Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Probably no one will ever understand this photo, and that's okay.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
- Rob Will Bulloch, quoted in SUU: The First Hundred Years
It makes me stop and think for minute to myself. What roads am I walking today that others may walk in the future? What am I doing so that others may stand on my shoulders? What am I doing to make better opportunities for those that may follow me? And in short, what difference am I making?
Monday, June 9, 2008
The Founders Walkway extends from the Founders Monument across the campus to where Old Main stands on the east end.
I was about two months into the Sharsmith Project when I had to go to Phoenix for business. I had two of my younger sisters with me along for the ride, and we arrived in Cedar City at about 10:00 PM. There were snow drifts a couple of feet deep all over the city and it was still snowing that night when we arrived. I settled them into the hotel and I told them that I would not be back for a couple of hours. I took my camera, which was a Nikon N80 with Fuji Pro160S film, and wandered out into the night. I remember being filled with a sense of extreme awe at the beauty of it all. The lights and the falling snow. I never really made it to the upper campus, and I wish that I had, because it was probably beautiful. The footprints in this photograph are mine, after I had wandered in and then wandered back out. I looked back and I loved the way it all looked. The lights, the snow, the footprints. It definitely seemed magical to me. I had no idea if anything had worked until I got back to Salt Lake, and processed the film because I wasn't shooting digital yet. I was out there taking shots on the campus until about 2:00 am and I was totally soaked with snow by that point. I was freezing, but I had a certain warmth in my soul. This is really when the Sharsmith project began. I think that these images are the earliest images that actually made it into the final collection.Preface and Index for the Sharsmith Project
Sunday, June 8, 2008
Up until now, everything I have posted has been taken in the last six months, but I am about to post some older stuff. I stumbled into the Sharsmith folder the other day and I started looking at all of those images. The Sharsmith project was a collection of photos that I took in the early part of 2006. They are of the Southern Utah University campus and buildings. I feel like posting some of them, and so I am going to over the next few days. I am also going to add some commentary about how each shot was taken.
They are dedicated entirely to Camela Mckee Hall, because she inspired me to take them. When the final collection of fifty images was presented to her, she looked through them four of five times and then said, "Alma, you seriously should do this on the side." It was some of the last words that she spoke to me. I guess that's one reason why I accept side assignments today. I always remember those words when someone asks me to shoot something for them.
Thursday, June 5, 2008
Last December when I went to California around my birthday, I was on my way back from Santa Barbara and decided that I would stop by the Sequoia National Forest. I had an extra day to spend and I figured what the heck. Anyway, the day before I took this photograph I was driving up the coast and it rained all day. I got to Springville very late and stayed there at the Springville Inn that night, which was a charming and very nostalgic feeling cozy country inn. The next morning it had cleared off and the morning was beautiful. Springville is at the south end of the forest and I decided to drive to the Northern end to see General Sherman, the largest tree.
I took a dirt road up over the mountains and at one point I stopped and took this photograph. There were light clouds which filtered the light and made things seem a bit mystical. It really was wonderful country, and as I drove along I was filled with a calm serenity. I wouldn't mind going back there someday.
Monday, June 2, 2008
This time, I was running up the side of a mountain. The sad part is that I had been up there an hour before and I had looked at the clouds and the sun, and said to myself, "Self, if you go down and get the camera, hike back up and wait for an hour, there might be some magic here." I decided that I wouldn't. I was out to enjoy the woods and check out the Good Medicine area, not particularly to photograph anything. So I hiked down. At my car, I debated again with myself as I watched the sun lower. I even got out my camera and sat there on the curb for a minute looking at the sun. I took a quick picture of the church steeple next door and then I just left. About 15 minutes and five miles later I sat in the Arby's parking lot and the sun popped below the clouds. Suddenly, the light that I had suspected was coming was there hitting me right in the face and dancing off everything around me. The light was so pretty that I started to go nuts. I was stuck in the drive through lane wishing that I could get out. I simply could not resist, and I decided to go back. I drove back to the trail head, debated for a second what lens to take, decided by grabbing my whole camera bag and tripod, and proceeded to run up the trail. I quickly realized that I was not going to make it to where I wanted to be before the light was gone. So I stopped right there and took this shot. I almost missed it. I didn't have a tripod mount on my big lens, and when I tried to quickly put it on, I got the wrong hole and the the whole affair wouldn't mount on my tripod. In a moment of desperation I finally bagged the tripod and handheld this shot, which worked fine anyway.
The light didn't last long, but shooting over the tops of the trees made for an interesting shot. Two minutes completely changed the whole scene, and while sunset photos are a dime a dozen, I sort of like this one. I probably couldn't have timed it better if I had tried. It always amazes me how my mood bleeds into the photograph. I was in a most calm and serene state of mind, and I think it shows up here in this image.
Sunday, June 1, 2008
Some time ago, I donated a framed copy of one of my finest photographs to a fund raiser that my niece was involved with. She asked me to, and I thought it might be interesting to see the public response. Towards the end of the event, I had a lady come up to me fighting back tears, and she said that if that photograph was in her house, it would change her life. I've wondered a lot about that. Could it really be true? Does, or can, fine art change peoples' lives? And if it does, is it worth pursuing it's creation? Or is it better to focus on something else that more directly affects a person's life?
I dunno...I really don't.