Last of the Sunsets - honest

Well, I think I have milked two evenings in Spanish Point for just about all they were worth now. I had been disappointed that I hadn't taken any landscapes in a long time, as they were the reason I got interested in photography in the first place. Now I think that I need to take a break from them...

Must. Start. Blogging. Again

DISCLAIMER: The following post is long and probably boring. So don't be angry at me if you read it all and hate it.



Well, it has been the longest ever interval between posts in the short and troubled history of my blog. It's been so long, in fact, that I haven't the foggiest idea what a blog actually is anymore. I just have a strange compulsion to enter words into this here text-box and click on the 'publish post' button...

I need to ease myself into this slowly, like a patient recuperating after being unable to walk for some time. Nothing dramatic happened - I just got lazy and busy in equal measure, and found myself with less and less to say and no inclination to say it.

I think when I began, I had a purpose: to write something about my experiences with photography and a strange new place which I would remember over time. Then, returning home from Geneva, I moved in a new direction. I was a learner, and filled with the enthuiasm that one has when faced with a new and exciting field of knowledge, waiting to be explored. I learned new things about photography, which had a huge impact on my experiences of taking photos, on a daily basis. I wanted to share this with the world.

While I still have, of course, an enormous and infinite amount to learn, and still come across new stuff on a regular basis, the initial period of acquiring knowledge has slowed to a steady trickle - the dam burst, the flood washed over, and the regular river is all that flows now. This gave me less impetus to post. My enthusiasm for posting has subsided greatly. As I am now more-or-less comfortable with techniques, when I post a photo it is now, from my point of view, open to raw criticism. I can't dismiss criticism by excusing my faults by way of a lack of knowledge.* Now, my photos, for me this is, should be judged by how they are composed rather than if they are in focus. The quality of the lighting rather than the correct shutter speed and aperture. This is ever so slightly terrifying, but, there is more. I have a morbid fear of becoming self-absorbed. I have swore that this would not become a "what I did today..." type of blog. I could justify posting beforehand as it helped me to learn. Now that I have that bit more confidence, I find it more difficult to write, afraid of appearing arrogant. This blog is not now so much of a learning process for me, rather I wish to publish it for the outside world for the very first time. And that is were the real fear is.

Several photography-related things have happened to me since Christmas. There has been new gear: Two manual flashes and some radio triggers, with which I have been practising off-camera flash, mainly through the Strobist website. This has opened up a new and fascinating area for me, which I will hopefully write about here as I learn more. The publisher of the Strobist blog, David Hobby, has an infectious writing style. Read a couple of his posts and I almost guarauntee that you will, no matter how you felt before, agree that the coolest and most important thing that you can possibly do is to start using off-camera flash. I also bought a second hand Sigma 105mm f2.8 Macro. This is a lens that is so sharp and contrasty that is makes anything look good. It's astonishing, really. It has also opened me up to a new world, that which we do not see without really looking. The second thing that happened was getting short-listed in the amateur section of the World Photography Awards for this photo:



I didn't win anything, but my photo was one of 50 out of 25,000 entries. I was stunned, and although it was probably a one-off, I think I can ride on the encouragement it gave me for at least a couple of years.

Well, I said I would ease myself into this, and I have failed miserably. Before I finish, I'm just going to make a note of a couple of 'resolutions' which I will try and follow with regards to this blog:

1) I will try and post more than once a week.

2) If I don't have anything to say, or time to say it, I will still post photos if I have taken any.

3) Fear of embarrassment/appearing arrogant/self-absorbed will not put me off.

That'll do.

Here are some photos of the last couple of months, in no particular order:

Nothing on the top but a bucket and a mop...

After spending a couple of glorious days in Kerry - soaking up the only sun of the entire frickin' summer, I'm increasingly convinced that I have reached a potentially dangerous plateau with my photography. The last year has been largely exhilarating; learning new techniques, in the camera and afterwards in post-processing, as well as rules and tips about exposure and composition. And it worked. I'm not an amazing photograper - I probably never will be - but I'm almost immeasurably better than I was this time last year. Looking back at old photos is (sometimes painful!) proof of this.

