipment stolen) . . I'm baaaaaaack.

For your consideration, then, a peaceful scene from the heart of a small valley through which I travel when en route to my parents' home in California's wine country. My wife graciously put up with an interruption of the drive long enough for me to hop out of our vehicle to take a few shots in the rapidly fading and changing light. It was very nearly dark, and had we been just five minutes later to this venue it would've been too late.

(Fear not: abstracts and other oddities will return to future posts soon!)

Pope Valley Dusk, #5842

(c)2010 James W. Murray, all rights reserved.

(click image for larger version)

Details: December 24, 2009; Canon 20D; f/11 @ 1/100 sec; -2/3 EV; ISO 200; 22mm.

__________

Seeing 2010 (#3)

Tonight's submission is an abstraction derived from a combination of unfamiliar terrain, a singularly unexpected object (a giant amongst peers) and sharply angled lighting which produces not only a highly textured surface but also striking and disproportionally large shadows.

A surprising degree of suggested motion exists here: the large ball's angled and rising shadow implies an ascent in in progress; the sweeping grooves above the parallel chains echo this vector. Below the shadow's march across the image are notches diving towards the bottom, offset by rising cuts and a comma swimming toward the frame's right edge.

And, finally, a mystery: from whence the jagged shadows? The lower line of orbs which sit on the surface? Or from their levitating kin floating above?

Abstract (Jovian Dreams), #5469

(c)2010 James W. Murray, all rights reserved.

(click image for larger version)

Details: October 30, 2009; Canon 20D; f/11 @ 1/200 sec; -2/3 EV; ISO 100; 25mm.

__________

Seeing 2010 (#2)

Tonight's submission is an follow up to last night's, taken moments later from essentially the same location.

The glow of the last year's last full (and blue) moon hazily illuminates this canvas from ±235,000 miles distant, ironically as a sort of negative silhouette eclipsed by a dormant light standard. Where it not for having been taken at 1:20 a.m., this image might easily be interpreted as a solar eclipse, rather than the pseudo-lunar species presented here.

Note the faint coronal ring, formed by the mist-laden evening atmosphere.

San Rafael, New Year's 2010, (Lunar Luminescence), #5991

(c)2010 James W. Murray, all rights reserved.

(click image for larger version)

Details: January 1, 2010; Canon 20D; f/11 @ 30 secs; -2/3 EV; ISO 100; 18mm.

__________

Seeing 2010 (#1)

Well, in a trivial manner an auspicious start to the new decade, posting-wise: hustled to prep the image below so as to publish it on New Year's Day . . . seems I just missed the strike of midnight for January 2nd . . . and in my haste an utterly empty entry went out. (Note to blogspot: bad idea to have the default mode for pressing Enter as "Publish Post" rather than "Save As Draft.")

Ah well, here's the first submission of the year nonetheless . . .

After a delightful evening of Thai food followed by enjoying comedian Louis Black with my wife at the Marin Civic Center Auditorium in San Rafael, I wandered around the Civic Center grounds.

The Moon was full (in fact, up until 11:59:59 p. m. on December 31, 2009, it was a Blue Moon) albeit slightly obscured by high, thin clouds. My initial goal was to capture a beautifully-lighted fountain set in the midst of a huge pond, but before I could equip myself with tripod and camera and get out to a workable vantage point the majority of the lights illuminating the various parking lots, sidewalks -- and fountain(s) -- shut off.

Still, beneath of La Lune's ethereal glow there were a few subjects of interest. I had the entire vast compound to myself, so far as I could tell, which made the scene below all the more eerie: it was utterly silent, with the glowing orb high overhead my only companion. These flag-topped structures reminded me both of turrets, and giant sentinels, providing a subtle sense of protection against the isolation and loneliness inherent in the dark expanse I found myself.

This offering is one of the first few photographs I took this New Year's Day (at 1:10 a.m., in this particular case). The scene presented here is quite removed from my normal mental image of Marin as a place of green hills thickly carpeted with foliage, boat docks, art shops and cafés. I rather like this disquieting juxtaposition . . .

San Rafael, New Year's 2010 (Midnight Sentinels), #5984

(c)2010 James W. Murray, all rights reserved.

(click image for larger version)

Details: January 1, 2010; Canon 20D; f/8 @ 30 secs; -2/3 EV; ISO 100; 18mm.

__________

Seeing 2009 (#114)

Voilà! La fin de la décennie. Ce n'être pas possible, non?

