01-22-13 The Promised Land

On the night before he was assassinated in Memphis, TN, Martin Luther King, Jr., addressed a small group of people. And in that speech he said

“Like anybody, I would like to live a long life--longevity has its place. But I'm not concerned about that now… I've seen the Promised Land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight that we, as a people, will get to the Promised Land.”

The cause he was in Memphis to help further was a strike by the newly formed Sanitation Workers Union, who were working to get better pay and improved working conditions. One of the signs that the strking workers carried said, "I am a man."Yesterday, as I returned to my hotel, I rounded the corner on to Peachtree Street in downtown Atlanta and encountered the Martin Luther King Day Parade. It was an eclectic affair, comprised of groups representing the Girl Scouts, the Boy Scouts, the "Free Tibet" movement. And many more.The group photographed here carried replica signs that copied and extended the message of the Memphis sanitation workers union: "I am still a Man."On the day after a black man took the oath of office for the presidency of the United States, I am left thinking about "the promised land." No, America isn't the promised land and I don't think Barack will lead us there. But I believe we have moved much closer to the promise that the US holds for all of its citizens.Two days ago, I gave up my seat at the front of the bus to an elderly black woman, who smiled pleasantly at me as she sat. I was not trying to make a statement. I was not thinking about race. I was only doing what was right. Today, I realize that perhaps my act stands as a small symbol of the promise King spoke about the night before he died.

01-21-13 Peace and Quiet

Today's image was taken only a short time after yesterday's and yet they seem to me to be a world apart. And, frankly, I enjoy the world depicted in this photo.This photo was taken at the High Art Museum of Atlanta and I was lucky enough to visit shortly after it opened on a Saturday morning. And for much of the time I was there, I had several of the galleries to myself, including this one of the top floor of the main wing.There is a juxtaposition of warm and cool tones in this photo, accentuated by the way my camera sees light. The wood floor is very warm of course, but the ceiling light (which is daylight) is obviously blue. Did the designers of this space consider this? I would guess they did . . .

01-20-12 Arrival

This location is a world apart from the abandoned farm photos I posted a week ago. I'll admit that I am more comfortable in the quiet expanses of the South Dakota prairie than I am in a underground train station. But both places intrigue me.

01-19-13 Peachtree Station

I am in Atlanta, Georgia, for a few days to attend the annual Imaging USA conference. And four of my Lake Area Technical Institute photo/media students are with me. It should be a good experience for all of us.This photo was taken on the run. I was more interested in getting to our hotel than taking photos but I couldn't resist when I saw this scene. But instead of taking my big camera out of the bag, I snapped a single iPhone photo.When I photograph architecture, I look for symmetry, which is kind of the opposite of what I look for in landscapes. But in both, I look for lines and texture. And there are lines and texture galore in this photo. . . .

01-18-13 For the Lunatics

This one is from the photo archives, though I don't think the moon has changed much in the 8 years since I took this.Canon 1DII 1/50s f/9.0 ISO100 400mm

01-17-13 Fall Color

I am balancing the rather lonely looking black and white farm photos with something that affects the eye and intellect differently. And no, these leaves aren't what I see out my window. In South Dakota leaves like this are long gone.

01-16-13 Prairie Home

This is the third photo of the same abandoned farmstead I have posted recently. And having posted this today, I am abandoning the abandoned farm theme. At least for a while.

01-15-13 At Ease

"And now," as Rocky would say, "for something completely different."Yes, the voyeur in me had to capture this scene: a man, sleeping quietly in a Denver, CO, park being watched by a squirrel. And, for my loyal readers, a trivia question: who was Rocky?

01-14-13 A Nice Bouquet

After a black and white weekend here at "A Photo A Day," how about a splash of color? And I have no deep thoughts today. . .

01-13-12 Ghosts

This is a closer view of one of the two buildings pictured yesterday. This photo was taken right around sunrise and it occurs to me that this old building has lived to see a lot more sunrises than I have.I asked my first year photography students recently to tell me what they thought a photographer was and Bjorn, a person whom I think has great promise, suggested that a photographer is a person who engages in time travel - that photographers have the power to take those who view their photos to a particular place in time. It was an astounding and unexpected answer. And of course, Bjorn's answer has me thinking. . . .I realize, for example, that while my photos allow me to do my own kind of time travel in that they help me remember things that I have seen and experienced, they also have the power to do the same for the viewer. You may have never been to this particular place, but it may remind you of similar places.Photos like this may have another emotive power, too. It's not hard to see the ghosts of those who lived at this farmstead. I look at this scene and can see the farmer's wife stepping through the door to check for fresh eggs, I can see the children playing in the tall, prairie grass and I can see the farmer working the distant field with his simple tractor.To me, this way of life exists in my imagination as I am a "city boy." But to many South Dakotans, this life still exists. It is as real and predictable as the the South Dakota sunrise.Canon 1DII 1/6s f/9.0 ISO100 17mm

01-12-13 Rustic

I took this photo on September 5, 2004, and it's been in a virtual shoebox ever since. As my regular readers perhaps know, I am a photo packrat and from time to time I go digging for stuff I did a long time ago. You will also know that I return to the same places again and again. And this old farmstead is a good example.What I like about this particular photo is the sense of loneliness it conveys. The black and white treatment and the odd, dull sky help with this. And speaking of the sky, the real reason I converted to black and white is that the interesting bands that seem to emanate from the right hand side, were not really visible in the original color version. These buildings still stand after all these years, though I suspect that someday they will be torn down."Nothing lasts forever but the earth and sky." Kansas - "Dust In the Wind"Canon 1DII 1/2s f/11.0 ISO200 29mm

01-11-12 #18,791

This photo is the last photo I took in 2012. I was entralled by the fact that the bag of chips got puffy as our airplane reached altitude. It was taken with my iPhone and given what I was trying to capture, it is a failure. It was also the 18,791st photo I took last year.I am posting a throw-away photo today so I can talk about two things that are running through my head:First, this photo is obvious proof that every shutter click doesn't generally produce a gem. My rough calculation is that I might get something that is close to as good as it gets for me about once every 1000 times I take a photo. That's a ratio that isn't very good and which is no doubt one of the evils of the digital era of photography. I have been reading about Edward Weston and he was much more deliberate and calculating in his photography. I need to be more like him.Second, I accept Malcolm Gladwell's thesis in his book Outliers that what we call "genius" is often a combination of the right genes and the right environment. But you also need to add in 10,000 hours of concerted and guided practice. By my calculations, not including all of the time I spent teaching photography last year, I put about 800 hours into my craft in 2012 (including the production of this blog). Eight hundred hours equals twenty 40 hours work weeks.The reality is that by Gladwell's suggestion, I have several years to go before I have a chance of being a genius. Or at least really, really, really good. Do I have the will? Will I find the right teachers? And will I ever feel like I've reached some kind of peak or pinnacle?The answers to the first two questions are "Yes" and "I hope so." The answer to the last is "Probably not." I quoted the poet Robert Browning yesterday in my first year photography class: "A man's reach should exceed his grasp. Or what's a Heaven for?"But at least we strive. . . .