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In my previous post, I talked about how beauty can come in a grand form, as illustrated by the breathtaking view my wife and I experienced on our drive down the Pacific Coast Highway. 

This image is an example of a simpler form of beauty. 

This is an image of my cello.  Don’t be too impressed.  I own a cello.  I occasionally make some questionable noises with my cello.  I am far from being what anyone could even jokingly refer to as a cello player.  I do have the dream of being able to make something resembling music with my cello, but I am a long way away from that day.

The cello is my favorite instrument.  The maestros can create a mood that can uplift my heart while bringing tears to my eyes.  Give a listen to Dvorak’s Cello Concerto and see if it doesn’t have the same effect on you. 

 My goal with this image was to capture some of the cello’s elegance.  It is not just a beautiful instrument to hear played; it is also a beautiful instrument in its physical form.

Now I plan to spend a little time listening to that cello concerto.  I hope this image can live up to the beauty of the music.

Beauty comes in many forms.  Sometimes it’s presented in grand form as in a breathtaking sunset or a heart-lifting performance of Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony.  Other times it’s presented in simpler form as in a singular flower or a flawless individual performance of Bach’s Cello Suites.

Pardon me while I queue up both Beethoven and Bach for inspiration as I show you a couple of examples of the beauty that is all around us.  The second image will be in the next post .

The first was taken on an epic journey my wife and I took from Portland, where we were visiting our daughter, to Los Angeles, where we were going to the wedding of our niece.  If you are looking for nature’s beauty in abundance, then you need to drive the Pacific Coast Highway.  Take your time, enjoy the scenic views, the Redwood Forests, the rocky coasts, the friendly people, the solitude of Northern California and the hectic beauty of Southern California.  The next time we take that drive, I will give us a lot more time to explore the abundant and grand beauty.

I don’t remember precisely where this photograph was taken other than it being somewhere in Northern California.  We drove down a secluded road and hiked a short distance to an elevated rock formation that looked over the secluded beach.  From there, the image composed itself – a breathtaking setting with a solitary surfer playing in a wonderland.  I didn’t notice it at the time, but a seagull even posed for me on the beach.

I don’t know about you, but I can almost hear one of Beethoven’s symphonies when I see this breathtaking vista.

When I first started getting serious about photography, I had a number of pictures that I very much wanted to capture.  Think of it as a bucket list of locations, subjects, styles, etc. of images I want in my portfolio of personal favorites.  A picture of the Eiffel Tower (hyperlink) is one example.  A picture of a bald eagle souring through the air is another.  A picture of my wife standing in front of a giant redwood tree is another.  I still need to get the bald eagle photograph.

These images are generally taken for the photographer’s personal gratification.  They are often, as one judge of a recent camera-club competition pointed out, clichés.  I thought that term was a bit negative, but the judge’s point is that they are seldom unique.  They often have hundreds or thousands of very similar images on the various image-sharing services.  That doesn’t make them bad; it just limits the interest people other than the photographer will have in the photograph.

The above image fulfilled two of my bucket-list items.  And there is a chance that it is also a unique photograph.  There are countless images of lightning strikes.  There are countless images of the Hungarian parliament building on the Danube River in Budapest.  What an amazingly beautiful building in an incredible setting.

And, while I believe that there are few truly unique photographs left to be taken, I don’t think there are many of lightning striking the Hungarian Parliament building.  The second lightning strike was just good fortune.

So, the moral is – if you like the scene in front of you, take the picture.  If it’s on your bucket list, take the picture.  Do it for yourself and don’t worry about what grumpy camera-club judges think.

Contrast.  Contrast can be a strong tool to help an image stand out.  Contrast can be in the colors, tones, textures, or – if you’re lucky – between image’s subjects themselves.

This image was taken on the Donaukanal (hyperlink) in Vienna.  I took many pictures of the amazing graffiti along the canal that day.  However, seeing the couple with their feet dangling over the canal, while enjoying a peaceful lunch in the midst of the riotous graffiti made this a must have image.  Of all of those pictures I took that day, this one stood out.

Some would say that contrast is a negative: that contrasting elements compete with each other and tend to confuse rather than improve the image.  That can certainly be the case, and that might be why I chose to present this in monochrome.  The young couple enjoying the Little Danube would be lost in the bold colors of the graffiti.  By making this a monochrome image, the viewer can focus on the contrast between the wild graffiti and the relaxed young couple.  Maybe a better name would have been “Peace Among the Chaos.”

Putting my travel agent hat on for a moment.  If you have the good fortune to visit this part of the world, make sure you explore the Danube.  It is every bit as beautiful and enchanting as real travel agents will tell you.  Whether you are heading downstream toward Bratislava and Budapest or upstream toward the Wachau Valley, the trip will be worth the time spent.

