Michigan Artisan

What's Left Behind

2011-07-22T14:51:00.000-07:00

The wind at Sleeping Bear creates art. Here in the hollows the wind is funneled and intensified and only the weightiest of the dune composites can resist. And even these bulky bits of shell and gravel are aligned into artistic "waves."
There are times in my life when God's wind blows over me. It's not hurricane force — just a steady, compelling wind. There has been neither the storm of tragedy nor flood of blessing that wakes my soul — just the dogged, daily, awareness of a God who pursues me. What is left behind is the weightier things — the things of substance; the things that really matter; things of great beauty — relationships with family, friends, neighbors, and the need to take care of their physical and spiritual needs. Thanks be to God for His consistent, persistent love.

The Right Combination

2011-04-10T17:29:00.000-07:00

I was at the dunes last week and enjoyed a beautiful calm, clear, frosty sunrise. I spent the first 45 minutes up on the high bluffs overlooking Sleeping Bear Bay and enjoyed the patterns and textures revealed by the exquisite morning light. But I have to admit I probably wasn't as attentive to the visual gifts as I should have been. It was the migrating waterfowl and shorebirds that made me stop and smile. Loons, buffleheads, mallards, Canadian geese, sandpipers, mergansers and others — their individual voices and their splashing bounced off the the flat waters of the Manitou passage.
As the sun burned off the frost on the highest ridges I skidded down through the ghost forest swale to the shoreline. From above I had noticed a slim line of white that defined the water's edge. I had assumed it was just a little ice left from the larger ridges of mid-winter. But as I got closer I noticed its crystalline nature. Beautiful shards of thin ice all stacked at the waters edge just as neatly as if someone had gently broken them and placed them piece by piece on top of one another. Another gift from the Sleeping Bear. As I made my few shots I imagined the perfect combination of events that created this construct. A perfectly still night (and I mean perfectly still) with freezing temps that allowed a thin layer of ice to form, followed by a a gentle morning breeze that raised just 5 or 6 inch swells — just enough to brake the ice and push it onshore. Or maybe it was a passing lake ship that created enough of a swell to make the miracle. I had to remember to not let my curiosity kill the moment. Whatever right combination of things made this happen, I'm grateful and I just need to accept and wonder at it's beauty.

Give Me Time

2011-03-20T18:11:00.000-07:00

I find that revisiting things that I started working on months if not years ago can be a good thing. There is something about putting some distance between you and moments of creative energy that helps refine the image. I wouldn't say it's true all the time — sometimes immediacy is a part of the story you have to tell, but in many cases, like the image I put together here, it needed time to "cook." When you're out there in the field there are often a few visuals that grab your attention and you can become a little fixated on just those objects or plays of light, and when you come back and sort through what you shot you are looking for those few visual cues. But given a little time you begin to see new things that were going on and your brain starts to make connections between one visual and the next. Of course those connections often come to me in the middle of the night and then it keeps me awake — but that's another story. I've been reading a lot about Andrew Wyeth lately, and how he set aside paintings for long periods before finally finishing them. If I remember correctly there was one painting that he started and gave up on, then his kids needed a nice flat board to put their toy train layout on, so the back side of this painting served them very well. Then, years later, at the encouragement of a friend he decided to pull the old piece out and finish it up and he was very pleased with the result.
So I've resolved not to be in a hurry to finish my pieces, and to not totally give up on making an image from a piece that doesn't work right away. Just give me some time.

The Old Tree

2011-03-05T07:55:00.000-08:00

I wonder what this tree has seen? It stands at the center of a long abandoned homestead in the Port Oneida district of Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore. It wouldn't surprise me if the tree is 150 years old. Maybe the family who homesteaded here picked this spot because of this beautiful young maple that shaded the yard. Maybe they planted the tree in anticipation of the shade it would provide. I wonder if it watched young men leave home to fight in the Civil War? They were probably young men who could barely speak English. I wonder how many family members gathered under it's branches for a 4th of July picnic? And how many children climbed into the branches to wave goodbye to their neighbors as their horse and wagon headed home.
I suppose the tree saw and heard its share of tragedy. Maybe a child was lost to influenza or a grandparent to a farm accident. The soil here is rather poor so I don't suspect it was an easy life. The tree probably watched family members leave for extended periods as they picked up jobs in neighboring communities to supplement their income. Maybe the whole family left for Detroit in the 40's to make planes and tanks for the war effort.
When did the family finally abandon this farm? It must have been hard to leave this beautiful place. I wonder if they could have ever imagined how desirable and valuable this land is today?
For me as an artist it's a place of beauty — but as I walk around the old tree I can't help but wonder.

Broken

2011-02-02T16:25:00.000-08:00

I have long held the belief that the reason so many people in "modern" society have rejected or neglected their faith is because they distance themselves from the power of the natural world. Many of us work in controlled environments, we get around in our private glass and steel bubbles on wheels with air conditioning, surround sound, navigation systems, and voice activation. We have homes that condition our water and our air and bring us explorers standing on the edge of volcanoes in high definition at 52 inches diagonally — while tucked in our overstuffed chair. We walk to the kitchen and open a door to a cool stash of entrees that can be popped in the microwave for three-and-one-half minutes to provide us an exotic steamed meal.
Every once in awhile we get a pint-sized dose of reality when a thunderstorm interrupts our day at the lake, but we never stick around to experience the full effect of the storm. We retreat to our autos, or cottage, or park pavilion until it passes.
I wonder what it was like to take a covered wagon across America on the Oregon trail in 1840? Out on the great plains you see a massive storm build on the horizon. There is little you can do but hope and pray that it will dissipate before it reaches you. And when it doesn't, you huddle in the wagon. The leaky patched canvas is more a liability than protection as the first violent wind gusts are caught in these prairie sails and rock the wagon from side to side. Your hair stands on end each time the lightening cracks. Deafening thunder seems to roll continuously. Horizontal rain and hail crush the tall grass around you. You are totally vulnerable for most of an hour.

In today's world we're pretty good at avoiding vulnerability.
Looking at Little Traverse Bay this past weekend I marvel at the incredible energy in the form of wind and water that snapped these thick slabs of ice and then stacked them up on the end of the bay. Some slabs were at least eight inches thick and must have weighed thousands of pounds. I think how easily I could be broken, even though I'm playing it safe in the way I conduct my life. I am really vulnerable. It provides a lot of comfort to me that I belong body and soul to a God who is much greater than myself.

Into the Woods

2010-12-18T13:01:00.000-08:00

I just had to walk into the woods. I think it's where imagination lives.
I imagine how much fun it would be to construct a tree house environment in such a place. All these nice straight trees are lined up in nice straight rows — making it easy to create a whole other world about 30 to 40 feet up. Just lash some horizontal poles and lay down some slab wood as a foundation — creating a house where chickadees are your neighbors.
And how much fun it would be to just play games in this woods — the trees providing the streets and alleys for tag and capture the flag.
And on a hot summer day, just disappearing into the woods, enjoying the cool shade, and laying down on a soft bed of pine needles under a flickering light canopy.
And it certainly was fun for my visual imagination.
Some people don't think they have an imagination. That's not true. They just haven't stopped the car along the road and walked into the woods. The folks at your destination can wait. Come on, you've all seen those lines of pine trees in your peripheral vision — alternating flashes of light and dark. Next time just pull over and walk into the woods.