However, the whiny emo at the back of my mind is finally telling me that my best stuff may be behind me; I reached my level and this is where it stays, ridiculous though this may be for somebody who has only taken photography seriously for less than a year. I've spoken previously about how my will to learn new techniques drives me forward and motivates me to take photos, and even though I view this as to some extent negative, an even worse scenario is one where I don't feel I can learn anything at all.

Perhaps I've just reached a stage where I am a technically competent photographer. Perhaps it is time to learn other, more important skills; how to think creatively and how to 'see' a photo before putting your eye to the viewfinder. I'm also extremely interested in the other side of the lens - controlling lighting and in some cases subjects. Skills I certainly don't possess at the moment. While I realise I have much to learn, I have a feeling I'll never get that concrete satisfaction you get from seeing an obvious, indisputable improvement in your work.

Gear is another issue; Somehow I feel that acquiring new stuff could be the key to moving off this plateau and back to an upwards slope in my photography, despite the irrational argument here. I have an almost painful lust for an ultra wide-angle lens (the Sigma 10-20mm), and although I try not to, I often think that it will be the answer to all my problems. Which it won't be. As it could be a long, long time before I can afford even that inexpensive piece of kit, I'll have to make do with what I have and not let it make me complacent and lazy.

After that musing, I should probably post some photos (the first time I post something without photos I will probably delete this blog - I'm bad enough as it is) As I mentioned above, I was in Kerry for a few days last week; one of the most glorious places on earth in good weather: one of the most miserable in bad. Luckily we had the former. Despite the weather, I came away with fewer 'keepers' than I was hoping for. It's difficult to make time for photography when you go away with one other person, but that's a subject for another day... Without further ado, some photos. Click on the image below to go to a slideshow of my favourite images.

Moment of Clarity

I was going to write a post with a couple of pictures - nothing special, but mainly as a celebration of how I had overcome a (fairly) lengthy period of photographer's block. But, I just had a slight epiphany while out smoking a cigarette so I felt I should commit it to virtual paper while it's still fresh in my mind.

I was thinking, as one does, about the reasons why I enjoy photography, and came to a somewhat depressing realisation, which may or may not be entirely true but certainly made me think. I've noticed a certain pattern in the way I take photos and my motiviation behind them. I spend a lot of time looking at photos I admire, and trying to emulate the ideas and techniques behind them. This I have no problem with - I think it's something everyone does and it is probably the best way to learn the craft.

My epiphany revolves around the way I do this, however. As I try to emulate these pictures, I will often try it out as a 'proof of concept'; I will attempt to take a certain type of picture, and even when I don't entirely succeed I am happy if I think that I have got the basic technique right and with a little more effort, or perhaps the right conditions, I could take a picture 'just as good' as the one which I am copying.

I think this probably started with those long-exposure water shots. I always wondered how they were done before I bought a digital SLR and was using a completely automatic point and shoot camera, and it was one of the first techniques I tried to copy when I bought my Nikon D50. I had some success, then read up on filters and bought a cokin filter set with an ND filter. Even though I haven't taken any photo of flowing water that I am particularly happy with, I am satisifed that I have the technique mastered, and unfortunately this has subconsciously made me think that this is ok - it's as if just believing that I could take a picture as good as one I have seen somewhere that impressed me is all I need to do. The picture itself has never materialised and up until now this didn't really bother me.