The last posting of not only the year, but also for the decade . . . those were a quick ten years!

For your consideration then, two images in honor of of the holiday season, as it also draws to a close. Each of these photographs were taken at my parents' home near Kelseyville, CA, in the wee hours of the last night of my wife's and my Christmas visit, after all were in bed and not a creature was stirring . . .

The first offering is of an object which was involved in a briefly traumatic moment: after coming home for dinner the prior evening my brother Eric started to park his car exactly over patch of the Earth's surface where I intended to place my tripod in order to capture this wired entity; I asked my sibling if he would park elsewhere and in gladly complying he backed up and ran into a rather sturdy tree in the dark. No damage to the (fairly new) car, but the next evening I approached my subject with a bit of wariness, à la Rod Serling. My intent here is to present a somewhat abstract impression of what seems a bit surreal to me -- a skeletal representation of a traditionally friendly holiday decoration. Frosty here seems anything but, aglow as he is as if emanating light from invisible flames. The background lights suggest distant stars and a stellar arcing connection -- a trail of thought -- to what might be a Snowman's own impression of Santa (normally the alpha icon, here relegated to a secondary and diminutive status).

The second tableau - and the final photograph posting of this blog for 2009 -- was taken in the living room. During the five day visit my eyes were repeatedly drawn to the complex, strange and decidedly ominous shadows cast by the Christmas tree's angel . . . I was absolutely compelled to capture this contradictory aura, and I was quite struck by the incongruity of the notion of an accidental Dark Angel looking down upon us all. Throughout the family gathering this visage frequently loomed in my consciousness, as it directly contradicted the overt and reassuring brightly-glowing power and beauty of a different tree angel from my childhood.

This image profoundly reflects my fascination with the power of shadows -- forms representing a lack of substance -- to utterly alter an environment's mood, and to often reveal hidden complexities and perspectives derived from the source material at hand. A bit of Jekyll and Hyde may reside in us all -- even in an innocent angel it would appear.

* * *

Frosty Dreams, #5908

(c)2009 James W. Murray, all rights reserved.

(click image for larger version)

Details: December 28, 2009; Canon 20D; f/11 @ 1.3 secs; -2/3 EV; ISO 100; 45mm.

__________

Shadow Angel, #5931

(c)2009 James W. Murray, all rights reserved.

(click image for larger version)

Details: December 28, 2009; Canon 20D; f/11 @ 10 secs; -2/3 EV; ISO 100; 50mm.

__________
__________

As I wrap up my efforts to bring some of my photographic efforts out from under wraps for what I hope as been your pleasure and entertainment, I must thank each and all of you who have taken the time and given me the respect of your time by visiting these entries.

To those who have gone to the effort of commenting I am particularly grateful; every aspiring artist secretly (and not-so-secretly) lives with the duality of emotions - trepidation and eager hope - which attends the risk of actually presenting one's art to the public. Will my efforts be deemed worthy? Interesting, intriguing, perhaps even compelling upon occasion?

During this project I've been challenged to hone, refine and expand my artistic vision, to considerably raise my standards, and to take further risks with my oeuvre. Your presence -- your shared experience of my journey -- has immeasurably assisted a significant growing of the depth and breadth (and breath!) of my creative horizons, and for that I am appreciative beyond what words would adequately convey.

I would like to thank a few people specifically, who've make immeasurable contributions to the wonder of my photographic forays and expansion this year: Jerry Berkstresser, who has a terrific eye and challenges me to experiment more than I otherwise would do; Micah Jeffries, a student assistant in my office and an artist in his own right (ink/pen) . . . mentoring his photographic efforts has been a delight; the "V" posters and Brad Koch who give encouragement by their overt presence on this blog; Nino Y. who does not post here but who nonetheless sends rare but wonderful accolades via email . . .

And most of all my loving and sweet wife Julianna. Without her early and substantial funding of my digital equipment -- and her continuing and tremendous, beyond amazing support of my efforts through tolerating the immense amount of late night and weekend time I devote to my art -- I would not have been able to create any of the work I've been produced for the past five years at least.

÷÷÷÷÷

In life photography has brought me a joy and spiritual process beyond measure; the acts of visualizing and then creating something which in itself did not previously exist -- to contribute something new to this spectacular universe -- I find to be an endlessly wondrous experience. My goal is to present largely ubiquitous scenes and objects with a fresh perspective, in order to evoke a sense of mystery, a call for discovery and exploration, and ultimately to produce a direct emotional connection with the work. I hope, dear reader, that I've succeeded more often than not in this pursuit.