Time in a Bottle

2010-12-05T13:25:00.000-08:00

The last two weeks I've been having these flashbacks to Christmas when I was a boy. Yah, you always have that happen around this time of year, but for some reason the memories seem real vivid this year. What's up with that? I think it's a combination of the smell of Christmas trees, chocolate, and mixed nuts that activate my brain's memory banks.
I remember the pressure of the church Christmas program. I was good at the memorization of my lines, but the fear of performing in front of crowds was a killer. I remember at least one program I missed because I "lost my lunch" on the way out the door — heading to church.
I remember anticipating the opening of presents. My parents were always very generous people so there were many packages with my name on them and I spent a lot of time trying to guess the contents. And mom was a great baker — tons of good eats. Mom was also very creative so she checked out all the do-it-yourself Christmas decorations in Better Homes and Gardens and picked out a few for us to try. Being the creative sort, I could really get into that.
Then there was the neighborhood sledding hill. I great place except for one little issue — the telephone pole at the bottom on the left. Stay on course and it was no problem, but should one of your co-sled-riders drag their feet on the wrong side — well, you were destined to add to the red snow around the pole. Years later, at a reception after the presentation of a multi-media piece I had created, a kind older lady congratulated me and we started talking. She asked me what part of town I grew up in. It wasn't long and I discovered that I was talking to the lady who owned the the neighborhood hill property. She told me how the insurance companies had told her to keep the kids off the hill — but she didn't have the heart to do it. It was great to have the opportunity to thank her for the years of sliding fun.
Christmas memories are great — most of the time. I was very privileged, but for some, I'm sure, there is pain in Christmas memories. As our pastor said this morning — Christmas is really not about the past but about anticipation — and not just about anticipation of Jesus's first entrance into the world but that there will be a second entrance, and that entrance will usher in an eternity of glory and joy — and absolutely no pain — simply believe it and it will be yours.

Blessings

Bob

After the Leaves Leave

2010-11-29T18:09:00.000-08:00

This part of the year is often overlooked in the succession of seasons — after the colors and before the snow. For me, it’s an exciting time -- simply because it is often overlooked. The beauty is there -- it’s just in places that we don’t often look. Since the leaves are gone the sun can filter down to the forest floor. Since we’re getting close to the shortest day of the year, the sun is lower in the sky and the shadows are long. The leaves have made a wonderful carpet on the floor. The sky can be very dramatic as the cold fronts push through. Most times when I head to the beach there is no one else around — I enjoy the solitude. The beach is also devoid of footprints and evidence of other human activity — that’s one thing about the beach — the wind and waves erase the slate very quickly. On top of everything, my schedule seems to loosen up a bit so the opportunity to get out and collect a few images is more frequent.Yes, there are probably a few more grey days than other times of the year --but “soft light” is an advantage in some cases.
So there’s a lot to love about late fall. Greet each other with a warm hug to help take away the chill and let your smiles be the sunshine.

The Michigan Hurricane

2010-10-31T04:52:00.000-07:00

Had some interesting days last week here in Michigan. Several people I talked to said that the only other day that they experienced winds that strong was on November 10, 1975 — the day the Edmund Fitzgerald sank in Lake Superior. I had to get out a couple times and experience it myself. There was an interesting prelude to the storm as alternating "waves" of rain and wind and sunny skies passed through. The most striking moment was when a beautiful double rainbow formed as a storm passed while I was at the state park in Petoskey — late afternoon.
I decided to head down to The Charlevoix area and visited the beaches at Fisherman's Island and Norwood. Norwood was a last minute alternate as I found that the road to Fisherman's was blocked due to a power line down. At the Norwood beach I was struck by the rainbows formed in the blowing spray from the waves (see below). Eventually I was able to get into Fisherman's Island where the show was all about the the giant plumes of spray kicked up as the waves crested. The island, a natural barrier that juts out into the lake, causes the wave action to curl around it so on the north side of the island the waves approach the beach heading south — directly into the wind in this case. Just as the waves would crest the wind gust would blow the wave backward in large arcs. With the background of late autumn trees on the island it presented a wonderful place for picture making.
Hope you enjoy these images from the Michigan Hurricane.

Sky Islands

2010-10-30T07:39:00.000-07:00

Returned from Green Valley (just South of Tucson Arizona) last week . Really enjoyed visiting with my sister-in-law and brother-in-law — great people and gracious hosts. It was a visit where we just kicked back and relaxed. The only thing on my agenda was to do a workshop at the Green Valley Camera Club, and that was really a pleasure because I met all sorts of enthusiastic photographers who shared their experiences and encouraged me in my work as an artist. If you’re into photography and looking for a great place to ride out the winter — Green Valley is the place. They have a fantasstic photo club with great facilities (large computer lab and matting and framing facilities) and lots of field trips.
My lovely wife and I did get away for one day trip that included Kirtchner Caverns and Chiricahua National monument. Unfortunately, you can’t take a camera into the caverns, but experiencing the cavern’s forms and textures is inspiring and well worth it.
Chiricahua was beautiful. The National Monument is refered to as a sky island — a place where a series of mountainous peaks rise from the Arizona flatlands. The distinguishing feature of this region are the stone columns or hoodoos that appear to be the ruins of some great lost civilization but are only the result of the forces of nature. We spent too little time there to really get any images that are a meaningful representation of the area but we did sneak in a short hike that we enjoyed thoroughly and I’ll share a couple images with you here.

Hiking the Natural Bridge trail

Opposites

2010-09-25T11:50:00.000-07:00

I've always been intrigued by how often nature seems to show contradictory behavior. Years ago, the US Forest Service used to jump to the rescue of the great forests by taking extraordinary measures to put out all forest fires. Now there are times when they let some sections burn or even set forest fires (controlled burns) Why? Because they discovered that some trees and plants only regenerate if they have been through a fire. So something as destructive as fire causes new life — doesn't seem right.
Lots of people nowadays are turning to vegetarian diets (and I can see the wisdom of that choice) but I find it somewhat humorous that the Good Lord created some plants that eat animals — as in the pitcher plant that traps insects and slowly dissolves them into food.
I captured this image the other day on the beach near Petoskey State Park. I was struck by the contrast. The sand was smooth and sculptural while the water was textural and flat. The lighting seemed soft on one and harsh on the other. These results were both caused by the same force — the wind, but with very different results.
It's pretty obvious to me that the Lord loves diversity — well some diversity. He obviously doesn't like both good and evil — so I guess there is diversity about diversity. I think I better stop now.

Grand Marais

2010-09-09T10:35:00.000-07:00

Grand Marais

Grand Marais — the name sounds intriguing and colorful unless you know French and understand that Marais means swamp or marsh. I spent a couple days camping with my wife and daughter up at Grand Marais, Michigan (not Minnesota), a quiet little town. There is no longer a marsh or swamp as there probably was when the French voyageurs first visited in the 1600's. It's a nice little harbor — a safe haven between Munising and Sault Saint Marie on Superior's south shore. A cold front was moving through on the days we were there which makes for some "iffy" weather — a real concern for tent campers, as we are, but the positive side is that it can make for some dramatic "atmosphere" for the image maker. So I'll share a little of the drama.

