Southern Gothic

Although I believe that I technically live in the South, it must not be the authentic Deep South cuz there ain't no damn Spanish moss around here. Yet, less than an hour away by car, it is all over the place. I think that humidity is more important than latitude in determining where Spanish moss thrives. The other day, I was strolling through an area where the live oaks were literally covered with the stuff, and I found it an interesting subject to photograph. On that day, I had both digital and film cameras with me and I feel like I could get good results with both. I tried to match the overall look of the images as well as I could, and I think I could pool the results from both mediums just fine, which is the main thing I care about. Anyway, last night I asked my son if he could pick out the film shot. He could, but it took a beat.

Tasting notes: Canon M6ii, 22 mm f/2 (left); Leicaflex SL2, 35 mm f.2.8, Pan F Plus (right).

 

Foraging

This is the season to forage for mushrooms. Some, like the surprisingly abundant chanterelles, are good to eat. Others, like the one shown here, are more photogenic than delicious. Speaking of which, the files from my new camera are pretty yummy. I really enjoy working with images in black and white unless color would add to the photograph. Increasingly, when converting digital images to monochrome, I no longer seek to replicate the characteristics of film, preferring at this point to let the digital files to speak for themselves. It has only taken me two decades to get here. Ha!

Giacometti people

With Fall already upon us and Winter rapidly approaching, the sun is much lower in the sky, elongating the shadows in the afternoon when we walk. Generally, I find it preferable not to walk alone, and I am lucky to have two companions with me on most days, my wife and a camera. It helps a lot if your human accomplice practices Tai Chi while you look for compositions in the landscape. That way, no one gets too bored, and you can encourage each other to keep up a decent tempo when you are moving forward.

I think we look like Giacometti people, like winter trees after their leaves have fallen to the ground. Over the course of a few weeks last Fall, I took a whole series images like this, chose the better ones, and made a dozen or so copies of a zine to give away to family and friends. They probably just tucked their copies away somewhere -- hopefully to be rediscovered many years hence. I have my fingers crossed that their future surprise will bring back fond memories.