It's just a rose, as a friend pointed out, yet it was one of several which conveyed some much needed gentle and healing beauty during my brief Sunday afternoon search for mindful distractions. Los Gatos, CA.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Seeing 2009 (#16)
During a silent, cold walk through a neighborhood bereft of visible warm neighbors.
A lonely scene: lots of room to play, with no signs of interest.
A lonely scene: lots of room to play, with no signs of interest.

Winter (Isolation), East Henrietta, NY #1893
(c)2009 James W. Murray, all rights reserved.
(click image for larger version)
Details: November 29, 2008; Canon 20D, f/9 @ 1/40 sec, +1/3 EV, ISO 400, 47mm.
__________
Monday, April 27, 2009
Seeing 2009 (#15)
A (thankfully rare) extremely difficult day. The details have no place here. Spent most of it attempting to be sedate in advance of tomorrow's foray back into the World Of Work - conservation of energy was the goal. Even so, copious amounts of emotional capital were consumed.
Among my most powerful of antidotes is being alone outdoors with my camera. So, in advance of my weekly Sunday evening men's gathering, I took thirty minutes to focus on the beauty and peace of roses, again practicing with my tripod as the subjects were in the deep shade of buildings and, at 7.30pm, the light was evaporating.
Ahhhhhh. After some time behind the lens my soul felt a bit refreshed.
A meeting with my fellows, followed by a quick snack (somehow dinner was skipped), and I found myself suddenly knackered. Yet, on my screen when I got home was the raw, untreated version of the image I offer here (not a rose, you'll quickly note). I felt compelled . . . The reward for diverting my mind from tribulation to art was this: I managed to get a handle on one of the niftier tools in Lr, the adjustment brush. It saved the day here: in the original image the sky was completely washed out; fixing this with the brush took seconds, once I figured it out. I effectively decreased the exposure of the sky by 1 f/stop. To provide a correspondingly correct effect -- a better reflection of reality -- a similar fix was required in the glassed space . . . by experimentation I found the a nudge of -0.5 f/stop was better there. Finally, a twist on the same Lr brush allowed me to apply the equivalent of Photoshop CS3's Unsharp Mask to the scene.
VoilĂ !
Among my most powerful of antidotes is being alone outdoors with my camera. So, in advance of my weekly Sunday evening men's gathering, I took thirty minutes to focus on the beauty and peace of roses, again practicing with my tripod as the subjects were in the deep shade of buildings and, at 7.30pm, the light was evaporating.
Ahhhhhh. After some time behind the lens my soul felt a bit refreshed.
A meeting with my fellows, followed by a quick snack (somehow dinner was skipped), and I found myself suddenly knackered. Yet, on my screen when I got home was the raw, untreated version of the image I offer here (not a rose, you'll quickly note). I felt compelled . . . The reward for diverting my mind from tribulation to art was this: I managed to get a handle on one of the niftier tools in Lr, the adjustment brush. It saved the day here: in the original image the sky was completely washed out; fixing this with the brush took seconds, once I figured it out. I effectively decreased the exposure of the sky by 1 f/stop. To provide a correspondingly correct effect -- a better reflection of reality -- a similar fix was required in the glassed space . . . by experimentation I found the a nudge of -0.5 f/stop was better there. Finally, a twist on the same Lr brush allowed me to apply the equivalent of Photoshop CS3's Unsharp Mask to the scene.
VoilĂ !
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Seeing 2009 (#14)
Encumbered by a nasty cold the last few days. Most of this time I've spent sleeping, watching NBA playoffs, and wading my way through Photoshop Lightroom 2 Adventure, by Mikkel Aaland (O'Reilly, 2009). The theory has been to shorten the learning curve (and lessen frustration) by arming myself with as much education as possible, followed with applying what I've learned by actually using the software. The reality has been different: the reading - slow going, with both retention and patience gradually diminishing as the chapters were studied - and so about an hour ago I'd reach the tipping point where I felt I'd learn more by sitting down with an image on screen, book in front of me, and trying out some of what I've struggled to retain in my brain.
Below is the 2nd Lightroom (hereafter, "Lr") offering.
The scene was in St. Patrick's cathedral in New York City, last winter. My wife, stepdaughter and I were visiting Manhattan; we took in this beautiful edifice as a part of our extensive walking tour and arrived at the tail end of a wedding in progress. The lighting was quite dim, and I had no good views of the bride & groom even as they passed near us on their way to exiting the church and eternal marital bliss . . . However, I was inspired by the exquisite beauty of the interior of the doors, accentuated by the cold wintry exterior beyond.