The Green Wave

Big Surf at Miner's Castle Beach (Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore)

Mix It Up

2010-08-31T17:58:00.000-07:00

I feel like I've been heavy on "grand landscapes" of late so I'm giving myself some assignments to help break the trend. I told myself that I was just going to take some walks in the back yard (the woods surrounding our house) and just use my 80mm macro. It's one of those contradictory things in life. When you lay out rules it forces you to try new things that in turn boosts your creativity and, over time, broadens the scope of your work. So rules help you break through barriers — interesting.
And lately I've been getting kinda loose with my image making -- more impressionist/soft. So I thought I'd also be a little more hard edged. The result is the image below. A very formal, arranged, sharp, typical camera frame dimensions, type of piece. And I really like it! Just remember rules can be good for you.

2010-08-08T05:03:00.000-07:00

Sorry my posts have been few and far between. The upcoming exhibit of my work down in Grand Haven has kinda been a consuming thing. I did sneek up to Waugoshance Point a couple times in the last two weeks. It is a very curious place. A windswept, stony, peninsula that sticks out into Lake Michigan just west of the Mackinac Bridge — part of Wilderness State Park. I think a lot of people drive out there just to see what it's like but not many stick around for any length of time. With a short visit you pretty much get the idea that it's primarily a collection of stone piles, marsh, and small stands of cedar and other scrub trees that have, by some miracle, been able to withstand this harsh environment. But like with many places, if you stay awhile you begin to see it's unique beauty. There are lots of flowering plants (like the Lobelia covered with dew)-- but because of the winds they tend to be small and keep close to the ground. The pools of water are filled with frogs and water skeeters and plenty of other tiny critters.

I'm drawn to places like this — places you have to stay awhile to really get to appreciate. Our culture seems all about the loud, the "in-your-face" type of life — that's how you get your fifteen minutes of fame, right? Well, there are plenty of people out there that are quietly going about their work, serving others, doing it with little complaint, and loving those who aren't very lovable. Those are this world's real heroes — people you have to hang around and really get to know to appreciate. Thanks, Manette, for being a prime example — you are my hero!

Endangered

2010-07-25T17:17:00.000-07:00

Michigan Monkey Flower and Forget-me-nots

I went to small piece of land that the Little Traverse Conservancy has set aside, looking for the rare and endangered Michigan Monkey Flower. Seems it only grows in mucky soil and sand that is saturated or covered by cold, flowing spring water. Conservationists only know of 12 sites in Michigan where the plant grows.
I don't know about you but I can relate to the Michigan Monkey Flower. I feel endangered — in the sense that I often feel like there aren't many folks out there that can relate to how I see the world. I'm really not trying to be "artsy" or "different", I'm just trying to do what feels natural to me.
Sorry I'm in a bit of a self pity mode — got to shake it off.
But I tell you what really keeps me going is that cool spring water I'm growing in. You know, that one thing I can always count on making sense in my life — "but whoever drinks the water I give him will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life.” I'm very thankful for that water!

Humility

2010-06-29T17:16:00.000-07:00

In response to the great cathedrals of the world, I thought I'd create my own place of worship. It is a place that I wouldn't expect people to travel great distances to visit. It is not decorated with great art. The walls don't do a very good job of protecting the people who enter — they are still exposed to the storms of life. I wouldn't wear fine clothes if it wanted to sit or kneel in this place. The only choir is the wind, the crickets, and bird songs.
I'm not knocking the great places of worship in the world. It is important to glorify God with the work of our hands and to inspire others to glorify God, but sometimes we, as Christians, need to be reminded of where OUR glory lies. … And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God. It's really pretty simple — like a building used to store corn.

Blessings

Bob

Halo

2010-06-15T11:06:00.000-07:00

The earth is the LORD’S, and everything in it, the world, and all who live in it — Psalm 24:1

Sometimes the Lord has remarkable ways of reminding us of the verse above. Mention the word "halo" and today's kids might think of a video game, but for oldsters like me we tend to think of those glorious paintings of saints from centuries ago that always included the circle above their head to signify their holiness/innocence. At the beach the other day there was this interesting cloud formation and my thoughts went directly to holiness or being blessed. I just had a week where all my children were back home to celebrate my second daughter's (third child) wedding. I felt so incredibly blessed as I watched them sing, work, play and celebrate. My heart really could not contain the joy and gratitude I felt. I think the Lord sent me this image to help me express some of what I felt. I hope you enjoy it too.

blessings

Bob

From the Heart

2010-05-31T18:15:00.000-07:00

Every once in awhile I revisit old images — in this case, one I took over 30 years ago. I have a few more tools in my toolbox thanks to digital imaging, and I can play around with these oldies but goodies and make something new.
As you may have noticed I haven't been posting much lately. I have a daughter getting married in a week and I am happily busy helping get ready for the event. I have been inspired by my daughter's life and love and I'm dedicating this new-old image as a blessing for her and her wonderful husband to be.

I call this piece love and faithfulness.

Looking Up

2010-04-25T17:12:00.000-07:00

This time of year it's real easy to spend your time looking at what's around your feet. The woodland wildflowers have just a couple weeks to soak in the sun and tempt the insects with their beauty and fragrance before the canopy of maples and beeches block out the sky. Spring beauties, dutchman's breeches, trout lilies, trilliums, and marsh marigolds are occupying every inch of forest floor and their colors and shapes are intoxicating for photographers as well as insects.
I walked up the ravine to the hills where the big beeches live just to find a place to sit and enjoy the breeze. I've often found that if I just relax and observe for a few minutes I'll begin to see new things or old things in new ways. I looked up at a nearby beech tree that had a muscular trunk and then re-focused my eyes on the twigs of sapling beeches that filled space like baby's breath in a bouquet. I've looked at these beeches for years and I'm sure I've seen these leaves emerging before, but today, I really saw them — I took time to enjoy them.
I always look forward to the arrival of the wildflowers in the Spring and I'm sure I always will. But now there's something new to look forward to.

Overcast

2010-04-07T17:41:00.000-07:00

Here is an image that "just happened" a few days ago. Sometimes you can spend a whole day at a favorite photo hot spot and have just the right mix of sun and clouds and everything you come home with seems uninspired. Then there are the moments that "just happen."
The sky was overcast. I was not feeling particularly creative. So I told myself I'd take a short walk down the beach — the goal; just get some fresh air and exercise. Maybe it was because I was relaxed. Maybe it was because I like the color purple. Maybe the combination of light, clouds, and water never came together in just that way before, at least while I was at the beach. Who knows? For some reason I became keenly aware that the receding waves were a beautiful purplish blue. I pulled out the camera and took just a few shots. I used a slow shutter speed and followed the motion of the waves thinking the softness of motion might enhance the mellow mood of the light.
The result is this image. Certainly not the "immediate" drama of some images -- but for me it really has a strong emotive effect. I hope you enjoy it as well.

