Hard to believe this was shot in the same place and in the same hour as the one in the last post. But it was. Despite the stormy day, this shot is tranquil.
ICM does strange things — especially in a misty environment. The 25-foot waves were there. There are even some in this shot, but the mist and the intentional camera motion obscures them.
(Nikon D850, Nikon 200-500mm f/5.6E ED VR zoom. RAW processing in DxO PhotoLab 4.1; Editing in Adobe Photoshop.)
January 10, 2021 — San Francisco, California
Hard to believe this was shot in the city of San Francisco and not in the cold, cold North.
Also hard to believe I overlooked this on my first pass through the shots. (Well, not that hard to believe. There were almost 2,000 shots.) On the second pass though, it jumped out at me.
And I thought, “I’m looking at a theater.”
This is a hand-held long exposure shot. That’s why it looks more like a painting. All the streaking is very much intentional. Very little post-processing on this other than to emphasize or deemphasize some tones a little bit here and there. What you see is pretty much what I got. Yes, it’s a color picture.
This is for Gary Zweig.
(Nikon D850, Nikon 200-500mm f/5.6E ED VR zoom. RAW processing in DxO PhotoLab 4.1; Editing in Adobe Photoshop.)
January 10, 2021 — San Francisco, California
More big surf at Ocean Beach. Weather Service said 20 to 25 feet and they were right.
I shot 1,946 frames with an eight-pound camera/lens in a little less than three hours. Good upper-body exercise. Some of those shots used fast shutter speed and some slow. Some with camera held steady and some with intentional camera motion. Interesting phenomenon: Some ICM shots of heavy insane surf end up looking very calm. That could possibly become the basis of a philosophy if one needed some intellectual exercise.
(Nikon D850, Nikon 200-500mm f/5.6E ED VR zoom. RAW processing in DxO PhotoLab 4.1; Editing in Adobe Photoshop.)
January 2, 2021 — San Francisco, California
I went to Ocean Beach in San Francisco to shoot waves in dense fog for abstract or impressionist pictures. I did get shots for some of those. But the fog cleared for maybe thirty seconds and I caught this handsome specimen as well.
I rarely discuss social issues here. This is a photography blog. I will simply say that now more than ever I hope, wish, pray for sanity for this nation and the world in the coming year.
(Nikon D500, Tamron 100–400mm f/4.5–6.3 Di VC USD. RAW processing in DxO PhotoLab 4.1; Editing in Adobe Photoshop.)
December 26, 2020 — San Francisco Bay, California
Exploring the extremes of minimalism, one superfluous pixel at a time.
(Nikon D500, Tamron 100–400mm f/4.5–6.3 Di VC USD. ISO 100, f/22, 1/5 sec. RAW processing in DxO PhotoLab 4.1; Editing in Adobe Photoshop.)
December 26, 2020 — San Francisco Bay, California
And on the evening of Boxing Day, he intentionally moved the camera. And it was good.
(Nikon D500, Tamron 100–400mm f/4.5–6.3 Di VC USD. ISO 100, f/22, ½ sec. RAW processing in DxO PhotoLab 4.1; Editing in Adobe Photoshop.)
January 28, 2020, 11:29 p.m. — Jökulsárlón, South Coast, Iceland
Picked up from the Feb 21, 2020 post:
The plot thickened; the aurora action quickly moved to center stage.
This was taken when the Kp index of disturbances of Earth’s magnetic field caused by solar wind was 3.3. I can’t imagine how bright the top of the Kp scale — 9 — is. Maybe you really do need sunglasses.
And then… What’s this? Unidentified Flying Sleigh. It appeared out of nowhere, hovered for 10 and a half seconds, and then shot away to the north. Lucky shot.
The Muse and I wish you all a Happy Holiday Season and a healthy and sane 2021.
(Nikon D850, Tamron SP 15–30mm f/2.8 Di VC USD. f/2.8, 10 sec, ISO 400. RAW processing in DxO PhotoLab 3.1; Editing in Adobe Photoshop.)
December 9, 2020 — Big Sur Coast, California; Recently — My Office
This is not what I saw from the deck of Nepenthe.
This is what I saw from the deck of Nepenthe.
(Nikon D850, Nikon 24-120mm f/4G VR. RAW processing and initial editing in DxO PhotoLab 4.1; Final editing in Adobe Photoshop.)
December 9, 2020 — Pacific Grove, California
Taken a few minutes after the shot in the Dec 14 post. I’m not Rachael Talibart and I do not have easy access to the Sussex coast, but on this day the Pacific’s collision with the Monterey Bay coast did provide towering but very temporary structure. She names her works after characters in mythology, but here I’m reminded of the tail of a Boeing 707.
I do believe her titles are classier than mine. On the other hand, mine are nerdier than hers.
(Nikon D500, Tamron 100–400mm f/4.5–6.3 Di VC USD. RAW processing in DxO PhotoLab 4.1; Editing in Adobe Photoshop.)
December 9, 2020 — Pacific Grove, California
The fog rolled in like a silent locomotive, stayed for a few minutes, and rolled out just as quickly. As I snatched each of the muffled succession of enshrouded waves, visions of exploring the limits of high key filled my mind.
(Nikon D500, Tamron 100–400mm f/4.5–6.3 Di VC USD. RAW processing in DxO PhotoLab 4.1; Editing in Adobe Photoshop.)