(Update: I wrote the text above [and the summary below] last night, and deferred posting this at that time because there remained some adjustments I wanted to try: I wanted to make warmer the lighting of the lower outside window. Unfortunately, due to the complex tangle of branches I could find no non-trivial method. I attempted some painstaking work with the CS3 selection/deselection wands, and excessive effort arrived at with only a barely acceptable mask . . . then after jiggering with the Curves tool - not a skill of mine, yet - I got a result half-way there . . . so long as one didn't look too very closely at the unmasked inconsistencies. Thus, in the end, I've decided to leave it as it was at the end of my Lr processing last night, which involved only some rather minor tweaking. A lesson in the angst of being a perfectionist was learned yet again.)
There is more than meets the eye to this offering. The scene at hand presents several levels of both conformity and contrast: a high degree of symmetry and repetitious geometry, juxtaposed with a mosaic of humanity; symbols of eternal stability inhabited by a myriad of visitors; a suggested promise of warmth and protection against the inhospitable world beyond.
Below is the 2nd Lightroom (hereafter, "Lr") offering.
The scene was in St. Patrick's cathedral in New York City, last winter. My wife, stepdaughter and I were visiting Manhattan; we took in this beautiful edifice as a part of our extensive walking tour and arrived at the tail end of a wedding in progress. The lighting was quite dim, and I had no good views of the bride & groom even as they passed near us on their way to exiting the church and eternal marital bliss . . . However, I was inspired by the exquisite beauty of the interior of the doors, accentuated by the cold wintry exterior beyond.
(Update: I wrote the text above [and the summary below] last night, and deferred posting this at that time because there remained some adjustments I wanted to try: I wanted to make warmer the lighting of the lower outside window. Unfortunately, due to the complex tangle of branches I could find no non-trivial method. I attempted some painstaking work with the CS3 selection/deselection wands, and excessive effort arrived at with only a barely acceptable mask . . . then after jiggering with the Curves tool - not a skill of mine, yet - I got a result half-way there . . . so long as one didn't look too very closely at the unmasked inconsistencies. Thus, in the end, I've decided to leave it as it was at the end of my Lr processing last night, which involved only some rather minor tweaking. A lesson in the angst of being a perfectionist was learned yet again.)
There is more than meets the eye to this offering. The scene at hand presents several levels of both conformity and contrast: a high degree of symmetry and repetitious geometry, juxtaposed with a mosaic of humanity; symbols of eternal stability inhabited by a myriad of visitors; a suggested promise of warmth and protection against the inhospitable world beyond.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Seeing 2009 (#13)
Fascinating day: my employeer not only indulged me, but encouraged me to take a one-day class, on paid work time, in Photoshop CS4 & Lightroom 2. Amazing what can be done . . . and oh, so much learning ahead of me.

I've been toying with it, and - especially since I've been sick the past two days - it is far too late to be getting to bed . . . but here's the first Lightroom-processed attempt for your consideration:

Ceiling (NY Sunrise) #1857
(c)2009 James W. Murray, all rights reserved.
(click image for larger version)
Details: November 26, 2008; Canon 20D, f/13, 1/400 sec, -2/3 EV, ISO 400, 59mm.
__________
Friday, April 17, 2009
Seeing 2009 (#12)
High intensity day at work -- a considerable bit of new technical knowledge needed to be promptly applied to a situation visible (directly) at the rarefied summit of the management chain. From time to time a low-grade sense of chaos crept in; in recent days I've had the grace and luxury to seclude myself in small study rooms in the office's upper floors where I undertake silent meditations of 30 minutes or so . . . no chance of that today.
In fact, I left work in time to make a weekly 6:00pm Thursday commitment, went home for a quiet dinner (and some wrestling with security issues on my home PC -- who do you call when you are IT Guy?), and then returned to work in order to move this project as far along as possible before the doors open Friday morning. I don't mind this so much: I'm naturally nocturnal, and I thoroughly enjoyed the solitude which allowed me to crank up my workstation speakers' performance of some excellent Blues offered on Pandora.com last night and into this morning's wee hours. In fact I was able to pull of attending to both the major work project whilst also monitoring the status of my home machine simultaneously, via the marvels of VPN connections.
Nonetheless I'm exhausted and in some need of simple calmness and quiet time above and beyond that which will doubtless be a feature of the comatose-like sleep which is moments away.
In this spirit today I offer the image below, one of my favorite efforts in the past year; it nicely captures those elements and concepts which increasingly matter to me: grace, simplicity, and especially the tenuous, beautiful and fleeting nature of existence. This photograph demonstrates a paradox: the illusion of solidity existing simultaneously with an evanescent sense of reality, carried away by mere wisps, of a breath just past and its coexistent consequences . . .
Bonsoir, mes amis.