Blessings,

Bob

Cold

2010-03-27T08:57:00.000-07:00

Every year we get a few cold days in early Spring — days that are deceptively cold. Part of the problem is that we've already had a few Spring-like days where the temps hit 50+ and we run outside with just our hoodies on. Then come the days where it is bright and sunny but the air is more in tune with your down parka. I knew it would be cold out on the beach but I decided I needed to get out there and shoot.
The sky was crystal clear as I headed to Fisherman's Island — around 5 PM. The access road along Lake Michigan is a seasonal road (not plowed) so, as expected, there were remnants of drifts still crossing the blacktop. It made me a little nervous cause the last thing I wanted to do is get stuck way back at Inwood Creek. I know from previous visits that there is no cell phone coverage out there. Anyway, my desire to capture some images outweighed my fears and I wove my way around and over the stubborn ice to road's end.
The one good thing about the cold was that even though the skies were clear, the fact that you could see your breath would keep away most other visitors. Not that I don't like people, it's just that I'm easily distracted when I'm working on images. Growing as an artist means learning about yourself. I attempt to put myself with the right places at the right time to eliminate distractions, AND, even more importantly, I work at getting myself in the right frame of mind. When shooting in familiar locations I have a tendency to visualize the images that are waiting for me. Anticipation has some good points in that it helps me decide what gear to have along and strategizing saves some time when gathering images, but there is a downside. Having a plan keeps me from being open to something new that's just waiting to jump into my camera. I have learned to just slow down and walk round the area for a few minutes before pressing the shutter.
In looking over my images today I'm very pleased with what I was able to capture at Fisherman's Island. I had to endure some frozen toes (I got my feet wet) but it was worth it.

Wandering

2010-03-19T16:36:00.000-07:00

Why do those bugs that are eating away at the trees make serpentine trails? Are they programmed to weave? Maybe the decaying tree cells are fermented and the bugs couldn't eat a straight line if they wanted to. Do the bugs has a specific place on the tree where they are headed? So why not take the shortest route?
Then again, I have lots of goals but my road to those goals seem more like the bug trails. Even for a pretty goal minded individual I seem to be easily distracted and often confused — is my goal even worth pursuing? I've been thinking about putting together a book of images and words for years, but it doesn't seem to happen. I think what it comes down to is that my life isn't about me, and there are good/important reasons for distractions — serving family, friends, strangers — anyone who needs help. I guess my distractions are goals.
Is this blog entry wandering?
What was I talking about?

Today is Christmas

2010-03-09T08:16:00.000-08:00

Sorry, This is not going to be one of those light and fun editions about where and how I got my latest images. It's a peek into the artist and how I look at life, thus, how I look at creating art.
As much as possible I try to live my life one day at a time. That doesn't mean that I don't plan for things — God is ultimately in control, so I'll work at what I feel called to do and plan what I feel called to plan, but I try and hold my work and plans loosely because who knows what God will do or what evil will do to change everything.
Evil — who wants to talk about evil?
Many people get stuck on why God allows evil. My perspective is, God didn't want to create robots so he gave humankind the option of allowing evil and humankind foolishly invited evil into the world — It's not what God wanted. Because evil is so insidious and pervasive, by all rights, the world should be a total mess all the time. So for me the question is not, why does God allow evil — humankind did that. My question is, with evil being so insidious and pervasive, why is there anything beautiful and good in this world? So when I see beauty and kindness I see grace. I see God saying, I'm going to give you a beautiful gift even though humankind doesn't deserve it.
So all those images of flowers and trees and streams and dunes — they're all gifts, and gifts I don't deserve. Everyday I play with images is Christmas.

Easy Walking

2010-02-12T15:46:00.000-08:00

We often characterize Winter as a time to "battle the elements", but as I made my way out to the beach the other day I found that it was easy walking. It was a comfortable 1/2 mile stroll to one of my favorite spots on Little Traverse Bay. In summer the sand provides a poor springboard — absorbing some of the energy of each forward step, but in winter the moisture in the sand has frozen making my locomotion very efficient — a benefit, not a battle.
But I have to be honest. As in most of life there is give and take. When I reached Menonaqua Beach I felt compelled to walk into the stream to get this shot. No, I didn't have my rubber boots on so I knew my feet would get a little damp. When it's twenty degrees that can be a problem. But you know what? It really didn't bother me so much. There was a bright sky and I was having fun taking pics so I chose to ignore the discomfort.
I think I'll choose to ignore a discomfort today and another one tomorrow. Maybe I'll make it a habit.

Stakeout

2010-01-25T16:22:00.000-08:00

Most of Thursday morning last week was spent up on Sleeping Bear Point. There are always beautiful grand landscapes to capture — which I did. Then after my traditional lunch — Surf-n-Turf (a hamburger and smelt) at Art's Tavern, I headed with a couple friends to a beach near the Homestead Resort. We walked the shoreline toward Pyramid Point but unlike our morning excursion there just didn't seem to be any interesting subjects. After the turn-around in the shadow of the point's tall bluff I decided to walk a few yards inland instead of retracing my steps at the water's edge. Sometimes the waves and wind place some interesting objects in the grass. I passed a section of beach that a local camp uses in the summer and noticed this group of stakes — simple, rusty, utilitarian, stakes. Probably there to hold up a volleyball net in the summer months. But I loved their simple shape and their interaction with each other and the shadows they cast. Call me crazy but this was my favorite capture of the day. Maybe not as impressive as the grand dunes with their windswept lines of snow and sand, but elegant beauty in my mind.
Next time you're out for a walk look for the simple beauty in things — especially in the person that's walking along side you.

Vertical Flow

2010-01-02T13:57:00.000-08:00

Lately I've been getting these visions in the middle of the night. My brain starts sorting through a catalog of images from recent shoots and somehow a connection is made between images. As some of you may know or have figured out, many of my pieces are like weavings — they are multiple images that are worked together to form a new image.
I was going through some of my Porcupine Mountain images earlier in the day and there was one image that held my interest, but somehow the story wasn't complete. I think it was at about 2 a.m. the next morning that my brain connected an additional image. YES — that was the one that finished the story of the Big Union River on a stormy day. Rain was pelting the surface of the river — kicking up little fountains. The rising waters were picking leaves off the river's edge and carrying them downstream, and the wind was twisting the maples along the banks.
The one element of the image that's a little weird is that the tapestry is vertical but the motion is horizontal. I'm hoping viewer's imaginations can carry them downstream.

Blessings in the new year!

Give Art

2009-12-09T18:06:00.000-08:00

Like Brooms of Steel
The Snow and Wind
Had swept the Winter Street ...

I love that imagery of Winter by Emily Dickenson. Those words are true of the last few days here in Northern Michigan. After an exceptionally mild November, we have rushed headlong into winter. I found the brooms of steel at work in the parking lot of the local state park. What an eclectic bas-relief created by the wind scouring layers of sand, snow, and gravel, with the addition of some formal structure via human intervention. Little did they know, those folks in that last vehicle of the season — the last vehicle before the gates were closed — that they were creating art. But I think that creating art happens all the time by people who are unaware that they are doing so. It's art when you give someone a hug. It's art when you bake some cookies for a friend, and it's art when let someone with fewer items go ahead of you in line at the grocery. Give art this Christmas season.

Not Where I Expected

2009-11-25T16:00:00.000-08:00

When I roam the shoreline of Lake Michigan I find all sorts of "stuff" that washes up. Much of it is trash and it really is depressing. I suppose that some of the objects are inadvertent — a plastic sandwich bag that blew out of a child's hands while the family ate lunch on the beach, but other objects are the result of a person's total disregard for God's house. God's house — that's how I view the natural world around me. It must take every bit of restraint that God can muster when someone throws their big gulp cup in the lake. Don't you think God would just like to unleash his/her power to pick up the offender and permanently lock them in a dumpster with moldy garbage? Then again, I better watch out for my judgmental attitude. The Holy One has plenty of reasons to lock me up.

