Point Lobos – January 2013
We visited our friend, Sally in Monterey. In addition to visiting, dream work and a shamanic journey, we did some touristy things. We visited 17 Mile Dr., where we saw whales, watched a sunset from Sunset Drive, visited the Aquarium.
And, today’s pics are from a visit to Point Lobos. Season, weather, light and tide were against some shots I hope to take one day, but there were still lots of beautiful things to see. Here are a few of them.
Teaser: The pelicans and sea otter are at the end. <\;~)>
We saw lots of Moon Jellys at the Aquarium, and I have some good images of them, but this is my first in the Wild.
People are nature’s creatures, too. A family of foreign tourists (Greek?) were at Whaler’s Cove, and included an attractive young photographer.
When not wielding her 60D, she did some nice, unconscious posing. A long lens provides opportunities for candid shots.
I like this one even better.
Providing the opportunity for a beautiful close-up portrait.
Messing around, I came up with an alternative treatment I rather like.
There are so many beautiful things to see at Point Lobos that it’s easy to overlook vistas that would seem special elsewhere.
I love the way Harbor Seals “strand” themselves on rocks as the tide ebbs, then let it float them off as it rises. I assume that means fishing is best at high tide?
Lone figure on the beach.
The way the water height and movement arrange seaweed is sometimes quite felicitous.
I’m used to seeing herons fishing in shallow water, standing perfectly still. Here is one standing on a seaweed “raft”, fishing in deeper water. I suppose the natural movement of the seaweed on the water doesn’t scare the fish.
A classic image, Monterey Pine against the sea. Do you prefer larger silhouette?
Or more tree detail and context?
The perspective compression of a long lens can surprise. I didn’t really think about it when taking this shot – just “Oh, pretty.” When I looked at it later, I thought “There’s no big island there!” Closer inspection and and web maps confirmed that it is Point Sur, 15 miles away! You can even see the low, sandy isthmus connecting the rock point to the shore.
Proof once more that the Earth is not flat, so maps are slightly distorted. Draw a straight line from where I was standing to Point Sur, and another headland should intrude into the picture, but it isn’t so.
I’ve never before managed to get a good shot of pelicans cruising just barely above the water.
OK, I admit it. I got a couple of so-so otter shots this trip. But I’ve never done any better, or even close, to some I took in June, 2006.
New Lens in my Hood – Old and New Hoods for it.
Something odd happened last week. Apparently under the control of some internal process over which I have little conscious control (Previously undiagnosed GAS?), I now have a cute little Panasonic 20/1.7 lens.
I can think of logical reasons. Much as I love the zooms, and the E-M5s high ISO performance, I’ve been carrying a 50/1.4 around on most trips as a ‘just in case it’s really dark’ lens. But I’ve also discovered that 100mm eq. really isn’t ideal for many/most indoor, existing darkness shots.
But I still haven’t quite figured out what to do with it. That will await the right situations. In the meantime … Panny doesn’t make a hood for it, so I went looking.
OK, eat your hearts out,all you folks with generic, ersatz, faux Leica hoods on your µ4/3 lenses. Here’s the real thing, an original, early Olympus M/OM, chrome and black, metal hood.
Adapted using a 46-49 mm step-up ring and a 49 mm filter ring to give the hood something to clamp onto. Technical fit seems perfect, too. A finger approaching past the corner almost immediately is visible in the view, but there is no vignetting from the hood.
This chrome and metal hood was early enough that I suppose it should properly be used with an early, all black, slightly domed lens cap with serrated edges. But it looks much better with the later design.
Another retro look, but far less cool looking, is a folding, rubber hood. I imagine they go back to at least the late 60s. I have a 52 mm one, made in Korea, that Dad used on his Nikon 50/1.4. The rubber is getting a bit soft, but it still works. This is a new one from B&W, made in Japan, so it should hold up.
The advantages are all about practicality, not looks. The hood easily absorbs any bumps, deforming temporarily, and not passing the impact on to the lens. It also forms a nice, small, protective donut around the lens when retracted.
And the existing lens hood fits onto it easily.
Christmas in Seattle – Part I
What do you do when it’s raining?
One answer is “Get out in it and shoot!” I did that, which the weatherproof combination of Olympus E-M5 and M.Z. 12-50 mm lens makes easy and fun. Another answer is to look for things of interest that I might otherwise overlook, shooting inside – or from inside.
This first post is about a series of shots I took that I think of as formal compositions. Forms, space, color, texture and their juxtapositions are more important to the image than the things photographed are, in themselves. Some subjects are obvious. Others may be a mystery.
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Rain can transform an otherwise ordinary subject.
A simple, easily ignored architectural detail provides material, perhaps at different scales.
A graphic design may interact with an unintentional graphic.
Breakfast in a retrofitted building.
In the Age of Brass, a elevator was more than just a box that goes up and down.
Some images are just mysterious as to origins.
Some slightly less so? Maybe you can guess?
Some totally mundane objects interest me when isolated and paid attention to.
Sometimes, we see through.
Sometimes, we see behind us.
I wonder if I would have found what was being said in this hall as interesting to my mind as my eye found it empty.
Some forms are fluid, with complex textures.
Others are formally rigid. Is this door a reflection of place? Function? Intentional rigidity?
What about this one?
Many architects have a great eye for visual presentation of simple form and color.
You may have guessed that I didn’t have special platforms nor used a view camera. Most of these images have been straightened from the perspective distorted originals. In this case, I removed the ceiling detritus of modern buildings, to retain the pure form of the design.
I don’t imagine that whoever placed the piano here had a visual composition in mind.
Perhaps whoever hung this giant reproduction of a Lempicka on the outside of the Museum had it made translucent on purpose.
Another architectural design that makes a nice abstract image.
Finally, a clue to one of the less obvious images above.