In fact, I left work in time to make a weekly 6:00pm Thursday commitment, went home for a quiet dinner (and some wrestling with security issues on my home PC -- who do you call when you are IT Guy?), and then returned to work in order to move this project as far along as possible before the doors open Friday morning. I don't mind this so much: I'm naturally nocturnal, and I thoroughly enjoyed the solitude which allowed me to crank up my workstation speakers' performance of some excellent Blues offered on Pandora.com last night and into this morning's wee hours. In fact I was able to pull of attending to both the major work project whilst also monitoring the status of my home machine simultaneously, via the marvels of VPN connections.
Nonetheless I'm exhausted and in some need of simple calmness and quiet time above and beyond that which will doubtless be a feature of the comatose-like sleep which is moments away.
In this spirit today I offer the image below, one of my favorite efforts in the past year; it nicely captures those elements and concepts which increasingly matter to me: grace, simplicity, and especially the tenuous, beautiful and fleeting nature of existence. This photograph demonstrates a paradox: the illusion of solidity existing simultaneously with an evanescent sense of reality, carried away by mere wisps, of a breath just past and its coexistent consequences . . .
Bonsoir, mes amis.
Candle #2151
(c)2009 James W. Murray, all rights reserved.
(click image for larger version)
Details: December 30, 2008; Canon 20D, f/11, 1/320 sec, ISO 400, 85mm.
__________
Monday, April 13, 2009
Seeing 2009 (#11)
An incredibly busy week has passed, which featured a rare and thus all-the-more discomforting depression midway through. Willingness to persist in trudging the path helped, along with frequent, perfectly timed (of course) nuggets of support from friends and loved ones.
Emerged from the fog in time to thoroughly enjoy a deliriously healing and entertaining evening of celebration, attended by more than eighty members of my family, both consanguineous as well as spiritual brother and sisters. Thus, thanks to the extended and persistent and loving efforts of my beautiful and wonderful wife Saturday afternoon and evening became of the three greatest experiences of my life (along with my wedding day and the installation of my Considered Images exhibit).
Emerged from the fog in time to thoroughly enjoy a deliriously healing and entertaining evening of celebration, attended by more than eighty members of my family, both consanguineous as well as spiritual brother and sisters. Thus, thanks to the extended and persistent and loving efforts of my beautiful and wonderful wife Saturday afternoon and evening became of the three greatest experiences of my life (along with my wedding day and the installation of my Considered Images exhibit).
* * *
Below is a scene from a rather hot, humid and generally oppressive summer(!) visit to Houston. The sky was at most times a nearly homogeneous cloak of muggy smog. It was challenging both to weather the atmosphere and to mine photographic visions, of which this is one. The only alteration to this image was to brighten the sky, so as to yield a bit more abstractness. This pretty much encapsulates my views and feelings about Texas' largest city.
Friday, April 3, 2009
Seeing 2009 (#10)
Having rediscovered the joy and positive energy of late evening loud music delivered by means of headphones, there's considerably more adrenaline than normal in the veins tonight (made possible by my wife and step-daughter's joint beautifully loving gift of an iPod Nano few months back).
Thus a few offerings . . . two images taken under unsettled dark skies separated by virtually exactly three years, another beneath a heavenly bit of widely scattered lightfall.
The first, an extraction from the particularly enjoyable night work I undertook with my buddy Jerry a few weekends ago. (Another effort from this shoot appears in #7 of this Seeing 2009 series). This bit of the universe is an upward-looking view of a significant local landmark, recorded between rain showers just before one o'clock in the morning.

Neon Spectrograph (Jaws' Arch), #2594
(c)2009 James W. Murray, all rights reserved.
(click image for larger version)
Details: March 21, 2009; Canon 20D, f/11, 1.3 sec, -2/3 EV, ISO 200, 85mm.
__________
For your further consideration: a revisitation - another stormy evening, another site. The effort here was premeditated for at least a year, a desire to conquer the disappointment of an earlier nocturnal visit (nearly three years to the night, on 28-Mar-2006) . . . that first evening I lacked a tripod and so captured what became a tentative, blurry sketch of sorts for what you see below.
This version is a rare composite of several exposures blended, done in order to capture an extreme range of contrasts between the comparatively faint, ethereal clouds and the shimmering metal. A considerable amount of time went into developing this particular vision, entailing more than a few discarded prototypes . . .
I am particularly pleased with the outcome, in no small part due to this image's resistance to being rendered in a fashion substantially reflecting the power, the atmosphere and the challenges it presented me in this excursion and extraction. Here my art truly demanded digging deeply to create a canvas worthy of public exposure.

Enmeshment
(c)2009 James W. Murray, all rights reserved.