Finally, I relish what new discoveries I will be able to share with you in the 2010 postings here. Over the past several months I've taken far, far more photographs than I'll ever have time to properly preparefor posting, thus I've a significant inventory from which to draw already. (Yet of course I shall continue shooting, even later today I suspect!). As I alluded to a few posts back (#112), mannequins look to figure large in the space in the near future, as do several more images from my "nocturnal drive-by-shootings". I plan to acquire a new Macro lens soon, which should lead to a broad series of organic and inorganic abstractions. Portraits - candid and formal -- will also be making an appearance. Most exciting, of course, are those subjects, scenes and compositions I have yet to encounter or even envision . . .

It outta be fun in . . . stay tuned and watch this space!

Namaste,
James

Seeing 2009 (#113)

First: please accept a mea culpa -- it figures that earlier today, on what may well be the last post of the year, I errantly sent out a blank post #113 before any content was in place . . . doh!

Second: due to time constraints this may well be the final post of 2009 . . . although if I can find a few extra hours afoot before my wife and I set out for Marin tomorrow I'll send out a last missive or two.

Superficially, this submission is a simple composition emphasizing surface textures and spacial arrangements.

Perhaps more can be discerned . . . Coming as it does at the close of a decade this scene also speaks to paths, challenges and the limitless possibilities laying just beyond the visible landscape.

A set of steps seem to arise suddenly from ledge of unknown depth, then just as abruptly confronts a façade which hints at being unscalable. Another shelf leading off to the right could portend a distant destination, but how to know? These barriers and trails share the advantage of being fully illuminated, offering a bit of optimism at least; still, what about the unexplored spaces behind the window? The pane's stark contrast of apparently impenetrable darkness may suggest a foreboding interior to be rejected as a viable path.

Yet how often does it turn out that the road less traveled is that which leads towards unexpectedly sweet rewards and positive outcomes? The sun's brilliance emerges from the blackness of night, and so too do unforeseeable bounties occasionally spring forth from long toils in challenging, uncomfortable and unpleasant circumstances. It is just as possible that verdant fields and beckoning beauty await on the other side of this glass portal.

This image then is offered in the spirit of hope that, during the year to come, we may all find ourselves stronger, wiser, gentler and healthier from whatever obstacles and trials which may come our way in the natural order of life, and may the overall scenery be bright, clear, and a cornucopia of possibilities.

Steps, Walls and Window, #2406

(c)2009 James W. Murray, all rights reserved.

(click image for larger version)

Details: February 28, 2009; Canon 20D; f/16 @ 1/800 sec; -1/3 EV; ISO 400; 85mm.

__________

Seeing 2009 (#112)

'Tis The Season, or so the saying goes . . . consequently a few nights ago I succumbed to an extremely rare visit to a local shopping Maul.

I quickly regretted not bringing my camera along. Far more interesting to me than the plethora of consumer consumption collections were the bizarre window entities, apparently frozen in place, mimicking the species of the masses: the degree to which I could recognize my own kind in these apparitions varied immensely. Most potent, however, was the overriding message that the look of chic/cool is now manifested primarily in a triad of models: featureless visages; variations of decapitation (tending towards the partial); and -- most disturbingly -- faces conveying surreal cocktails of zombie-meets-Stepford wife expressions. I was thankful for thick glass encasements.

Tonight I deliberately revisited the local version of Mordor, this time with two simple, premeditated missions: (1) to purchase an item my daughter pointed out during my prior excursion, and (2) to attempt to capture the decidedly strange development in marketing which seems to emphasize the notion that in order to grab attention one needs to adopt an utterly vacant, beyond-uninterested face, or assume a pose screaming either "run for your life" or "please save me from this nameless torture . . ." (These latter two often coexist.)

After 90 minutes of photographing this odd anthropological development I left the financial fortress wondering if the proverbial notion of life imitating art is a frightening future possibility, or if those mannequins are mirrors of a reality which has become opaque due to its pervasive familiarity. Either thesis is terrifying.

Thus, tonight's submission is the opening image from what will likely become a new facet of my oeuvre over the weeks and months to come. In deference to the traditional notion of Christmas being a time of warmth, love and good cheer, the entry is one of the more benign from my foray this evening.

