Animals

Dec

2014

A Dog’s Life

The year is coming to an end, they tell me. Another one ticked off the list. Many will look back; still others will look forward. Some will tally regrets; some will make promises; some will set goals and tasks. But really, if you want to change and choose it, you will. An artificial marker denoting a new beginning will make little difference. I envy my dog. He welcomes each day with the same demeanor: he’s happy for the opportunity, he’s attentive to the moment. Provided food, water, shelter, and loving attention he worries not about the day, or the date.

Except Sunday. Sunday is hike day. He can smell it in the air and becomes another dog altogether.

Sep

2013

Sketches: Out of the Fog

It has been a while.

I thought posting here once a week would be easy. It is not. But, that is the nature of anything worth pursuing, no? If it were easy many would be doing it. The challenge pushes us; demands of us; holds us accountable.

And so I’m being pushed, and being demanded of, and being held accountable. Mostly by – and to- myself. Not long ago I wrote about managing one’s inputs. About having higher standards for what is allowed into our lives, and how that affects our art; our living. My challenge to myself was to expose myself to better art, better literature, better movies. To separate the wheat from the chaff, as it were. I think it is working. But it has also left a hole here where I try to showcase my work.

I’ve been working. I’ve been shooting and learning and growing and challenging to work with the limits currently affecting my shooting time, my processing time, my editing time. I’ve been focused on exploring my projects more deeply and not giving in to the temptation to post.

My work hasn’t been up to par for myself lately. I haven’t been satisfied (welcome to the artist’s life, I am told)! I’m still not, but the fog is lifting a bit. And out of the fog, comes a dog.

Big Dogs, Little dogs.

Black and white dogs.

Go, dog, go!

Jan

2013

Sketches: A Nervous Habit

Click on the image to view larger

Dec

2012

Sketches: Be|Longing

Every “in” group creates an “out” group.

Nov

2012

Sketches: 6 Wheeler

17 year old Eloy, apprentice horseshoer, prepares to take 2 guest children for an ATV ride in the first snow of the season during the family Matanza in the mountains in New Mexico. Meanwhile the family dog, Buddy, eyes a place for himself.

Nov

2012

Sketches: Onlooker

A Native American boy watches the International Indian Finals Rodeo from a catwalk at the Tingley Coliseum in Albuquerque, New Mexico. September 2012.

May

2012

It’s not for me to know…

“It’s not for me to know; it’s for me to find out (discover).” This thought is what came to me as I browsed through some William Albert Allard images on the National Geographic site online. Allard, a 50 year contributor to the Geographic, is known for his incredible use of color as a compositional tool as well as his intimate stories in light other photographers wouldn’t choose to use.

What struck me as I looked at his images is how close he gets to his subjects. I’m not talking about positional distance, although he does that too. I mean how intimate the images become. It is as if he captures that essence of a moment that shows the subjects in all their three dimensional human depth. It is as if he manages to make an image from inside the subject’s defenses, from beyond the mask.

And even more, what Allard manages to capture in these images is not only the subject, but a piece of himself. And in doing so he captures a piece of me. Repeatedly I’ve found myself looking at an image thinking, “I know that feeling!” There is a piece of me in those images, and I imagine there is a piece of Allard, and of you too. That is good photography!

So why do I share all this? Well, I try to be better and better at photographing. I’m trying to learn what makes a good image and I’m trying to learn how to do it myself. A friend of mine suggested not too subtly that I not collect my own work but rather collect the good works of others. He suggested this mostly to spur along my artistic efforts, I know. And he has succeeded. So, I’ve been perusing the works of others including Allard, Steve McCurry, Larry Towell, Martin Parr, Yousuf Karsh and others. and I keep asking myself, “how did/do they do that?”

That question is not about the technical aspect of an image; I can figure that part out. It’s about the access; it’s about the edit; it’s about the moment; it’s about the intimacy; it’s about recognizing what matters out of all the uncontrollable chaos that exists in the world swirling around us all the time. And I realize, it is not for me to know by looking at others’ work; it is for me to discover – in the world, in front of my camera, in my images. These photographers managed to capture the images they did because they went seeking that intimacy. They let themselves become known and they let themselves discover others.

They got close, really close, and found that reflection of themselves in others and made an image of that. So, the question then arises, is how do I find that reflection of myself in my subjects, in the world? And show it?

Mar

2012

Bosque del Apache, Part 2

In my previous post I showed a quick series about the Geese and Sand Hill cranes at Bosque del Apache, a National Wildlife Refuge about an hour south of Albuquerque, New Mexico. It’s a photographer magnet.

We had found a field full of birds, out of which came the images in the previous post, but soon they decided to move on to their nighttime location.

We decided jump ahead of the birds to go to an area known as “The Flight Deck.”

The “Flight Deck” is an observation station placed in the flooded fields at a favorite resting spot for the birds. Word has it that thousand of birds usually spend the night here…as well as several zealous photographers. This time the birds landed at a neighboring field without a deck. They tend to do that if there are predators nearby. So all that was left was a gaggle of photographers with impossibly large lenses, the water, and the sunset.

Feb

2012

Bosque del Apache, Part 1

Not far from Albuquerque, where I live, is a National Wildlife Refuge with a name that harkens back to another time and another people: Bosque del Apache. Each year thousands upon thousands of Sandhill Cranes and Canadian Snow Geese, as well as numerous Bald Eagles, make this land their winter home. It is a special place in this enchanted land that attracts wildlife and amateur photographers from around the world. Curiously, a majority of New Mexicans never visit.

The first sign we were coming close (other than the new welcome station and rustic pay station) was actually a sound-a distant call of a goose high overhead, similar to a foghorn but shorter in duration. Soon enough, a squadron of Snow Geese emerge out of the late afternoon sun, high enough to touch the clouds.

Sign of the birds exists underfoot as well as millions upon millions of footprints crisscross themselves over every inch of land that allows their imprint.

Before long the squadron leads us to a landing strip-a farmer’s field. Word has it the farmers in the area support the winter migration by providing food for the birds.

But this is just an intermediary stop; a last stop to catch a breath before heading to their nighttime lodgings and the geese arrive and depart seemingly of one mind in a cacophony of sound. (click on the play button bellow to get a sense of the continual sound that occurs with these birds. For a full experience, let the audio play as you view the following images. Feel free to click on the images for a Lightbox-type viewing experience.)

Snow Geese Cacophony by Brian Miller

As the sun dips the birds begin their last flight of the day and head toward their sleeping grounds…