If the above situation was a one-off, then perhaps I wouldn't be worrying so much and writing a blog post whining about it, but the more I think about it the more examples I can think of. The following picture is a particularly good example:

As you can probably see, this picture is nothing special. However, it's perfectly indicative of my problem. I was always interested in taking photos of star lines, having looked at and admired many photos of the night sky with amazing circles of stars taken over a period of a couple of hours. So I researched what I needed - a tripod, a full battery, a wide-ish angle lens, a light-pollution free sky. I tried a couple of times with little success; I didn't realise just how bright the sky around cities is, or how much of a drain on batteries long exposures are. Finally, I was somewhere dark enough to take a picture, and I tried it out. I left the shutter for about half and hour or so, and got this. It wasn't very good, but I thought that if I had just left the shutter open longer, and perhaps composed the picture a little bit better, then I could have taken a picture just as good as those I admired. Again, unfortunately, the picture never materialised. This was enough.

Again, my infra-red pictures followed this pattern. I looked at photos. I read up on filters, which lenses didn't produce hotspots, and how to post-process the pictures. Eventually, after many failed attempts, I finally produced some pictures like these, which I blogged about in my last post:

I'm repeating myself now, but again, I wasn't happy with the picture as a whole - I don't think it has anything special. But, yes you guessed it - I was happy enough to leave it at that.

It's the same for others. Those ubiqutous long-exposure, sunset-and-rocks photos, the photos of a huge sun reflecting on the water, the list goes on. It's hard to believe that I've only just realised what I have been doing all this time, and worryingly, if this trend continues, I'll run out of techniques to try and stop having fun (I can't deny that I enjoy what I do - no matter what the problems are with it) That would be a disaster.

So I'm drawing a line in the sand. I'm going to take an infra-red picture that is as strong compositionally as it is technically. I'll do the same for good ol' sunset-water-and-rocks, and I'll take a well-composed picture of proper circular star lines. This post will remind me why I'm doing it, and I won't rest until I've posted at least one good example of everything I've tried. I've 'mastered' the proof of concept, now it's time for the real thing.

Spanish Point

Spanish Point is becoming a bit of a regular photography subject for me, but it's got more to do with the ease of getting there than the landscape itself. This time I was there for the hilariously titled "Willie Week", a week-long festival of traditional Irish music and hard drinking. It's OK, but it definitely doesn't get my heart racing. Here's a couple that I took earlier in the week:

And that was that. I'm starting to realise that there is something really obviously lacking in my photos, and that is people. I have a massive problem taking pictures of people; they always seem to come out wrong, no matter how hard I try. Taking landscapes is easy - I can experiment with different settings and take a lot of pictures of the same scene, especially with digital.

As I become more picky about the quality of light and time of day I take these pictures, that time is shrinking but it's still aeons compared to just one or two chances you get with a portrait. For some reason I find it incredibly hard. Just having one or two goes to take a pictures isn't enough for me yet, and I've got a bad feeling it's going to be a long time before it is. I've read at least as much, if not more about portrait photography as I have about landscape in an attempt to rectify my problem, and while I can (I think) see my landscape stuff going on at least a slow upward curve, the same is not true for the former.

This didn't really bother me up until now. I didn't want to photograph people; our beauty is nothing compared to nature's, for me at least. But I'm starting to realise that pictures need something - something to draw people to, with which they can relate to, and that in many cases is other people; so many of the famous photographs that my limited knowledge is aware of contain people's faces, expressions of joy, sorrow and anger are universal and will nine times out of ten affect us as a viewer so much more than a beautiful but vacant landscape scene.

Maybe someday it'll come, or maybe someday it won't. Perhaps I'll always photograph nature and stay away from people. And I might be happy - and get over this current disappointment. There's something a bit galling about looking back on years of photography in the future and not having one nice picture of people I know!

Sunsets, dogs and Torc Waterfall

There's somthing about the sun. There's something about snow, but there's also definitely something about the sun. Especially for an asthmatic smoking moron for whom coughing and spluttering seems like an inextricable part of life. Then the sun comes along and warms places that I didn't even know could be warmed, and stays. Waking up every morning with the sense, even before the eyes are opened, that it's going to be another perfect, blue-sky day, knowing that at least for the moment I can breathe like ordinary people. And of course it's great for photography too; crisp, clear colours, shutter-speeds as fast as you like, being able stay outdoors in comfort for hours and no danger of the camera getting ruined - it's like a dream come true.