Faceless Model in Red, #5790

(c)2009 James W. Murray, all rights reserved.

(click image for larger version)

Details: December 22, 2009; Canon 20D; f/11 @ 1/25 sec; -2/3 EV; ISO 400; 55mm.

__________

Seeing 2009 (#111)

Tonight's submission is a semi-abstract study of light, form and texture offered as an homage to the Winter Solstice for those of us in the northern hemisphere; 'tis the Summer Solstice below the equator.

This image is converted from its color original in order to emphasize the powerful emergence of light from darkness, a celebration of the trajectory of lengthening days and shorter nights to come.

Hailing from Tucson, Arizona, as I do, I'm much more inclined to bask in ole Sol's illumination than linger under gloomy skies (in apparent contradiction to my love of nocturnal photography). As I've grown older I've noticed an increasing emotional sensitivity to the amount of available light. Since Tucson receives, on average, fully 85% of the available sunshine to be had annually (in the U.S. only Phoenix and Yuma are bathed in more rays) it goes to reason I rather lean towards those photons as winter deepens.

Consequently, I offer this scene as a hint of hope, brightening spirits, the peace and tranquility of fresh mornings, new days full of opportunities, and light's power to warm souls and heal the wounds of stormy experiences --- and in praise of optimism. Though dark it may have been, light will always return to illuminate one's way.

Early Morning Light (Another Day), #2801

(c)2009 James W. Murray, all rights reserved.

(click image for larger version)

Details: May 18, 2008; Canon 20D; f/7.1 @ 1/60 sec; ±0 EV; ISO 800; 35mm.

__________

Seeing 2009 (#110)

Tonight's submission: a simple construction of parallel lines. Note the effective use of depth of field in order to render blurry a background of dry grasses which would be extraordinarily distracting if in sharp focus. Despite an aperture of f/11, which typically yields significant focal depth, the wires stand out against the obscured canvas due to their closeness to the lens. Paying close attention to what is behind the main subject is a crucial consideration in photographic composition.

I took this photograph due to the "twist" on the subject: although it occupies a tiny proportion of the total image space, the main subject is obvious simply due to its representation of variance - non-conformity within an otherwise largely homogeneous scene. I'm naturally drawn to photographic subjects which derive their power not so much from overt dominance but rather by commanding attention by means of an element of surprise.

I spotted this image during the latter stages of an exhausting, long distance charity bicycle ride. The metaphor was timely for me: during life's journeys different paths may frequently be taken (I missed at least two directional signs and thus saw much intended scenery) but in the long run the destination is the same.

Barbed Wire (Staying the Course), #4854

(c)2009 James W. Murray, all rights reserved.

(click image for larger version)

Details: October 3, 2009; Canon 20D; f/11 @ 1/600 sec; - 2/3 EV; ISO 400; 46mm.

__________

Seeing 2009 (#109)

Tonight's submission is a pair of studies of simplicity and serenity. These were taken at Hosteling International's Hostel at Point Reyes Station, the morning after the image from Post #107.

The first scene contains some interesting compositional elements: the triangular shape of the fog-enshrouded hill is echoed by the nose of the surfboard (the tip of which is subtly repeated many times by the roof's edge); the vertical lines in the roof are mimicked in the wall at the canvas edge; the descending slope of the background finds a parallel in the descending building height as well. This pastoral depiction of a quiet morning contains a surprising array of triangles, rectangles and leading lines.

The second photograph is a considerably simpler vision of an unexpected adornment, a basic suggestion of peace and tranquility -- offered as an antidote for this frenzied shopping season.

Namaste.

* * *


Private Early Morning, Pt. Reyes Station, #3649

(c)2009 James W. Murray, all rights reserved.

(click image for larger version)

Details: September 28, 2008; Canon 20D; f/10 @ 1/125 sec; - 2/3 EV; ISO 800; 35mm.

__________

Star Door, Pt. Reyes Station, #3653

(c)2009 James W. Murray, all rights reserved.

(click image for larger version)

Details: September 28, 2008; Canon 20D; f/10 @ 1/200 sec; - 2/3 EV; ISO 800; 64mm.

__________

Seeing 2009 (#108)

For your consideration: an ordinary, perhaps even mundane study of a wash basin.