(click image for larger version)
Details: November 8, 200; Canon 20D, f/9, 15 & 30 sec, ISO 400, 41mm.
__________
Last, but not least: a moment in time at my beloved holy ground, that of the St. Francis Retreat Center in the hills above San Juan Bautista. Presented here in natural lighting, without significant color manipulation save for slight adjustments to overall image brightness and contrast.
Thus a few offerings . . . two images taken under unsettled dark skies separated by virtually exactly three years, another beneath a heavenly bit of widely scattered lightfall.
The first, an extraction from the particularly enjoyable night work I undertook with my buddy Jerry a few weekends ago. (Another effort from this shoot appears in #7 of this Seeing 2009 series). This bit of the universe is an upward-looking view of a significant local landmark, recorded between rain showers just before one o'clock in the morning.

Neon Spectrograph (Jaws' Arch), #2594
(c)2009 James W. Murray, all rights reserved.
(click image for larger version)
Details: March 21, 2009; Canon 20D, f/11, 1.3 sec, -2/3 EV, ISO 200, 85mm.
__________
For your further consideration: a revisitation - another stormy evening, another site. The effort here was premeditated for at least a year, a desire to conquer the disappointment of an earlier nocturnal visit (nearly three years to the night, on 28-Mar-2006) . . . that first evening I lacked a tripod and so captured what became a tentative, blurry sketch of sorts for what you see below.
This version is a rare composite of several exposures blended, done in order to capture an extreme range of contrasts between the comparatively faint, ethereal clouds and the shimmering metal. A considerable amount of time went into developing this particular vision, entailing more than a few discarded prototypes . . .
I am particularly pleased with the outcome, in no small part due to this image's resistance to being rendered in a fashion substantially reflecting the power, the atmosphere and the challenges it presented me in this excursion and extraction. Here my art truly demanded digging deeply to create a canvas worthy of public exposure.

Enmeshment
(c)2009 James W. Murray, all rights reserved.
(click image for larger version)
Details: November 8, 200; Canon 20D, f/9, 15 & 30 sec, ISO 400, 41mm.
__________
Last, but not least: a moment in time at my beloved holy ground, that of the St. Francis Retreat Center in the hills above San Juan Bautista. Presented here in natural lighting, without significant color manipulation save for slight adjustments to overall image brightness and contrast.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Seeing 2009 (#9)
(Note: the following entry was intended to be posted late in the evening on 1-April-09, but the attempt was thwarted due to an increasingly balky cable modem . . .)
Survived visits to the dentist (9.00am) and the Taxman (7.00pm). In between treated myself to a 30-minute visit to my favorite meditation spot: next to an artificial (but nonetheless soothing) babbling brook in the midst of a quiet, small gem of a public park near my home.
This image, taken in another place and time (last weekend, Spirit Rock Meditation Center), epitomizes my desire for each day.
Survived visits to the dentist (9.00am) and the Taxman (7.00pm). In between treated myself to a 30-minute visit to my favorite meditation spot: next to an artificial (but nonetheless soothing) babbling brook in the midst of a quiet, small gem of a public park near my home.
This image, taken in another place and time (last weekend, Spirit Rock Meditation Center), epitomizes my desire for each day.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Seeing 2009 (#8)
April 1st, 2009, and it's been 20 years today . . . and I know less than ever.
The image below was taken during a weekend sponsor/sponsee getaway two years ago (on my 48th birthday), the purpose of which was to go through some intensive step work. Should do these more often.
The image below was taken during a weekend sponsor/sponsee getaway two years ago (on my 48th birthday), the purpose of which was to go through some intensive step work. Should do these more often.
Friday, March 27, 2009
Seeing 2009 (#7)
Making do with what presents itself: sitting in Jerry's truck, wishing the rain would cease . . .
I've long been fascinated with what it might have been like to somehow witness the first few moments after the Big Bang. This image reminded me of this notion, combined with elements of String Theory and images from the Hubble telescope.
I've long been fascinated with what it might have been like to somehow witness the first few moments after the Big Bang. This image reminded me of this notion, combined with elements of String Theory and images from the Hubble telescope.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Seeing 2009 (#6)
Above all, photography is about light. Light's intensity and hue shifts considerably as the sun traverses the sky and as the seasons parade past. The angle at which the photons caress a surface reveals or obscures the suggestion of texture. The very word photograph was coined by Sir John Hershel in 1839 by combining the Greek word for "light", photos, with graph, for "an instrument for recording." Thus: writing light.
I don't recall exactly when it was I first discovered the joy of creating images largely based on the lack of light -- night photography -- but it must have been fairly early in my love affair with this art, circa 1975. It demands, of course, an entirely different way of "seeing": at night something of a parallel universe is revealed under the magic of street lights, stars and the Moon.
