Windows For the Soul - Photography

Mushroom effects

This is one of my pet-projects. On an old log, or on what is left of it, in my parents’ backyard I have been following the life of these mushrooms (Trametes Versicolor, aka Turkey Tail Mushroom) for a couple of years now. Every week, before my usual sunday lunch, I check on them. Their exotic aspect does not suggest that they could be of any interest, at least from a gastronomic point-of-view. However, they are actually commonly consumed, for example as tea, they have been used in traditional medicine (e.g. Traditional Chinese Medicine) and they even seem to have promising qualities in the treatment of cancer. They also provide an interesting photography subject, at least for the photography enthusiast with no better subject available at the moment. In this shot, the speedlight and the underexposure highlighted the white rims of the mushrooms, concealing (albeit not totally as I would have preferred) the grass on the ground in the corners of the photo.

Trametes Versicolor from above perspective
Nikon D7000, Nikon 50mm f/1.8, ISO 200, 1.3sec, f/22, Tripod, SB-28 off-camera.

Links for examples of sites with information on this type of mushroom: Wild Brunch Mushrooms and American Cancer Society.

Look over your shoulder

Quite often, when I am out and about to take a few shots of the sunset (or sunrise, for that matter) I end up missing great opportunities for some colourful photos because I forget to look behind my back. Facing west, obsessed with catching the full colour pallet of the sky, whilst trying to avoid burning part of the shot by the sun, I tend to forget to look around. This was not one of those cases, though.

Coloured skiy Dusk by the river
Nikon D7000, Nikon 50mm f/1.8, ISO 500, 1/60, f/9.0, Tripod.

A photographer's dull life or creative jealousy?

A post by John Schell (Turning Around That Creative Jealousy) on stoppers.com brought me back to the subject on a previous post. Basically, the question could be summarised as something like “why does my work stink?” I imagine that many of those who love photography but are only newbies or even enthusiasts often look at their shots and think: “Sh**! What happened to the photo I thought I had taken? What have I done?” And things get worse when we look at the work of others and realize how poor our portfolio is. Sometimes I get quite blown away with some photos I see on the web. The jealousy meter would not reach the red line if all those shot were taken by real pros, with real pro gear, in dream-only scenarios and stuff like that. The problem is that often enough those jaw-dropping shots are taken by amateurs, with amateur gear, in everyday scenarios. How can one live with the quality of one’s work? How can one not give up in hopeless frustration? Too often we can find people selling their gear for confessed lack of use. I wonder if this is not a sign of forfeiting to creative jealousy.
Creative Jealousy, as John Schell called it on his post, must not lead to forfeiting one’s dream of being able to capture his vision of the world through photography. This jealousy must be accepted as natural. Recognising it is, indeed, liberating. If you don't feel it at all, you are probably wrongly convinced that what you do is great and you face the risk you being ridiculous. Just go through all the profiles on Flickr and such and when you find people looking for meaningless compliments you will see a lot of that. However, just feeling that Jealousy but failing to recognise it may lead you to hide what you do, not daring to expose yourself to honest criticism. Once you acknowledge the true (small) size of your work, you accept what you are and become much more open to get slammed in the face with criticism. Of course, much can be justified with differences in gear, in subjects, places, opportunities, time available, etc., but when deep down you accept that what you do is just so-so, you are truly ready to start learning. Acknowledging that most of what goes wrong in my photos is my own doing is the only way to improve. Understanding what went wrong is a condition for you to go back, to take my time, not to rush, to correct your settings and try to do it properly. Many times, though, it is not possible, either because that dawn is gone, the bird has flown or the skills are just too short. Even when this is the case, there is surely a learning outcome.
The work of others is more and more cause for admiration rather than true jealousy. The more I struggle to get results that I can be happy with, the more I admire the work of others but also the more I understand how often there is so much post processing into some photos, sometimes way too much. In the end, what really matters is how I feel about my photos, more than what others do, as long as I keep my feet on the ground...

Autumn sunset_7SC_2308
Nikon D7000, Nikon 50mm f/1.8, ISO 400, 1/40, f/8, Tripod.