Shutter Sisters

What to Do If You’re Not at Camp Shutter Sisters

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Life is known to be unpredictable, unsteady, uneven, un- lots of things despite our best laid plans. I am sadly not at Camp, but sending good thoughts and so much love to our Shutter Sisters gathered on the west coast today. One of the things I was most looking forward to was a hefty dose of the unfamiliar and unexpected. Yet as much as I wish I was there, I’ve decided to reverse the natural instinct to be unhappy and give myself some latitude to unleash an extra dose of creativity while Camp is in session. Are you with me?

Your challenge today – Wednesday: Seek and share the unfamiliar or the unexpected.

Find something odd within a mile of your home. Turn something upside down (or inside out). Meet a stranger. Wear something funky. Shoot a view of yourself you typically wouldn’t see in the mirror. Place an object in the wrong environment. Tie a balloon to someone’s car. Pick up an inexpensive mask and leave it on the kitchen table. Put a candle in the meatloaf and make a wish. Defy the familiar.

Tag your images with #beyondcampsisters

Add your images to our Shutter Sisters Flickr group or share images in Instagram (with the tag in your image title) and leave your username in the comments so we can find and follow you. There just might be an unexpected surprise for an unsuspecting winner on Wednesday.

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Congratulations to Natalie Pigliacampo (@nataliepigliacamp on Instagram) for sharing a most awesome #beyondcampsisters photo via Instagram. Look for the red balloon. Happy to send a signed copy of “The Art of iPhoneography: A Guide to Mobile Creativity.”

(art)ifacts

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Your environment can be deceiving. Just when you think there’s nothing new left to discover in the familiar, there just might be something interesting to see. Take a few moments today to explore a familiar environment – your kitchen sink, the back porch, a corner of your cluttered desk, a glance across your bedroom, or the view on your drive to school. Stop and study the placement of artifacts and compose something artful without touching your subject. What do you see?

Scissors for cutting tops off freeze pops and a swatter for the flies. I shot this image on the barn beside the pool using the Hipstamatic app (Blanko film and John S lens). I then sharpened it a bit using the Photo fx app.

When the Background Drives the Foreground

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One of my favorite things to do when I’m moving with my iPhone on the street is to connect the action or natural placement of individuals in the foreground with intriguing backgrounds. I don’t position my subjects, but I plant my feet in relation to the background and then wait patiently until my subjects move into their proper places. This approach works well as it gives you a quick slice of time to assess the light and adjust your settings before your image falls into place.

In this case, I made this image of Renu Shah Bagaria and Jen Lemen with the Hipstamatic app on my iPhone 4 using Blanko film and the John S lens. I then opened the image in the Photo FX app and sharpened it before publishing it to Instagram while in Kathmandu, Nepal.

Let’s see the background drive the foreground for a change today.

A Little Bit Awkward and Anxious

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I love moments like this… a little bit awkward and anxious. Sometimes I can feel them coming. I get this tingling sensation of anticipation that drives me to reach for my iPhone. And then I wait. It’s like following the lift and fleeting magic of a bubble… waiting for it to pop. An odd split-second of time when objects align and there’s enough weirdness in the air to qualify as a moment meant to be preserved. I typically don’t center objects in my compositions, but this image wouldn’t have worked any other way.

Show us something a little bit awkward and anxious. Make us tilt our heads and say, “huh.”

I shot this image with my iPhone 4 using the Hipstamatic app (Blanko film and John S lens) and processed it in black and white using the Photo fx app. Learn more about The Art of iPhoneography: A Guide to Mobile Creativity.

Fixated on the Close Crop

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I remember this day clearly. December 4, 2007. My friend and business partner poured the water for tea after our meal. There were four of us huddled around the thick wooden table at Dynamic Dish, exchanging thoughts. I remember asking each of them, “What would you do if you could do anything?” At the time of that question mark, I was beginning to consider photography as a full-time profession, but had not yet convinced myself that leaving a steady business (and a substantial paycheck and benefits) was the right thing to do. The wide angle view that day would reveal leading lines pointing toward a necessary leap of faith into the blur of bokeh. But for so long, I remained fixated on the close crop. The complicated texture of the moment, an unidentifiable reflection, the fear of failure… of getting burned if I prematurely moved the mug poised to receive… goodness. It took 12 more months to take that leap. But I’ve grown to appreciate the depth and broader perspective of a wide angle view.

Do you get fixated on the close crop of today? What holds you back from the wide angle view?

Something Borrowed

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I didn’t think she needed a veil. It seemed old fashioned. Maybe excessive? When I was in second grade preparing for my First Communion, I remembered shopping with my mother for a pretty white dress to adorn the occassion, settling on a lace bodice with sheer long sleeves and a soft pleated skirt. Feminine, but not frilly. It had to feel like me. “Do you really want a veil?” my mother asked. Yes. Yes, I course I wanted a veil. That was 34 years ago.

So on the day of dress rehearsal for her First Communion in our cozy little Catholic church, my girl snuggled up close to me between instructions to whisper in my ear, “I want a veil.” Just two days before we made a mad dash to the mall to find a new dress because the hefty splint on her broken arm had rendered the delicate borrowed dress with slim sleeves no longer borrow-able from one of our closest family friends. Now I had less than eight shopping hours to fulfill the veil request. Two baseball games would consume at least five of those hours. And let’s just say access to shopping venues offering child-size veils in my small southern town would be… non-existent. Stumped, I unloaded my woes to a friend in the fellowship hall as she waited for her son, clad in a miniature suit and tie to join us.