Recently I've returned to the immense pleasure of shooting after dark, thanks to my friend Jerry's shared enthusiasm of this methodology and his willingness (and patience!) to accompany me lurking about in the wee hours. On a few occasions now we've journeyed under cover of darkness, cameras, and tripods in tow, and the experiences have been delightful. Oh: some of resulting images have been extremely satisfactory as well . . .
It must be noted that neither Jerry nor I individually nor together prefer nocturnal photography during rain showers (although we both love the emergent reflections after the storms pass); it is just our recent luck to have set out twice on nights featuring inclement weather, hoping to dodge the drops. Our skills at avoiding precipitation may leave something to be desired, but our ability to adjust to prevailing conditions and produce some art nonetheless proves worthy, perhaps.
My initial offerings for your consideration are below (I'm only posting one at this writing -- more will follow in the next day or two so check often); Jerry's can be seen here.
I don't recall exactly when it was I first discovered the joy of creating images largely based on the lack of light -- night photography -- but it must have been fairly early in my love affair with this art, circa 1975. It demands, of course, an entirely different way of "seeing": at night something of a parallel universe is revealed under the magic of street lights, stars and the Moon.
Recently I've returned to the immense pleasure of shooting after dark, thanks to my friend Jerry's shared enthusiasm of this methodology and his willingness (and patience!) to accompany me lurking about in the wee hours. On a few occasions now we've journeyed under cover of darkness, cameras, and tripods in tow, and the experiences have been delightful. Oh: some of resulting images have been extremely satisfactory as well . . .
It must be noted that neither Jerry nor I individually nor together prefer nocturnal photography during rain showers (although we both love the emergent reflections after the storms pass); it is just our recent luck to have set out twice on nights featuring inclement weather, hoping to dodge the drops. Our skills at avoiding precipitation may leave something to be desired, but our ability to adjust to prevailing conditions and produce some art nonetheless proves worthy, perhaps.
My initial offerings for your consideration are below (I'm only posting one at this writing -- more will follow in the next day or two so check often); Jerry's can be seen here.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Seeing 2009 (#5)
The stage is set for an electrified atmosphere of Fifties fun.
Yet the scene seems out of step: where is everybody? As the notes drift across and out of the scene the floor is remarkably empty . . .
A closer look reveals what perhaps others have noticed: the one couple present seems suspended not so much in a gleeful embrace but rather in a struggle to escape one another.
Can a jukebox be malevolent?
Yet the scene seems out of step: where is everybody? As the notes drift across and out of the scene the floor is remarkably empty . . .
A closer look reveals what perhaps others have noticed: the one couple present seems suspended not so much in a gleeful embrace but rather in a struggle to escape one another.
Can a jukebox be malevolent?
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Seeing 2009 (#4)
This past weekend I was absolutely delighted to trek down to the St. Francis Retreat Center in the foothills above San Juan Bautista, CA, in order visit my beloved friend Louise. She was making her annual visit from Michigan. Originally natives of the Netherlands, she and her late husband John resided on the retreat center's grounds for nearly three years (c. 2002 - 2005) and were unfailingly warm, generous, and kind to me during my many trips to the compound.
Once they surprised me by inviting to come and stay the weekend, at their expense, so that I could relax, commune and photograph to my heart's content (click here for some of the resulting images); I was privileged to be housed in a quaint and lovely residence normally (at that time) reserved for visiting clergy, the Casa Berando. I have fond memories of that stay, and the fact that Louise happened to have been residing in Casa Berando this month made my time with her all the more special.
The image below is one of the best of about 50 I took during a three-hour chat.
My deepest appreciation goes out to my friend and fellow photographic artist Jerry Berkstresser: he is directly responsible for two vital factors in making this photograph possible: he loaned me his tripod a few months ago, the use of which inspired to finally purchase my own professional grade Manfrotto model; and his suggestion of a radio remote control (arising from the need to keep my camera still for lengthy night exposures) enabled me to carry on an extended and entirely normal conversation with my subject (Louise) while sitting at some modest distance from the photographic apparatus . . . this permitted me to capture much more candid and relaxed images of her than would be impossible were I constantly huddled behind the camera with my face glued to the viewfinder, with the attendant uncomfortable intensity such activity imposes upon the subject.
Details: Canon 20D, f/6.3, 1/60 sec, 41mm, ISO 400, EV -2/3, RAW mode, flash w/ natural lighting. (Click on the image for full-sized view.)