Happily, some realities exceed even the grandest expectations. I understand that’s often the case the first time people see the Grand Canyon. I’m guessing the Great Wall of China evokes similar feelings.

I had this experience in Paris. 

Walking up to the Eiffel Tower was a transforming moment.  Yes, I had seen countless pictures of the Tower.  I had seen many tourist-trinket representations of the Tower.  I had seen the Tower in numerous movies and television shows.  None of them prepared me for the grandeur that is the Tower.

This is my favorite image of the seemingly hundreds I took of the Eiffel Tower during my photo walks along the Seine.  As with I Pledge Allegiance, Lioness and One Way, this is another example of the impact perspective can have on an image. 

To get this view of the tower, I took the picture lying on my back in the middle of the area directly under the tower. 

For me, this captures the imposing presence and the enormity of the Eiffel Tower.  It highlights both this distinctive landmark’s form – the beauty – and function – the architecture.

With the ubiquitous presence of cameras in phones, there aren’t very many pictures that haven’t been taken – some of them millions of times – as is the case with the Eiffel Tower. The challenge is to find new and interesting ways to capture iconic subjects.

We’re back in Dallas for this post’s image.

This image is one of my wife’s favorites.  She is a lover of modern abstract art.  It’s maybe not as abstract as some photos I’ve seen, but I think it is a strong mix of abstract shapes and colors while at the same time being realistic.  It doesn’t take much to understand that it is the image of a deteriorating and rusting building.  I particularly like the mixture of colors that are both a result of the decay and an attempt to cover or hide the decay.

That, I suppose, is the story of this image.  It is a depiction of the continuing struggle between the creations of mankind and the forces of nature.  Mankind can temporarily win these battles through vigilance, but the forces of nature almost always win in the end.

This image was another taken on a camera club scavenger hunt.  This one was at Fair Park in Dallas, home of the famous Texas State Fair.  Fair Park is a good place for photography even when the fair isn’t in session as it has some amazing art deco architecture, a great Ferris wheel and, of course, Big Tex, who stands tall (fifty-five feet tall) and personally greats all fair goers.  If you are lucky enough to attend the fair, be sure to try one of the fried food concoctions introduced every year, and don’t miss the pig races.

I love water. I love being near water. I love being on water. I love being in water. I love the sound of the surf. I love the smell of the ocean air. I love taking pictures that include water. And despite all of that my family settled in land-locked Dallas, Texas. Go figure.

This image isn’t terribly unique. I’ve seen a number of versions of it in many colors. I saw a breathtaking version taken in the western United States on a photographer’s website recently. That one was taken at sunset and had a beautiful pink hue.

This image was taken in the morning blue hour, standing on the wall that surrounds the historic old town area of Dubrovnik, Croatia. The blue hue; the reflection of the sun on the Adriatic Sea; the lone tree that stands proudly on the top of the middle landform, as if to say “hey, over here, take my picture” all speak to me.

This is a particularly peaceful image to me. The early morning calm waters make me feel optimistic about the day ahead.

As an aside, Dubrovnik is a great small city sitting in a beautiful place. If you like history, Dubrovnik has many generations worth to offer, including the very recent war that occurred when the former Yugoslavia broke apart. Make sure to venture up the Srd mountain (really a big hill) to walk through the museum commemorating the brave Croatians who stood their ground while under Serbian attack. You can also relish the unique character of the old town while you gaze upon the portions of the fortress that were part of King’s Landing in Game of Thrones.

Apologies for sounding like a travel agent, but Dubrovnik is a truly beautiful and unique place.

Have I mentioned that I love taking photo walks?  Given that the vast majority of those walks are in towns and cities, or in this case more of a hamlet, I take a good number of pictures featuring windows and doors and other parts of buildings.  I have quite a few such pictures coming in future posts, but I think this one, “Doll House”, is my favorite.

This was taken on a daytrip out of Prague to a small town in southern Czechia.  I said earlier that my pictures are taken within walking distance of my hotel or metro station.  This is an expansion of that except that it was within walking distance of the train station after a couple of hours on the train.

As an aside, I love traveling by train.  I am jealous of Europeans and Asians for their train systems.  It is unfathomable that there isn’t a high-speed train running between the four great cities of Texas.  It is ridiculous that is it difficult to take a train from Dallas to Chicago.  I don’t understand why our great country can’t encourage transportation via the most relaxing and romantic means available.  When in Europe I will take the train whenever possible.  As a result, I also like to take images of train stations.  But I digress. . .

This image was on the walk from the train station to the touristy center of the small town.  It would have been easy to miss if my wife hadn’t conditioned me to keep my eye open for interesting windows.

