Not Where I Expected

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.