Once they surprised me by inviting to come and stay the weekend, at their expense, so that I could relax, commune and photograph to my heart's content (click here for some of the resulting images); I was privileged to be housed in a quaint and lovely residence normally (at that time) reserved for visiting clergy, the Casa Berando. I have fond memories of that stay, and the fact that Louise happened to have been residing in Casa Berando this month made my time with her all the more special.
The image below is one of the best of about 50 I took during a three-hour chat.
My deepest appreciation goes out to my friend and fellow photographic artist Jerry Berkstresser: he is directly responsible for two vital factors in making this photograph possible: he loaned me his tripod a few months ago, the use of which inspired to finally purchase my own professional grade Manfrotto model; and his suggestion of a radio remote control (arising from the need to keep my camera still for lengthy night exposures) enabled me to carry on an extended and entirely normal conversation with my subject (Louise) while sitting at some modest distance from the photographic apparatus . . . this permitted me to capture much more candid and relaxed images of her than would be impossible were I constantly huddled behind the camera with my face glued to the viewfinder, with the attendant uncomfortable intensity such activity imposes upon the subject.
Details: Canon 20D, f/6.3, 1/60 sec, 41mm, ISO 400, EV -2/3, RAW mode, flash w/ natural lighting. (Click on the image for full-sized view.)
Friday, March 13, 2009
Seeing 2009 (#3)
Tonight's offerings are samples of my preferred prism, that of abstraction derived from ordinary surroundings. Beyond the slimmest of commentary I'll leave it for the images to inform you:
Both Stick This In Your Pipe and Snakes On A Plain were taken almost exactly two years ago, in April, 2007, at a park I frequently visit for both devotional and photographic meditations.
Polar Rock #2469 was captured earlier this week during my first 2009 lunchtime sojourn in the vicinity of my workplace.
These images are presented "straight"; creative enhancements are largely confined to cropping and adjustments to contrast.
Clicking on the images will yield full-sized versions, which I strongly recommend.
Both Stick This In Your Pipe and Snakes On A Plain were taken almost exactly two years ago, in April, 2007, at a park I frequently visit for both devotional and photographic meditations.
Polar Rock #2469 was captured earlier this week during my first 2009 lunchtime sojourn in the vicinity of my workplace.
These images are presented "straight"; creative enhancements are largely confined to cropping and adjustments to contrast.
Clicking on the images will yield full-sized versions, which I strongly recommend.
Stick This In Your Pipe
(c)2009 James W. Murray, all rights reserved.
__________
(c)2009 James W. Murray, all rights reserved.
__________
Polar Rock #2469
(c)2009 James W. Murray, all rights reserved.
__________
(c)2009 James W. Murray, all rights reserved.
__________
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Seeing 2009 (#2)
As it is rather late (what's new?) I'll likely keep this initial commentary short, to be expanded possibly tomorrow evening.
Before I begin, I'll unabashedly call for commentary (if any is merited) to be posted directly to this blog . . . as of this date (3/11/09) not a soul has offered accolades nor rebuttals, so here's your unique chance to be the first. Or not.
A modest pair of offerings in this posting (clicking on the images opens larger versions):
The first was taken in my office 24 February, in natural lighting (the afternoon sun intensely bathes my desk with light both invigorating and blinding). What have we here? As is the case for much of my work I'll leave it to the viewer to puzzle over; I hope the exercise brings some enjoyment from the mystery.
This happens to be one of several views I took of a "found object"; look for another angle in the next day or two. Here I've enhanced the contrast a bit; frankly I'm not all that satisfied with the overall contrast (and Zone System adherents hold your tongues). I toyed at length with Photoshop Blend layers and eventually tossed those experiments and will live with the Levels results applied.
The title refers to Plato's notion of Forms, one of the very few bits of philosophy I have exposed myself to over the years.
Evoking the Lincoln Memorial (block #2233)
(c)2009 James W. Murray, all rights reserved.
__________
(c)2009 James W. Murray, all rights reserved.
__________
Before I begin, I'll unabashedly call for commentary (if any is merited) to be posted directly to this blog . . . as of this date (3/11/09) not a soul has offered accolades nor rebuttals, so here's your unique chance to be the first. Or not.
A modest pair of offerings in this posting (clicking on the images opens larger versions):
The first was taken in my office 24 February, in natural lighting (the afternoon sun intensely bathes my desk with light both invigorating and blinding). What have we here? As is the case for much of my work I'll leave it to the viewer to puzzle over; I hope the exercise brings some enjoyment from the mystery.
This happens to be one of several views I took of a "found object"; look for another angle in the next day or two. Here I've enhanced the contrast a bit; frankly I'm not all that satisfied with the overall contrast (and Zone System adherents hold your tongues). I toyed at length with Photoshop Blend layers and eventually tossed those experiments and will live with the Levels results applied.