Sorry, I don't know how I got on this topic — a bit of a downer. I guess I was imagining walking along the beach and how often I'm disappointed in what I find, but the other day I was pleasantly surprised. I've seen Pitcher Plant a few times in swampy areas in the woods, but last weekend I came across it about 20 feet from Lake Michigan — not where I'd expect it to be. And seeing it was the middle of November, after many frosty mornings, and exposed like it was on the open beach, I would expect it to be shriveling up, but it really seemed to be thriving. Maybe the juice in the pitcher is like antifreeze. It was a large group that was taking on all the colors of autumn. I love the curves of this plant. And what a marvelous bit of engineering — how it traps insects for food.

I like finding things where I'd least expect them to be — and not just there but thriving. Kind of gives me hope — because often I'm not where I expect to be — and maybe I can not just be there — just exist, but thrive!

Time

2009-11-10T17:53:00.000-08:00

Seems like the last couple weeks have been crazy busy. When I reviewed the images I was putting together from my Porkies AIR I decided that the old web site that I had wasn't going to cut it anymore. So any spare time I had I worked on sorting through images of the last few years and selected the best to include in a new web site. What a huge job! Because I would rather be out there taking pics instead of creating web pages I decided to move my site to a "pre-packaged" web service that lets you just plug your photos into their web site templates. No, I don't like the lack of flexibility in the site's design, but it's just one of those compromises in life.
So if you were waiting for more porkies pics — thanks for your patience. At left is an underwater pic (Union River) of a poplar leaf that was going with the flow — not worried about time.
As Kermit the Frog once said, "Time is fun when your having flies." So I won't sit here and keep on bemoaning my lack of time — I'll just keep it fun by having flies. Do you think making and eating a shoofly pie counts as "having flies?"
Crumb Crust:
2 deep dish pie shells, unbaked
2 1/2 cups flour
1 cup brown sugar
1/2 cup softened butter
1 teaspoon cream of tartar
1 pinch of salt
Filling:
2 cups hot water
1 cup mild molasses
1 cup brown sugar
1 beaten egg
1 tablespoon flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
Directions:
1. Combine all crumb ingredients and mix until ataining even consistency.
2. To make the filling take a different bowl, combine the hot water, molasses and brown sugar. Stir until sugar is dissolved. Add the egg, flour and baking soda.
3. Pour 1/2" filling into a pie shell and cover with crumbs. Continue to alternate between filling and crumbs until pie shell is full.
4. Bake in a preheated oven at 350F for 45-60 minutes until golden-brown. Insert a toothpick and when it comes out clean, remove from oven.

The First of Many

2009-10-20T10:28:00.000-07:00

Gateway to the Hemlocks

I'm sifting through thousands of images I collected during my Artist-in-Residence at the Porcupine Mountains Wilderness State Park. I chose this one as the first of many that I'll probably post here over the next few weeks. One of the most noteable features of "the Porkies" are the stands of virgin Hemlock. But how do you capture a forest? The lighting is a problem because its always very spotty/contrasty. The subjects are these tall objects that are very difficult to place in one image. And often you can't see the forest for the trees -- as in it's hard to find a spot where you can get a perspective of the forest without having to shoot through other tree trunks or branches.
Well here is an attempt. I took an impressionist bent because the lighting reminded me of a Monet painting and I felt that the the textures of the bark, forest canopy, and forest floor would be enhanced by this style. I hope you enjoy this first of many.

Weather the Weather

2009-10-13T16:46:00.000-07:00

I've been on the road for the last three weeks. First, I went to the Porcupine Mountains Wilderness State Park as Artist in Residence and with a quick turn around headed to Sleeping Bear Dunes to serve as a workshop presenter and field trip leader for a NANPA (North American Nature Photographers Association) event. At both locations I had to contend with some pretty "rough" weather. Wind, cold, and rain seemed to be a forecast staple. I'll admit that it wasn't always easy to get out of bed at 6 am to go collect images, but I reassured myself that no matter what the weather I would get good shots.
Necessity is the mother of invention — right? And likewise, a challenge is the mother of creativity. The weather forced me to think differently about what I was shooting — a good thing. And the Porcupines had been very dry most of the summer so the forests and critters needed the rain — a good thing. Well, I better stop there or I'll sound like a positive think guru. Getting real — the weather was tough to endure at times, and I did ask why me, why now? But it was part of a plan and I've learned to be humble and accept that plan, whether I understand it or not.

Showers of blessings

Bob

Review

2009-09-22T16:54:00.000-07:00

Soon I'll be heading for another Artist-in-Residence gig. Before leaving I needed to make some space on my hard drive for the flood of new images that will be coming in. As I reviewed my huge inventory of photos, eliminating a couple here and a couple there, I found images that somehow got lost in the shuffle or I found images that were mediocre and with a little work became something worth sharing — so I'm sharing this one. It was taken three years ago when I was on my way to visit my daughter who was going to school at NMU in Marquette.
Every once-in-a-while it is good to review things. It holds true for my artwork. It holds true for my life. When I look back I see some tough times but also hidden gems — things that I overlooked at the time — good things that came out of being refined by the tough times. When I review I realize that I am blessed — more than I deserve.
I always head to these resident artist opportunities with a little anxiety. What if the creative juices just aren't flowing? What if my equipment fails? Lots of things could happen but history shows that there will be blessings — maybe hidden during the experience, but revealed on review. Just relax Bob.

The Problem of Beauty

2009-09-01T11:13:00.000-07:00

Why is there beauty in the world? There are many days that I feel that I don't deserve it — to be blessed by it, but there it is.
I was walking along the beach thinking that my excursion was going to be a wash-out. I didn't particularly feel creative or inspired. I was trying to think positive — telling myself that at least I was getting some exercise. It wasn't the right time of day — mid-day — to get those nice shadows and warm colors. There were too many people enjoying the beach that day — good for them but they only interrupted my concentration. I didn't even pull out my camera until 20 minutes into my walk.
I waded into a puddle formed where sand had blocked a stream from making a quick entrance into the bay. I had been at this location many times and in my cynicism I was thinking that I had pretty much explored the place from every angle possible, and that anything I created that day would just be a repeat of something I had done before. I stood on the edge of the pond looking at some broken beach toys that were half buried in the sand. I slowly turned around and saw the image that accompanies this blog entry.
I noticed that stirring the water with feet caused beautiful ripples on the pond. Who had left their lounge chairs on the beach? Why had all this dark sediment settled on the bottom of the pond creating a reflective pool? Why was this stretch of beach vacant when every other inch of sand seemed occupied?
Just accept the beauty Bob! Enjoy the moment. You are blessed.

Uncovered

2009-08-20T11:08:00.000-07:00

I came across these stumps and miscellaneous tree parts on the dunes the other day. My guess is that they had been buried in the sands for decades if not longer and recent winds had uncovered them. They really are wonderful sculptures. I feel somewhat disappointed in my ability to capture their beauty. I'm sure I'll get back there to try again. It's like I feel obligated to tell their story. I'm not accustomed to breathing life into inanimate objects but what were they thinking when they just sat there in the dark for years — just inches above them children ran across the sands to play in the lake — they missed glorious sunrises and sunsets day after day. Sorry if I'm getting weird here, but my mind attaches stories/histories to many things.
I guess I feel grateful that I can move (although somewhat slower with age) and am not living in fear of the sands burying me for years. I do have days when I feel buried though. I have a wonderful family that's good at keeping me uncovered and out in the sun.
The image I include with this note I titled "Compass." There are obvious design reasons for its title, but also a tribute to my friends and family who are good a giving me a sense of direction — mainly up, above the sands and uncovered.