One generally accepted compositional guideline is to have an odd number of elements.  Three elements arranged as a triangle is good.  Elements arranged in an s-shaped curve is also a good composition.  And, of course, the prominent aspects of the image should be placed according to the rule of thirds . 

Based on this guidance, isn’t it bad to have four windows in this image?  At least they are almost placed according to the rule of thirds.  Maybe it’s the street sign on the side of the house that balances the four windows.

I don’t know but to me this image just works.  That’s why the rules are really guidelines and why it’s okay to break those rules every once in a while.

I like how the pinkish/peach color of the house makes it look like it could be a playhouse.  I also like that there is something to draw the eye to each of the windows.

And I especially like the dolls in the lower left window that are watching the stream of visitors walking by, welcoming them their beautiful little town, and wishing everyone a good day and a pleasant visit.

Dallas has its own area where graffiti and other creative endeavors tend to flourish. It is a section of downtown that is separated from the rest of the city by an unfortunately placed freeway.

Dallas is a city built around the automobile, so it’s no surprise that the city leaders would prioritize an interstate over the cohesiveness of the community. There is, however, a silver lining to that interstate. The semi isolation of the Deep Ellum district has made it into a little creative mecca with some very impressive graffiti, a great music scene, and an eclectic food and shopping area. This isn’t meant to be a “bash Dallas” or “Sell Deep Ellum” piece. I mention all of this for context this posts image.

As you might
guess, this was taken in Deep Ellum.  My
camera club had a scavenger hunt in the area, and this is one of my images from
that Saturday morning.  Interestingly, this was taken on the same morning as Rising Above. I try to do photo
walks in Deep Ellum periodically because of images like this.

I love that the
cactus is seemingly telling a visitor to the building that the entrance is
“that way.”  One comment from a reviewer was
that the cactus directed the eye off of the image.  I don’t find that to be the case.  My eye is caught by the fire-like graffiti on
the bricks and retreats back to the red and orange bricks, only to start the
journey all over at the cactus.

I am lucky to
live in a city that has a very active photography club.  It has been in existence since the 1930s and
has some amazing photographers.  If you
want to become a better photographer, there is nothing quite like competing in
camera club competitions.  These happen
on a monthly basis and include both print and projected (digital)
competitions.  It helps to have thick skin,
as the judges can be very pointed in their evaluations.  But the feedback received is invaluable in
helping to understand how to become a better photographer.

It’s time for
another Deep Ellum photo walk.  I wonder
how the cactus has fared since it gave me directions to “Enter That Way.”

Regrets.  I try not to have regrets.  Despite that, I do have a few photography-related regrets.  For instance, I regret I wasn’t a more experienced photographer when I was taking pictures on safari in South Africa.  I regret I didn’t get out of bed early for an amazing sunrise in Montreal.  I regret I waited so long in my life to graduate from snapping pictures to becoming a photographer (the trip to South Africa was when I started to appreciate what it meant to be a photographer).

This image, taken on a photo walk in Vienna, or rather, Wien, Austria, was the source of another regret.  Not in the image itself.  There is something about the mixture of colors and the irreverent graffiti that draws me to this image.  No, the regret is that it was an image that I took almost in passing. 

I can still picture the street corner where I took the image and recall that I was also drawn to the building on the other side of the street and the view of the street itself.  I only took a few snaps of this scene and moved on.

Ah, to have those ten minutes back.  I would have loved to have taken more shots and approached the scene from a variety of perspectives.  As it was, I lost way too many precious pixels when cropping to get to this composition.  I should have walked across the street so I could have gotten this image without needing to do that crop (another way of saying I wish I would have gotten this composition in camera).

Patience, young photographer, patience.

Reflecting on the blog post where I ruminated on the use of graffiti in photography – that image had the seeing-hand graffiti which, by itself, is art.  Including the seeing hand as an important component of a broader scene, in my mind, made that image art.

The graffiti in this image isn’t meant to be art.  On its own it’s offensive vandalism.  That vandalism, however, adds visual depth and grittiness.  It helped; or rather, it was necessary, that the color of the graffiti – the reds and greens – matched the reds and greens of the structure and of the bicycle.  Serendipity at its best.

I strive for images such as this one on my photo walks, which probably means I will never find another scene as perfect.  Ah, to have those ten minutes back.

By the way, I highly recommend Vienna/Wien.  It is a beautiful and, despite the graffiti, clean city.  And if you want to see some amazing graffiti, go to the Donaukanel, the branch of the Danube that runs through the city.  An area has been set aside for graffiti artists to show their impressive talents.   A Peaceful Afternoon is one of my favorites from this area.

Oh, and one other thing.  If you find the spot in Vienna where this image was taken, walk down the street about two blocks.  There’s a nice little indoor/outdoor café that we really enjoyed.