However, subtle compositional complexities might be discovered here. At first glance this image conveys a scene of repetitious rectangular elements, sharp angles and abruptly plunging vectors. Within this schema exists a secondary pattern, that of spherical objects echoing one another: the round drain is mimicked by the trio of overflow openings . . . which share a geometrical symmetry with the threesome of chrome fixtures . . . for which an easily overlooked kinship exists in the trey-spotted cup. The scene represents a congregation of diametrically opposed essential forms: squares and circles.

Two other aspects of this setting drew me in as worthy of a photographic subject. Initially, the sink in and of itself is superficially perceived as a weighty, static object affixed to the wall. Yet, the effects of the shadows combined with the slice of flooring below and the action of the dynamic lines of the tiles provide a surprising sense that the porcelain is somehow floating in space, hovering, maybe even rising to meet us.

Secondly, this humble subject is perceived as unremarkable due to our primary assumption of its use: washing hands and faces, brushing teeth . . . Consider how differently might this very same item be viewed were it instead titled Baptistry? Simply by altering the label associated with the scene an expected aura of holiness, sacredness, spirituality would be present. Thus, the opportunity and willingness to see broader possibilities can significantly change our perception of the object at hand, reminding us of the constrictions imposed by unchallenged familiarities and expectations.

Sink, #3254

(c)2009 James W. Murray, all rights reserved.

(click image for larger version)

Details: May 17, 2009; Canon 20D; f/11 @ 1/3 sec; - 2/3 EV; ISO 200; 20mm.

__________

Seeing 2009 (#107)

Tonight's submission: an utterly unexpected, delightful -- and quite brief -- "photo op" of sorts.

I was on a mini-road trip with friends Brad, Jerry and Dave . . . we were on our way to the Pt. Reyes Station Youth Hostel for the night, to be followed by a visit to the Spirit Rock Meditation Center the next morning.

Prior to arriving at the spectacular Golden Gate Bridge we had been mired in thick traffic, and had stopped to grab something to eat in hopes that the commute would lighten. By taking the time to nosh we unknowingly put ourselves right-on-schedule to encounter the extremely rare vision of a pair of aircraft, complete with smoke trail, making multiple passes over the entrance to San Francisco Bay: after crossing the bridge we agreed to make a quick side trip to the visitor's center in order to take in the commanding view it offers; right after getting out of our cars these planes appeared.

I had little time to grab my camera, make hasty exposure setting adjustments, and snapped off hurried shots in hope of capturing the graceful and amazing aerobatic display. I did my best to compose the shots reasonably, but only a couple of the resulting images met my criteria. This is one of them.

The apparent ease and grace with which these craft repeatedly soared overhead was a sweet antidote for the (minor) sl0w-travel frustrations; these scene also proved to be a lovely allegory for the lightness of spirit we encountered via meditation the next day.

Golden Gate Flyover, #3624

(c)2009 James W. Murray, all rights reserved.

(click image for larger version)

Details: September 27, 2008; Canon 20D; f/11 @ 1/400 sec; ± 0 EV; ISO 400; 17mm.

__________

Seeing 2009 (#106)

It's been a very long and draining week.

In that spirit, tonight's submission consists of two images depicting simplicity of composition. Each photograph makes particularly efficient use of negative space and strong lighting to provide an ironic sense of energy: despite an utter lack of overt motion in either canvas, the significant textures combined with strong angular shapes and vectors speak to considerable action just beneath the surface.

Both tableaux illustrate a paradox: the power of shadows -- elements by definition completely devoid of substance -- to provide the essence and potency in a composition, often supplanting the importance of far more concrete and weightier objects.

* * *

Leaf Shadow, #5292

(c)2009 James W. Murray, all rights reserved.

(click image for larger version)

Details: October 23, 2009; Canon 20D; f/11 @ 1/125 sec; - 2/3 EV; ISO 100; 59mm.

__________

25 MPH Shed, #4196

(c)2009 James W. Murray, all rights reserved.

(click image for larger version)

Details: November 28, 2009; Canon 20D; f/11 @ 1/400 sec; - 2/3 EV; ISO 100; 49mm.

__________

Seeing 2009 (#105)

For your consideration, the contrasts of night-and-day imagery, mood, and perspectives on destiny.

The first offering continues the series of "Drive-By Shootings", taken from the passenger seat of Jerry's truck as he drove us home from an evening visit to SF MoMA. This type of abstract has a visceral appeal to me, and works on several levels. For one, the rich and vibrant colors, heightened by the contrasting dark sky. This creation also speaks to idea of reality as very much a fluid, ethereal and ultimately elusive notion . . . all things are in motion, beginning at the molecular level, and we're simply along for the ride. It is comforting to realize, as this image attempts to convey, that magnificent beauty and power can be perceived within these dynamic and constant changes, when we allow ourselves to alter our perspective.