Bathed in Blessing

2009-08-12T14:54:00.000-07:00

Last week I did a little scouting on South Manitou Island for a photography field trip that I'm leading in October. I didn't plan my trip based on any celestial calculations. The moon was just there — and so was Jupiter. I'm not sure what time it was when I got up — probably 1:00 am or so. I just sat on the log bench in front of my tent and watched the sky and the shimmering water of the Manitou passage. I finally took my camera out and took a few shots just because that's what I do, but somehow my heart wasn't in it. I felt bathed in blessing and process of crafting an image seemed to be irreverent. Some would say that this moment was just coincidence. I believe otherwise.

The cool blue moon provided just enough light to give everything around me a hint of their daylight colors. The waves on the stony shore — no bigger than they were this afternoon — had a new voice that seemed amplified tenfold within the context of the muted landscape.

I was inspired to create what some might call a "minimalist" piece. Minimal in visual elements maybe but when I see it I hear clearly the brassy swash of waves that sung me to sleep on South Manitou.

I apologize that you can't see this image any larger on this blog because the weaving of fine lines of light get lost in this low rez version. This is an image I'd like to fill a wall with.

Blessings bathed on you!

A view from my campsite

Two Views of the Bay — Variety

2009-07-23T09:37:00.000-07:00

When I was in grade school my art teacher introduced me to burlap, yarn, and stitching. (Please keep it a secret because it's not considered the most manly of things for an adolescent boy to do). I liked it so much that after the class project was done I begged my mom to go to the local fabric store and buy me a big piece of green burlap and a skein of multicolored yarn. And there I'd be, sitting in my bedroom, pushing a big needle over and under the coarse burlap. I would dash across the burlap with the "running" stitch, and then create a wavy line with the "chain" stitch and then a row of "French knots." I'd eventually lay the needle down and walked over to my friend's house so that we could build a fort in his garage and play army. You can tell your friends about that part of my life .

After the long and lonely stitch lines that defined the length of the piece, I concentrated my efforts on one side of the bath towel sized burlap. The design morphed as it grew left to right. I didn't take the time to create a master plan. I just started stitching. My skill level increased, my concept changed, I experimented with new stitches and new yarns, and when I was in a good mood I created more complex motifs, and when tired or grumpy I would keep the technique simple, not wanting to tempt frustration. For some reason I worked around my intitial stitches that ran the length of the burlap, and in some cases I drew attention to them by building symmetries either side of the stitching.

Little did I know that I was creating a design that would reflect my life. I love variety — morphing motifs. That's one reason I think I head to the beach so often. Wind and water mold the soft sands into new visions by the hour. The waves wash up new subjects overnight. But there are always some threads that pull everything together. Even though I don't like to admit it, I need to be pulled together. Thanks for keeping me together MLD.

Delicate and Strong

2009-07-18T08:04:00.000-07:00

What do you do when it rains? Take photos — what else? It's a great time to go to the beach because you don't get trampled by families carrying coolers, bags of float toys, and beach chairs — and did I mention, getting skewered by beach umbrellas?
The light is nice and soft so it's a great time to look for soft subjects. In the back dunes there are little hollows and in the little hollows lie delicate flowers called Harebells — sounds like the beginning of a fairytale doesn't it? The blossoms, although modest in size, seem too large to be held up by their whispy stems. The blossoms shake their heads at the slightest breeze. A pale blue color fits with their simple elegant curves. But looks are deceiving. If you go back to one of my first entries you'll see a photo of a Harebell that I took in November (November 23, 2008) — after a light snow had fallen. Next time you're at the beach take a walk in dunes behind the crowds of sunbathers and look for the delicate and strong Harebell

Tadpoles

2009-07-02T17:04:00.000-07:00

Seems like a pretty precarious existence, living in this shallow sandy pond on the edge of a lake whose waves could easily wash away their home in minutes, but there they are, zipping for cover as my shadow hovers over them. You really can't see them in a photo because they're too small and their olive drab bodies blend in well with the pond floor.

I hope they don't mind that I took a photo of their place on the beach. I wish I had a place on the beach.

In a Ditch

2009-06-29T14:11:00.000-07:00

Q: Where can you find some of Michigan's most beautiful wildflowers?
A: In a ditch.
In order to position myself to capture the image I had to place my feet, accompanied by my favorite sandals, in stagnant, slime capped, water. The mosquitoes were in my ears. Just four feet from my camera bag, cars, motorcycles, and trucks kicked up stones. My imagination played a movie of a startled bicyclist losing control and falling on top of me. All in a day's shoot.

I would guess that on a clear summer's day couple hundred vehicles drive along this stretch of road, and being a favorite bike route of the local folks, an equal number of cyclists pass by. How many ever stop to appreciate the incredible beauty that lives here? Purple Iris, Lady's Slippers, Marsh Marigolds, Forget-me-nots, Damsel Flies, Leopard Frogs, and Salamanders, are just a few who inhabit this ditch. We will travel thousands of miles to see canyons and mountains, but won't stop the car and take a couple steps to see an equally grand landscape. Yes, I know, it's not "grand" in size, but if you scale down your perspective, it's equally majestic.

A ditch is seldom referred to in positive terms. A ditch is the unhappy conclusion to a story of traveling on slippery roads, and digging ditches is considered one of the most menial of tasks. No one particularly likes being in a ditch and I hope and pray that you don't find yourself in one of life's ditches. But I have found that when I am "in a ditch," I often see, appreciate, and experience the grace and glory of God in new and exciting ways. Example: I know I can count on the love and support of my brothers and sisters in Christ, especially my church community, when I am in need. Yes, there is beauty in the ditch.

Between Glory and Rust

2009-06-14T17:16:00.000-07:00

I'm a well traveled person in the last month. I went to France and visited the King's palace at Versailles and I've been to my back yard and looked at the junk that the former owners of my property left. Funny thing is, whether junk or palace, they each have their own beauty. And both former owners have departed this earth and can no longer appreciate what has been left behind. Yep, you really can't take it with you.

I think it's good to be reminded on occasion about what's really important. Whether we leave behind a glorious palace or a pile of rusty metal what's really important was summed up by a prophet in the middle east a couple centuries ago. He said our lives should be about being just -- treating people fairly and honestly, being merciful -- having compassion and sharing what we have, and walking humbly with our God -- knowing that we are just a small speck in the universe yet extremely important to the Creator of the universe. I'm important to THE creator — how cool is that?!

Yes, I enjoy taking pretty pictures, and I hope I'm honoring my Creator by using the gifts He's given me. And I hope you receive a blessing in seeing them. That's the simple reason for why I post my photos here.
Blessings,
Bob

The First Warm Day

2009-04-25T17:17:00.000-07:00

We all wait for it. A 70 degree day in April. Well, if you live north of Latitude 45° you wait for it — anxiously. And the northern hardwoods waste no time waking up. There are many plants that have a small window of opportunity. Before the mighty maples, beech, ash, and oak block the sun with their foliage the plants of the forest floor have to mature, bloom, and pollinate. Just a little pressure!

I love to just lay on the warm matte of old leaves and get the bug's eye view of the baby trout lilies, spring beauties, trilliums, and dutchman's breeches. Of course my wonderful wife always laughs when I walk in the door after one of my lazy afternoons amongst my green friends because along with the more notable plants a very pungent plant called the wild leek thrives and it imparts a wonderful scent on my bluejeans and sweatshirt. Just nature's version of Old Spice, I say. I real turn-on, right?