Of course, being Ireland, it didn't last that long. One morning I woke up, and the sound of soft rain, almost inperceptible - like a TV with the volume turned down low on a channel of static, and the wet, the wheezing and the sneezing were back. Oh well, at least it's better than nothing...

Unfortunately I didn't take as much advantage of the photo-favourable weather as I should. My laptop had to be sent away, and I realised a couple of things. Without the immediacy of being able to view photos straight away, and scarily, the ability to do advanced editing on them, made me much less likely to take photos at all. I didn't realise how dependent I was on Adobe Lightroom.

Here are the only two photos I took over the last month or so that I am any way happy with. The first two were from Spanish Point:

I also went to Torc Waterfall last weekend, briefly, but of course full of expectation of a wonderful phototography opportunity. This didn't happen, of course. I don't think waterfalls could be any more of a photographic cliche if they tried. They're right up there with sunsets. I did manage to get a few that I quite like in black and white, however:

The Dawn Raid

In my last post I talked about how I got up at ridiculous o' clock in the morning to take pictures in UL for the photography competition, and how I was pretty disappointed at the results. I was expecting some kind of magic light that instantly produced classic photographs, just by the virtue of me being there. Well it didn't quite work out like that, although I did take a few that I was reasonably happy with.

Last Sunday, I made a second attempt. Not out in the University, but rather in Galway. The plan was to get up at about 4.00am, drive to the Burren, and take photos there at dawn and watch the sunrise. An ambitious plan, to say the least. Well, to put it this way, getting me and my better half up at that time of the morning was the equivalent of placing a bet on a drunk elephant to walk across a tightrope while singing the Mongolian national anthem... We didn't do too bad, however. We managed to struggle out of bed and leave Galway city at about 5.30. An achievement in itself.

However, it was looking increasingly unlikely, as we sped down the road, that we would make it to the Burren before the sun began to come up. The best light is supposedly just before sunrise, and the absolute worst case scenario was sitting in the car watching what was looking like an amazing sunrise. The sky was completely clear, just what we were looking for. We quickly made an improvised plan: we decided to basically turn west, and headed for the nearest bit of coast we could find. After some initial worry, we at last got to a dirty, muddy patch of the coast that didn't look in the least bit conducive to taking beautiful photos. I was secretly pretty disappointed at this stage - I felt like the early morning effort we had gone to my have been in vain. I was to be sorely mistaken, however.

Although the landscape didn't look awe-inspiring, it didn't turn out to matter at all, because the light was a wonder all to itself. I've never seen hues like that before, and looking back on my photos they have a slightly false look about them. The light took on a presence of its own, bathing the bare scene in just about every colour imaginable - with perfect tones; nothing was over exposed or too dark.

The other incredible (and difficult) thing about the early pre-dawn light is its dynamism; it changes virtually from second to second, and literally from minute to minute. Without moving the camera I was getting pictures that looked completely different as the time went by. It's exhilerating; it's hard to describe. You have such a short time to take photos, and the light changes so often I found my adrenaline pumping within minutes of setting up the tripod and camera - despite the early morning grogginess. The fear of ruining what is probably a once-or-twice a year opportunity is pretty immense. Anyway, here are the results: These are by far my best single crop of photos from such a short time.

And that was that. All the grumpy bleary-eyed early morning mood, the panic, the fear, and the exhilaration, culminating in these four, and maybe another two or three shots that I am happy with.

"A bit... pointless", some might say.

I say there's not much in the world I'd rather do.

As a side-note; we spent the rest of the day at our intended destination; the Burren. I was happy enough to largely forget about taking photos - I couldn't ask for much more that the morning, and besides, one gigabyte memory card will only hold so many pictures! I did get one I was pretty happy with, however. The photography gods must have been smiling on me that day.