December 9, 2020 — Pacific Grove, California
I’m slowly emerging from my cave…
A few days ago, the Muse and I headed south on a journey in search of Monarch butterflies and the manifestation of a high surf advisory — and for an Ambrosia Burger and glass of Santa Lucia pinot noir on the deck of Nepenthe 30 miles further down the Big Sur coast. We got there just a few days before sitting on the deck at Nepenthe would be curtailed for at least four weeks. Lucky us. But first:
No monarchs were to be found, which saddened us as photographers but even more as citizens of this planet. The rapidly dwindling Monarch population is an indicator, not unlike a canary in a coal mine, of worsening ecological conditions that are coming about as a result of climate change. Our neighborhood is planting milkweed to try to help the population regrow. If milkweed will grow in your area, please join us. Plant it where pets and small children can’t come in contact with it — it’s toxic — but please plant it.
The high surf advisory was accurate, however, and it afforded us a satisfying — I might even say thrilling at times — opportunity to capture some majestic waves. The trick is to find a low vantage point to emphasize the height of the waves without putting oneself in a position of becoming consumed by the wave, which puts a damper on the expedition and sort of defeats the whole purpose.
This is doubly important because it’s hard to enjoy an Ambrosia Burger on the deck of the Nepenthe when you have become part of the view.
P.S. The DeepPRIME noise reduction on DxO PhotoLab 4 has to be seen to be believed. This was shot at ISO 100, so didn’t need noise reduction — but when it is needed, it does wonders on shots even as high as ISO 25,600. No kidding.
(Nikon D500, Tamron 100–400mm f/4.5–6.3 Di VC USD. RAW processing in DxO PhotoLab 4.1; Editing in Adobe Photoshop.)
August 12, 2020 — Sonoma County Coast, California; Recently — My Office
Not to minimize the point, but minimalism brings me maximum enjoyment. If I can focus on the one thing that is the scene and reduce or completely banish the rest, it opens up a new world. The more I take away, the more there is to see. The first version was what I envisioned when I took the shot.
Then, as part of my immersion into black and white, I took another look at this image a few weeks ago. The other night I took yet another look. This time the color remained but almost everything else went away. I also broke a cardinal rule by going to almost pure white. The luminosity reading is 98 on a scale of 100 near the edges.
The evolution, early to late, is here for your perusal.
More to come.
(Nikon D850, Nikon 24-120mm f/4G VR. RAW processing and initial editing in DxO PhotoLab 3.3; Final editing in Adobe Photoshop.)
July 25, 2020 — San Gregorio, California; The past few days — My Office
Here’s the simple reason for my prolonged absence. Obsession. I’ve been deeply immersed in a Black and White post-processing and printing workshop which is taking me apart piece by piece as a photographer and gradually reassembling me with new eyes and new skills. I’m getting closer, but still not finished. (Not quite finished with the workshop. I’ll never be finished learning.)
This particular one has been a particular obsession. Still a work in progress. Although the ultimate creative decisions are mine, I’m nonetheless curious to see the responses of others. This group in particular.
Could you please offer me your thoughts on the following questions:
Which image has the most immediate impact? Why?
Which image lasts the longest for you — i.e. which would you want to live with? Why?
Thanks very much.
I’ll be back to regular blogdom as soon as I can. Meanwhile, stay well.
(Nikon D850, Tamron SP 24-70 f/2.8 Di VC USD G2. RAW processing and initial editing in DxO PhotoLab 4.0; Final editing in Adobe Photoshop.)
November 6, 2020 — Point Reyes National Seashore, California
Still absent from regular appearances in the blogosphere but I wanted to let you know that I’m still alive. Here’s a hint as to what I’ve been up to. A work in progress, but I’ll tell you: not a bit of color in this one, folks.
(Nikon D500, Tamron 100–400mm f/4.5–6.3 Di VC USD. RAW processing in DxO PhotoLab 4.0.2; Editing in Adobe Photoshop.)
December 26, 2017. The Sea Ranch, Sonoma Coast, California. It had been stormy. We spent Christmas hunkered down. The coast had been battered with wind and rain. For the longest time, it seemed, we weren’t sure if it would go on and on or if the rage would finally be over. We drifted off into an uneasy sleep with nothing resolved. The morning was still unsettled. But then suddenly it was over. The midday brought calming weather as the Earth shook off the pummeling it had recently endured. We were bathed a sense of optimism we hadn’t felt in some time.
And so it is here.
But as it is here, the horizon is perched on a precarious balance. Where, exactly, does light become dark or dark become light?
That’s up to us.
We’ve heard the word “healing” often in the past few days. An appropriate term.
We can say with some truth that certain individuals have been stirring the pot. They seem to be out, but they won’t leave without a fight. But the more important fact we must face is that the pot was already there to be stirred and the pot is made up of all of us — or at least nearly all of us. There may be a saint out there that I’m unaware of.
For years I’ve heard people on all sides say that they don’t understand, can’t fathom, can’t or won’t tolerate the viewpoint on the other side. They act superior. They say derogatory things, criticize, berate, and too often threaten. I say “they” as is I’ve never been a part of it. I wish.
There is healing to be done. Almost all people are good people at heart. They have their experiences, joys and hardships, beliefs, biases, and blind spots. Some are hard to understand.
But honest conversations with real give-and-take — face-to-face, not on social media — can work wonders.
It’s up to us.
(Nikon D750; Nikon 28-300 f/3.5-5.6G Zoom. RAW processing in DxO Pro; Editing in Adobe Photoshop.)
More Fine-Art Photography at www.amagaphoto.com