Enough of the wild woods talk. I'm working out there. And I think I have some good images to show for it. And the next time you're out for your Spring walk-in-the-woods. Don't be afraid to stop and take a rest in the warm matte of leaves.

Sleeping Sleeping Bear

2009-03-28T13:41:00.000-07:00

I was hoping to see the sunrise and only feel a breath of wind, but the day was otherwise. It may seem contradictory but the subtlety of a grey day has its own drama. I rounded the corner of Sleeping Bear Point where the bluff guarded a stretch of beach and there was a dramatic calming of the rolling waves. The colors of the bay that were broken by cresting waves just a dozen yards behind me, now lie in large sheets. Water and wind seemed to find a balance, cancelling each others voices on the shoreline. It was indeed a sanctuary. It was if the the bear was dozing.

Looking Behind You

2009-03-19T18:27:00.000-07:00

As many of you know or may have gathered from my blog, I spend a lot of time walking the shores of Lake Michigan. I especially like the shoreline around this time of year because the forces of nature are hard at work. Cycles of freezes and thaws push the sand and ice into fractured landscapes. Jagged ice crystals grow and then morph into smooth organic sculptures when the sun shines through them. So I was at the beach the other day, looking at that interesting edge where ice meets sand, when the shadows began to fade. A wispy cloud was to blame. I looked up to observe how fast the clouds were moving, therefore gauge how long before my image defining shadow would return, but the cloud itself caught my attention. I had to do a 180 to follow the line of the cloud and see it disappear behind the dunes. My image was there — behind me. I should have known. When will I learn? I can't tell you how many times I've been intent on capturing an image at my toes when the real image was following me. Creativity is like that — always contradicting your current direction.

2009-03-16T16:25:00.000-07:00

Michigan is in transition from Winter to Spring and I guess I'm feeling the tension. The battle rages — one minute it's Spring and the next it's Winter again. Maybe that's why I created this image. Can you feel the tension? There are always new sculptures along the beach as the ice breaks up and refreezes.

Old Barrel

2009-03-08T18:31:00.000-07:00

You never know what the wind and the water will reveal. I guess that's one reason I like the lake shore so much. The sand can be sculpted into a whole new form in just hours. And not all that is revealed is pretty – at least at first glance. Of course I really don't like seeing an old barrel (with who knows what in it) appear from under the sand, but it's oxidized colors and the earth and reflected sky make for an interesting subject. And then there is the tension between organic forms and geometric forms. Wow — I'm getting to cerebral here. I just like the image — OK?
Hope you find it "interesting."

2009-02-09T14:05:00.000-08:00

Sorry I've been gone so long but I've really been in a creative slump lately. I can always blame the weather. I think in the month of January we had 25 of 31 days at below normal temps — and for Northern Michigan that's cold. It's not that I'm a weather wimp. In general I can deal with the cold and snow but trying to deal with the weather and your camera system — switching lenses, changing settings, etc — it's tough. BUT really I've just been lacking in some creative enthusiasm. I happens to the best of us. I did read a good book though -- Blue Like Jazz. A real honest, refreshing, account of a person's life journey. As is often the case it is literature, music, or something other than the media that I work in that can get me out of a slump.
So I went to the dunes the other day to gather some images -- I heard temps were going to be reasonable and the sun was to be out most the day. I left home at 5:00 am and arrived at 7:30 and snow shoed up Sleeping Bear Point for a 8:00 am sunrise. The day didn't turn out to be all that productive as far as images go but just being outside and x-c skiing and shoeing was great for the spirit. Attached is one image that worked well -- although it's too much like other stuff I've done. I think I need to experiment a bit more to produce something more exciting.
See you SOON.

Holidays

2008-12-29T10:38:00.000-08:00

I was hopeful that I'd have a little sun this morning as I walked the beach. When I woke up this morning at 6 am I could see stars out my bedroom window, but alas, the clouds moved in and I was forced to make my own sunshine. That's a good thing in some ways. When you are challenged to add some excitement to a gray day your creativity kicks in. It seems that a duffer decided to smack a bucket of balls into the bay so I collected his washed up trash and play with it on the pebbly back dune area at the park. A Petoskey stone and a single Christmas bulb found their way into the mix as well. A interesting mix of the natural and man made.
Anyway, Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year from the Michigan Artisan.
Blessings and peace to you!

Bob

Looking Back

2008-12-15T17:29:00.000-08:00

Sorry that it has been awhile since I posted but it's just that time of year — plenty to do and not enough time to do it. I should be out getting images of the winter wonderland but instead I wimped out and sat in my cozy office and started looking through bunches of old work. It's amazing how, when looking back, you begin to see things that you totally missed when the images were fresh. I'm convinced that distancing yourself a little (time-wise) from your work is often a good thing. When looking at images just a couple hours after the shoot I think your impressions are clouded by expectations of how those images should look. I certainly don't want to clear emotion from my work — it's important, but there is this block of thought about what I expected to create and what I was really able to capture that hampers good creative thought. I have a hard time explaining it. Maybe I need a little distance from this thought.
Anyway, I looked way back to my experience at Petrified Forest to put together this new piece from that experience. It was the last evening that I was there. I found this incredible valley not far off the main road and shot away. Colors, textures, drama — I like this piece.

Little Things

2008-11-23T10:22:00.000-08:00

Why does a small wildflower bloom in the middle of November? Walking through the back dunes of Petoskey State Park a couple days ago I came across a harebell blooming on the side of a dune. Maybe there was just enough heat energy left in the sand to encourage the plant to produce one more bloom. The insects that may pollinate such a plant are certainly long gone. So you may say that this bloom is wasted. But it wasn't wasted on me. I felt like it was just there for me to enjoy — an audience of one.

And speaking of singularity, This one seed pod floated along the shore and somehow I felt obligated to pick it up and place it on a small piece of driftwood just to honor it's travels — a long way from mother maple. I'm sure by now it has been picked up by the wind and planted itself along one of the many streams that flow into Little Traverse Bay. Someday my grandson will play in its branches.

Capital Reception

2008-11-12T17:59:00.000-08:00

My wife Manette and I headed down to Lansing on Monday for a reception at the Governor's residence, honoring those artists whose works were selected to decorate the residence for the coming year. I wasn't quite sure what to expect — if it would be just a "photo-op" with the Governor, Jennifer Grandholm, and a few hors d'oeuvres — or something more. As it turned out, it was more. And for a guy who's not big on the social scene it was very enjoyable. Governor Grandholm and her husband Daniel Mulhern hung around for a while and talked about how they enjoyed supporting Michigan artists. They gave each artist the opportunity to introduce themselves and their art and where their work was located in the residence. And what was especially fun was getting to know a few fellow artists. I'd like to thank the Governor for her support of the arts and taking some time out of her busy schedule to host this reception.

So enough with the party scene. As my wife will attest, I have this fundamental need to arrive at destinations way earlier than is necessary. Not sure what gene-pool that came from, but I'm sure I could blame some ancestor for this timely trait. Anyway, we were in Lansing a wee bit early so I thought, why not head to the capitol building and snoop around. So we did, and it was really an impressive place. And for a photographer it was good timing since the place was pretty well deserted —just one small tour group. I laid my camera on the floor, lens side up, and took a few pics of the dome above. The subjects don't fall into the nature catagory I so dearly love, but you need some new-ness in the mix once in awhile. I had fun capturing these images and that's key to learning and growing as an artist.