The second image was recorded just today, which was bone-chillingly cold and breezy. I'd gone to the top level of a city parking garage in order to take some photographs of the nearby hills, which were blanketed with snow - a rare event locally. On my way back towards shelter this juxtaposition presented itself: the Exit sign, the egress, and the distant cathedral . . . the implication being that passage from this mortal coil to what awaits is a heavenly destination. However, the sign suggests a different outcome: it warns to take your ticket with you, but (in the fine print) comes the caveat, "No cashier at exit." Something of a bleak, existentialist verdict, one befitting a particularly wintry day. (I still haven't gotten warm!)

* * *



Abstract (Warning Sign), #4196

(c)2009 James W. Murray, all rights reserved.

(click image for larger version)

Details: October 22, 2009; Canon 20D; f/8 @ 2.5 sec; - 2/3 EV; ISO 400; 55mm.

__________

7th Heaven (No Cashier At Exit), #5728

(c)2009 James W. Murray, all rights reserved.

(click image for larger version)

Details: December 8, 2009; Canon 20D; f/11 @ 1/200 sec; - 2/3 EV; ISO 200; 76mm.

__________

Seeing 2009 (#104)

Two nights ago (December 5, 2009) I was honored to be one of three featured artists at a private home. Roughly forty people took time out of their holiday calendars to attend. One of the artists, Lisa Francesca, presented fantastic collages, sketches, paintings and mixed media; Michelle Padidar gave her very first public reading, a deeply moving autobiographical story of the cultural upheaval she experienced when leaving her native Iran for the United States in the midst of the 1979 revolution. I of course brought some of my images to exhibit.

It was a wonderful and fulfilling soirée. For me Michelle's story was far and away the most memorable and potent part of the evening: we all sat in rapt attention as her harrowing tale unfolded, and before she finished several listeners were in tears. Her story literally touched souls.

It's been like that of late: life passages not always easy to navigate. Last month I was summoned to Arizona in order to eventually ask that my mother be removed from life support; she passed 13 hours later. On my last day of work before embarking on that trip I discovered that one of my colleagues at work - a librarian - had just received news of her father's death that very day . . . this was November 2nd, and she had been planning to travel to her father's bedside on November 4th, as she knew he was gravely ill (and in his 90s). That he passed away before she could say her goodbyes was clearly a difficult blow.

Today, besides being Pearl Harbor Day, was also a day my family and I attended a memorial service for the uncle of a dear friend, a man who died far too young. The services were held in a Catholic church of the Portuguese vein, and so was classically, conservatively and majestically anointed and appointed with multitudes of angels, Saints, and multiple Christs. It was quite beautiful, despite the distressing occasion. The Rosary and Mass, combined with the rather formal offerings of condolences to the man's family members, profoundly evoked the potency of life and death's inseparable, cyclical duality.

Thus tonight's offering: a portrait of somber yet reverent yearning, an image from within the chapel at the St. Francis Retreat Center in the hills above San Juan Bautista. For me this image evokes the grace of acceptance, and depicts the notion that amidst loss and separation there also exists brightness and light in the very fact of living, and beauty drapes our souls even as we grieve.

Reverence (The Graceful Scarf), #4196

(c)2009 James W. Murray, all rights reserved.

(click image for larger version)

Details: August 9, 2009; Canon 20D; f/11 @ 1/20 sec; - 2/3 EV; ISO 400; 55mm.

__________

Seeing 2009 (#103)

Pardon, please, for the relatively long absence: the onslaught of the holiday season has commenced. Let the mall parking lot skirmishes begin!

In that vein, perhaps: a submission which offers a juxtaposition of warriors from different eras. On the one hand, a trio battles it out (tough guys ironically well-padded) in a frozen version of an ancient Colosseum, frantically rushing to score . . . while a far larger, heroic figure holds a pose epitomizing confidence, serenity and an apparent disinterest, if not quite disdain, for the chaos and conflicts of modernity. I'm with the statue.

Faceoff, #5098

(c)2009 James W. Murray, all rights reserved.

(click image for larger version)

Details: October 17, 2009; Canon 20D; f/5.6 @ 1/20 sec; -1 1/3 EV; ISO 800; 85mm.

__________