The title refers to Plato's notion of Forms, one of the very few bits of philosophy I have exposed myself to over the years.
Evoking the Lincoln Memorial (block #2233)(c)2009 James W. Murray, all rights reserved.
__________
I am blessed to work at a location which allows me to take my lunch on a quite flexible schedule, and I'm only now beginning to explore the vicinity of my building. After last week's rain-swept days I was especially enthusiastic about "bring my camera to work" day (a self-appointed occasion) , specifically to get some fresh air, physical and possibly artist exercise as a lunch hour gift to myself.
Thus the next image was taken just two days ago while I wandered the streets on the way to whatever food choice appeared appealing -- I left my office without a specific place in mind so was doubly-rewarded with two discoveries: a great pizza place and what might be considered the latest entry into my "Leaf" series. There were several similar, large trees on the street . . . and amongst that barren forest there were mere three leaves to be found, each soloist on their own spindly host.
Thus the next image was taken just two days ago while I wandered the streets on the way to whatever food choice appeared appealing -- I left my office without a specific place in mind so was doubly-rewarded with two discoveries: a great pizza place and what might be considered the latest entry into my "Leaf" series. There were several similar, large trees on the street . . . and amongst that barren forest there were mere three leaves to be found, each soloist on their own spindly host.
Perseverance (leaf #2443)
(c)2009 James W. Murray, all rights reserved.
__________
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Seeing 2009 (#1)
Too late, too tired and too cold to offer much tonight . . .
As 2009 commenced I made a quiet personal commitment to devote considerably more time and energy to the pursuit of my photography. (This is not to be confused with nor construed as an infamous New Year's Resolution.) This decision arose one day in late December or early Januray when a deeply uncomfortable - even painful-- sense enveloped me that I've criminally neglected my art for most of the past thirty years . . .
While I've applied quite of bit of energy to creating images over the course of the past few recent years (say, since c. 2003, thanks in no small part to the loving encouragement, generosity and support of my wife Julianna), still I've far too often squandered time on utterly meaningless distractions and pursuits.
Over the course of the past few months I've taken perhaps 700 images, a few of which have real potential (there are a few of which I'm especially delighted), many are mundane and not a few bear witness to those "what was I thinking?" moments.
In any even it is my intent to devote much of the rest of this journal towards sharing selected images not all of which are posted to my website (www.jwmurray.net). Unlike on my site, here I'll share some of my feelings about specific images, how they came to be, and anything else of remote relevance. And of course I'd love to read some comments on these offerings as well.
As I started out noting: this evening it is far too late (more to the point: I'm nearly exhausted), so I will post an image taken just this afternoon, but with these two caveats: (1) it is not one of my best efforts, and (2) I simply lack the energy too comment on it this evening. Perhaps tomorrow.
So, withtout further ado, here's Pyramid Wall, San Jose, 2009:
As 2009 commenced I made a quiet personal commitment to devote considerably more time and energy to the pursuit of my photography. (This is not to be confused with nor construed as an infamous New Year's Resolution.) This decision arose one day in late December or early Januray when a deeply uncomfortable - even painful-- sense enveloped me that I've criminally neglected my art for most of the past thirty years . . .
While I've applied quite of bit of energy to creating images over the course of the past few recent years (say, since c. 2003, thanks in no small part to the loving encouragement, generosity and support of my wife Julianna), still I've far too often squandered time on utterly meaningless distractions and pursuits.
Over the course of the past few months I've taken perhaps 700 images, a few of which have real potential (there are a few of which I'm especially delighted), many are mundane and not a few bear witness to those "what was I thinking?" moments.
In any even it is my intent to devote much of the rest of this journal towards sharing selected images not all of which are posted to my website (www.jwmurray.net). Unlike on my site, here I'll share some of my feelings about specific images, how they came to be, and anything else of remote relevance. And of course I'd love to read some comments on these offerings as well.
As I started out noting: this evening it is far too late (more to the point: I'm nearly exhausted), so I will post an image taken just this afternoon, but with these two caveats: (1) it is not one of my best efforts, and (2) I simply lack the energy too comment on it this evening. Perhaps tomorrow.
So, withtout further ado, here's Pyramid Wall, San Jose, 2009:
Pyramid Wall, San Jose, 2009
Bonsoir.
Bonsoir.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Lloyd M.
Last evening (Monday, February 9, 2009) I received three calls in quick succession, all of which I ignored since I was in the closing moments of an appointment.
The trio of callers bore sad news of the passing of a kind and gentle man, a friend and fellow traveler on a well-trod path: Lloyd M.
None of us knew how to absorb this sorrowful ending to a life so abruptly and prematurely lost.