The House of Representatives

Warm Days and Coldplay

2008-11-07T12:55:00.000-08:00

No sooner do I talk about how depressing November can be than we have a string of beautiful warm days. I think the Lord really has a sense of humor. So I got out here a few times and took advantage of the weather and I think I made a few respectable images. See what you think.
And amidst all the great weather I had an experience that I haven't had since my college days (I won't say how long ago that was). I headed to the Palace at Auburn Hills on Monday evening for a Coldplay concert. I'll admit it wasn't my idea. It all started when my college freshman daughter wanted desperately to attend, and being the good Dad that I was I decided it was OK to go as long a I went along. And guess what? I really enjoyed it! In fact I've had their songs running through my brain all week. And now that I look at the images I've created this past week I'm thinking that they reflect the music. So enjoy my Coldplay art. By-the-way I've titled the top image "Yellow." If you're one of us Coldplay groupies you'll appreciate that.

Stripped Away

2008-10-27T18:22:00.000-07:00

There are few leaves left on the trees here in Petoskey. A stiff northern wind has made sure of that. For many, it is a depressing time of the year. The colors are gone and the snow has yet to brighten the landscape. And I have to admit that I end up spending more time indoors than is typical — a good time to catch up on my blog.
But I do relish a weather challenge and Sunday afternoon was perfect — rain, hail, thunder, lightening, and occasionally the sun broke through. I headed just a mile down the road to a nature conservancy. Deep into the woods, the trail became a boardwalk as it crossed soft ground near a stream. Plastered to the walk were leaves in various patterns. Most folks would overlook them but I enjoyed the intensity of the wet, earthy, colors and the simplicity of their interaction on the easel of the boardwalk. As I worked on my images Sunday evening I was reminded of a story my pastor had used the previous Sunday. He talked about the experiences of a family in German occupied Netherlands in WW2. Their incredible story was made known through a book written by Corrie ten Boom called The Hiding Place. Corrie and most of her family ended up spending time in German concentration camps for being part of the underground and hiding Jews in their home. Four of the ten Booms died in the camps but Corrie survived. As you can imagine her return home at the war's end was bittersweet — very happy to be home but missing her family. One would think that on looking back at her time in the camps Corrie would have nothing but feelings of horror and despair but that was not the case. There was a part of her experience in the camps that she actually missed. In the camps, life was minimal — barely enough of the essentials to survive. But in that place where life was stripped down to almost nothing, there was a moment by moment reliance on God. The spiritual life in the camp was very strong.
So now, when I see a bare tree and a few decaying leaves on the ground I think of what is really important in life — certainly not my things — not even my camera or computer :) — it's my walk with my Savior and my God.

Alligator Hill

2008-10-27T17:54:00.000-07:00

I was able to stop at Sleeping Bear on my way back from downstate on Saturday. It was your typical change-in-seasons day in Michigan — a driving rain one minute — a burst of sunshine the next. I headed down the road to my automatic first stop on any Sleeping Bear visit — Sleeping Bear Point, but halfway there I did an about face and decided that I'd take the stroll up Alligator Hill — something I hadn't done in several years. As I pulled in the trailhead parking lot the clouds parted and I couldn't get on my hike fast enough.
Autumn seems to be the hardest time of year for me to photograph. It's like there is so much going on that it's hard to distill my thoughts about what I'm experiencing. I took lots of pics on my hike but the couple I chose to display here are the most successful at capturing the day.

Hunting Camp

2008-10-20T15:44:00.000-07:00

I got lost in the woods and I must have ended up on someone's private property so forgive me, whoever you are, if this is your special place in the woods, but I couldn't resist taking some pics of this metalic beauty in this natural setting. I didn't disturb anything — I promise.

Autumn Light

2008-10-08T17:20:00.000-07:00

Autumn colors are near their peak here in Northern Michigan. Maybe I find the display overwhelming so I avoid the woods. But I also think that there is a special light to Autumn that gets lost, and that light takes center stage where the colors are less intense. So I'm at the beach again. I guess I'll come up with any excuse to walk the beach.

Sturgeon Bay

2008-09-22T07:47:00.000-07:00

I wasn't aware that it was international beach cleanup day or I would have left my camera at home and brought a few garbage bags. I was more than a mile from the parking area, looking for images, when I ran into a nice couple with bag and clipboard in hand, who let me know about their reason for hiking this lonely stretch of sand. As a frequent beach wanderer I'm well aware of the "junk" that accumulates along the shore. Next year I'll be a part of the pick-up party.
As for this year, All I can do is share a couple images of this beautiful morning and hope that you appreciate this special place and others like it. Please do your best to keep it beautiful.

Beach Berries

2008-09-15T07:37:00.000-07:00

It was a rainy day in Petoskey on Sunday — as it was in much of the midwest. It wasn't a "beach" day in the ordinary swimmer and sunbather sense, but foul weather only serves as a challenge to my creative spirit, so for me it was a beach day. I put the all-weather cover on my camera and headed for the State Park. On my ten minute drive I was conceptualizing the images — the concentric ring patterns left by raindrops as they hit the surface of the small backwater pools or beads of water sliding down slender blades of beach grasses.
You would think that my artistic genes would tell me to explore some new stretch of the park, but here I was making my way along the same old stretch of Little Traverse Bay. It was a surprisingly pleasant stroll. The wet, firm, sand lessened the walking resistance and the rain was light. I figured I had at least an hour before my jacket fabric would begin to saturate and chill me.

At my usual turn-around point I make a slight detour inland to a bank of vegetation that held a mound of dark soil. It was the deep red leaves that first drew my attention — then the fleabane and the berries. The water on the leaves added color saturation and some highlights for some excitement. It wasn't what I imagined I'd be taking pictures of but the unexpected is good creative nurishment. I saw a very rich tapestry. What do you see?

At Sleeping Bear Again

2008-09-03T08:08:00.000-07:00

Well, it seems I never get enough of the Sleeping Bear. I was up on Sleeping Bear Point on two consecutive mornings this past weekend and the atmosphere couldn't have been much more different on those mornings. Morning one was heavy with fog and dew.

Thousands of spider webs that are all but invisible in dry conditions glowed with strings of water droplets. The fog hung in the valleys creating a strong depth to the landscape. The heavy seed heads bent the dune grasses in graceful arcs as if they were rolling waves.

Morning two was clear and bright with a gentle warm breeze. I found myself just wanting to sit and meditate rather than work at creating art. I sat at the top of a dune and just observed, thanking God for an incredible place to be at a glorious moment.

If you are ever at the dunes don't miss the opportunity to be up on Sleeping Bear Point at sunrise. I know it's not your favorite thing to do on vacation — getting up so early, but it is worth it!

Governor's Residence Artist

2008-08-15T12:57:00.000-07:00

I received word today that two of my artworks are to be exhibited in the Michigan Governor's residence for a year (2008–2009). It's a wonderful honor. In case you don't get the opportunity to visit the Governor of Michigan at her home in the next year, I'll share with you the two images that will hang in her home. The winter scene is "Sanctuary." The Scene from the woods is "Crowded"

Back From Algonquin

2008-08-13T10:03:00.000-07:00

Took a few hikes in Algonquin Provincial Park. I highly recommend the Spruce Bog Trail —a short but fascinating track through a beautiful series of bogs. Pitcher plants, Sun dews, Water Lilies and lots of other photo ops.