30 March 2015
I. Converted to Black and White in Snapseed:
II. Post Processed in Mextures:
Let me know which you prefer and why. Click on image to enlarge.
Pens: This week I’ve taken a leisurely approach to arise each morning. The time between my mind being fully awake and day dreaming ebbed and flowed until I stepped onto the carpet floor.
Yesterday as I amassed thoughts to guide me through the day, I was stirred by a reach for my iPhone to check the weather. The pulsing of its electronics made me contemplate it as a living breathing entity. That was scary and an illusionary truth.
It seems the world is at my disposal the minute I awake. The iPhone is like an encyclopedic force that talks about all subjects and tries to fulfill all needs.
Obviously, it lacks what human require most. You know those intangibles that shore our soul and spirits: like my morning stroll as the sun rose through the creek.
Our lives include digital maneuvering that must be countered by the slow ascent into our own minds. That place can never be supplanted by the stuff of cyberspace and its naughty lure.
I stood by the creek bank and was covered in subtle rays of the dawn’s light. The view was seductive and tranquil. The combination of slowly entering the day and slowly appreciating the gift by Mother Nature made for a cup runneth over from head to toe and toe to head. I was fully awake, yet fully drifting into a meditative state.
The hour of golden light appears twice every day–somewhere and everywhere in our vast universe. Since it needs sunlight to be visible, the sunrise and sunset ease into it or reduce it. The time after sunrise and just prior to sunset are the magical moments of splendid radiance. It’s a parcel of visual glitter that becomes a palette of low softer (though it can be very bright) light to freeze-frame in place. And it’s an apt time to hunt for landscapes.
In the Lens section are two images from the morning’s meanderings. Since it’s editing and processing week, I converted one of the dawn’s early light to monochrome and the second view to layers of fluid liquid-like colors.
Each reminded me of the morning’s acknowledgement about my interdependence upon nature and human nature and technology. It’s the good, the strange and the transformative.
Tip of the Week: When I discover a person who has found their life’s passion, I am drawn to learn more and more about their motivations. While reading about our national park system, the work of Mary Hunter Austin (1868-1934) was brought to my attention. It made my day. Now I’m awaiting the singular publication by snail mail that made her a well-known figure. Her recognition for The Land of Little Rain (1903 and reissued 1997) is a gem in the environmental world. Austin studied the California desert and dedicated herself so deeply into its language that it seems part of her ancestral lineage. She focused on the land “between the high Sierras south from Yosemite—east and south over a very great assemblage of broken ranges beyond Death Valley, and on illimitably into the Mojave Desert.” Her advocacy was directed at issues about the preservation of natural resources, especially water and national parklands. She even collaborated on projects with the master photographer Ansel Adams. Her contribution to the early environmental movement will be in my mailbox on Monday. Think of me curled up with a cup of tea and paging through her most coveted writings.
View other entries from this week’s challenge:
As always I welcome comments about this post or any part of my blog.
If you’d like to join the Photo Challenge, please click here for details. If you have any questions, please contact me. Below is a reminder of the monthly schedule with themes for upcoming Photo Challenges:
1st Monday: Nature.
2nd Monday: Macro.
3rd Monday: Black and White.
4th Monday Challenger’s Choice (Pick One: Abstraction, Animals, Architecture, Food Photography, Night Photography, Objects, Portraiture, Still Life, Street Photography, and Travel).
5th Monday: Editing and Processing with Various Apps Using Themes from the Fourth Week.