Tears, yes of course; aching hearts, confusion, anger . . . and beneath it all a hint of fear. In this moment most of all mute numbness.
This young man struggled greatly to find and maintain a sense of balance - peace of mind was for him a seemingly elusive, even mercurial state. We were his friend, and he ours, exactly because we viscerally understood. So is the nature of our bond that this tragic finale was not entirely unexpected. Still, second guessing and doubt comes: if we could've just found the magic words. But in this business there is no magic -- no smoke nor mirrors, simply hard work -- trudging -- and a fine measure of divine grace.
As for me, the only sense of comfort I am able to reach as I write this is the notion that Lloyd, who made the ultimate sacrifice as a beacon for those he left behind (behold and avoid these rocky shoals!), now at long last is free from what had been his increasingly painful struggle.
He can now enjoy the peace beyond knowing of perfect and eternal Grace. He can at long last simply rest.
Here's an image of one of the last times I saw him truly happy.
(NOTE: for reasons I am too tired to puzzle out the link above does not correctly render in Mozilla Firefox, so in order to see it correctly please past the resulting URL into an Internet explorer window, or copy this into IE: http://jwmurray.net/Lloyd.htm )
If you, dear reader, have any remembrances of Lloyd and would care to share them here I would deeply enjoy the opportunity to read them.
Peace be with you.
The trio of callers bore sad news of the passing of a kind and gentle man, a friend and fellow traveler on a well-trod path: Lloyd M.
None of us knew how to absorb this sorrowful ending to a life so abruptly and prematurely lost.
Tears, yes of course; aching hearts, confusion, anger . . . and beneath it all a hint of fear. In this moment most of all mute numbness.
This young man struggled greatly to find and maintain a sense of balance - peace of mind was for him a seemingly elusive, even mercurial state. We were his friend, and he ours, exactly because we viscerally understood. So is the nature of our bond that this tragic finale was not entirely unexpected. Still, second guessing and doubt comes: if we could've just found the magic words. But in this business there is no magic -- no smoke nor mirrors, simply hard work -- trudging -- and a fine measure of divine grace.
As for me, the only sense of comfort I am able to reach as I write this is the notion that Lloyd, who made the ultimate sacrifice as a beacon for those he left behind (behold and avoid these rocky shoals!), now at long last is free from what had been his increasingly painful struggle.
He can now enjoy the peace beyond knowing of perfect and eternal Grace. He can at long last simply rest.
Here's an image of one of the last times I saw him truly happy.
(NOTE: for reasons I am too tired to puzzle out the link above does not correctly render in Mozilla Firefox, so in order to see it correctly please past the resulting URL into an Internet explorer window, or copy this into IE: http://jwmurray.net/Lloyd.htm )
If you, dear reader, have any remembrances of Lloyd and would care to share them here I would deeply enjoy the opportunity to read them.
Peace be with you.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Leaves #3
Upon close inspection I've decided that the majority of my recent leaf imagery inventory fails to meet my standards for publication, largely due to sharpness/focusing issues.
Two factors come into play here: inadequate depth-of-field (due to the fact that these large organic canvasses most often occupy far three-dimensional space than may be apparent), and movement -- even wafts of breezes barely perceptible are enough to generate significant and unwanted undulations of these finely laced veins, particularly when the scene is under considerable magnification as they are in my oeuvre.
(c)2008 James W. Murray, all rights reserved.
(Click on the image to see full sized version.)
Two factors come into play here: inadequate depth-of-field (due to the fact that these large organic canvasses most often occupy far three-dimensional space than may be apparent), and movement -- even wafts of breezes barely perceptible are enough to generate significant and unwanted undulations of these finely laced veins, particularly when the scene is under considerable magnification as they are in my oeuvre.
Nonetheless, for the sake of further Photoshop experimentation I offer up a new vision for you, this one modestly cropped from the original and adjusted for sharpness using the Smart Focus filter. Taken October 9, 2008, in my condominium complex courtyard; I encourage any and all comments . . .
(c)2008 James W. Murray, all rights reserved. (Click on the image to see full sized version.)
A New Leaf (2)
Yes, is it far too late for this . . .
Another leaf, this one more of an experienment with shooting the original in Adobe RGB mode (vs. sRGB), processing the raw using Canon's DPP (rather than converting in CS3), and adjusting the saturation a bit. (Also: maybe a more reasonable size for browers?):
Another leaf, this one more of an experienment with shooting the original in Adobe RGB mode (vs. sRGB), processing the raw using Canon's DPP (rather than converting in CS3), and adjusting the saturation a bit. (Also: maybe a more reasonable size for browers?):
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)

