“Borrow my daughter’s veil!” she insisted. “I still have it from her First Communion eight years ago.” Relieved and grateful, I drove all of ten minutes to my friend’s house to pick up the veil and fulfill my girl’s First Communion fashion statement. Was the veil really necessary? No. Would the day have been as special without the veil? Yes. Was it a memorable site to see my girl adorned in her borrowed veil tread softly down the center of the church toward the alter with a shy grin? Yes, indeed.

I shot this image with my Nikon D3s with a 24-70mm f/2.8 lens set at 24mm with f/6.3 aperture setting. ISO was set to 400 and I fired my speedlight. I processed it in Sepia Tone set to .41 intensity to give the image a timeless feel.

Show us something old, something new, something borrowed, or something blue.

Mobile May and Our Final Book Giveaway

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There’s something about these suspended moments of awkwardness that move me. Like when you press the pause button and catch an odd glance of something that seemed so smooth in play. I love this about still photography, and especially about iPhoneography… watching motion and pausing the action to preserve and study a sliver of time. Shot with my iPhone using the Hipstamatic app with Float film and the John S lens. Sharpened using the Photo fx app.

I’ve enjoyed following your images in the One Word Project flickr group and featuring a few of our mobile favorites in the One Word Project journal so much this month. Congratulations to keribevan and petit gris, week 4 winners of my new book, “The Art of iPhoneography: A Guide to Mobile Creativity.” On this last day of May, leave a comment about your thoughts or tips on mobile photography by 11:59pm PT and we’ll enter your name in a drawing to win the last book of Mobile May.

Many thanks to our gracious sponsor Pixiq. Pixiq, an imprint of Sterling Publishing, is not only the US & Canada publisher of “The Art of iPhoneography: A Guide to Mobile Creativity” but an awesome online resource for all things photography.

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Congratulations to Marilyn Johnson! Many thanks for your thoughts and for playing along throughout Mobile May.

From the Sideline

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“So when’s your next trip?” they ask. For the first time in a long time, I don’t have an answer. Yes, of course, there will be another trip and I’m eager for the next international documentary experience, but right now, I’m taking lots of trips to the ballfield, yelling things like “You can do it!” and “Way to hold ’em!” and “Two down, one to go!” and buying corndogs from concession stands.

In high contrast to the frayed craze of a school year winding down to the halt of summer, I must admit, sitting with my feet propped up on the fence around a baseball field watching my son and his best buddies be mobile for the better part of a Saturday and Sunday, chills me out in the best way. I love the rythm of innings, batters, and bases. The chink of a level swing sending a ball into left field and the dull thump of a fielder making the play. Quick steals and dusty slides. The intense focus of my pitcher on the mound. (The baby I hardly recognize in size L pants.) The rapid-fire sweeps on home plate by a man called “Blue.” I soak it in from the sideline, feel my heart beat, and wait for what’s to come.

What’s moving around you these days? Are you in the mix, or soaking it in from the sidelines?

I shot this image with my Nikon D3s and a 55-200mm lens with aperture set to f/5.6. ISO 250. Applied a sepia tone at .35 intensity in Aperture on my Mac.

Lens on Life: a non-profit with much to give

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If you would have tugged me to your side and whispered that I might travel to Rwanda, Tanzania, and Nepal and be blessed to document incredible wealth found in the poorest conditions a little more than two years ago, I wouldn’t have believed you. I would have been intoxicated by the idea and curious about the flutter in my heart, but no, I wouldn’t have believed you.

But it happened. Winning the Name Your Dream Assignment photography competition with Jen in May 2009 and having the opportunity to execute our Picture Hope assignment forever changed me in very profound ways. It stretched, cracked, blessed, opened, flattened, and pushed me to look at my life through a different lens. And it inspired me to create Lens on Life with support from these special people.

Lens on Life is a non-profit organization with a mission to reveal and illuminate a visual voice for the unseen, particularly children living in impoverished conditions around the world. Our first program is scheduled to launch in April with students from Koseli School in Kathmandu, Nepal. Jen and I are excited to return Nepal to teach the art of iPhoneography to these kids. I hope you’ll take a few minutes to watch this video to learn about our students, join the Lens on Life Founders Circle to share the experience with us, and put your old iPhone to good use by donating it to our camera bag for the students.

Grateful for you, Shutter Sisters, and your support.

His Bride

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I like being in his studio behind the house and listening to his stories about Vietnam, his early years as a painter and the influence of the war on his work, the similiaries and difference between his twin and himself, and the challenges of choosing to channel his creativity within the boundaries of a career as a university art professor. Richard Olsen (known as Olie by most of his students, peers and friends) talks with his hands, punctuating key phrases with gusto and passion. High on the wall is a poster-size image of this beauty sunning on the sand. “Who’s this?” I asked with a smile, pointing up at the confident woman on the wall. Raising his eyebrows, he quickly fumbled over tubes of oil paint and stacks of papers to locate and lift up this miniature replica. “That’s my bride,” he replied.