Staying Young, Gracefully

We had a family birthday party for my daughter Jennifer last Saturday morning. She has loved my Mother's blueberry pancakes since she was a wee child and consequently, we tend to have her birthday celebrations in the morning.

As things were wrapping up, both my Mom and Dad had things that they wished to show me on their computers. Yes, computers…plural. They have adapted themselves to the digital age so enthusiastically, that sharing one computer just didn't work. It finally occurred to me that I should photograph this scene and share a bit of their story. Their full stories take up about 600 pages worth of autobiographies which they have both created for their family and friends.

Last year, they both turned 80 and next year they will celebrate their 60th wedding anniversary. Although they have both "retired" from their life-long professions, Dad as a printer, Mom as a school teacher, they both continue to be amazingly active. Last year they went to Thailand and Rwanda to help in missionary efforts and continue to serve the Lord and their fellow travelers through their church and other organizations.

So here is that photograph taken on Saturday, March 15, 2008 in the study of their home. The paper sign stuck on the wall over their desks reads "A Creative Mess is Better than Tidy Idleness." 

I would be inclined to agree.

Catching Up

Working on the blog has taken a back seat recently to a number of things, mainly the home remodeling project which has gotten stalled by the City of Fullerton's bureaucracy, AKA the city's planning department. But more about that later…maybe.

On February 20, we were treated to a full eclipse of the moon. The moon is one of my favorite photographic subjects and this event allows moon photography at its most spectacular.

The eclipse was scheduled to begin at 5:45 pm local time and achive totality at 7:01. The area had been under cloud cover the entire day and I thought there would be only a slim chance of observing the event. Around 6:10, I was ready to give up and head for home. As I was driving along Walnut Ave. in Fullerton, I saw the illuminated outline of some clouds in the rear view mirror. I stopped the car, got my gear out and soon the moon rose out of the cloud bank to the east. The rest of the sky was clearing.

For nearly an hour, I watched the shadowed portion of the moon increase as it rose in the sky. Metrolink commuter trains came and went as I composed and re-composed to accomodate the changing relationship of signal bridge and moon.

At 7:01, Metrolink 688 rolled by on it's way to a 7:04 stop. The red ghost of the moon stood out in the sky with the near 1 second exposure .

And in case you're wondering, I didn't use Photoshop to enlarge or reposition the moon.

The Lumber Starts to Fly

The last few weeks have been consumed by the task of dividing our worldly possessions into two parts: Those that will fit into our apartment and those that we can live without for six months. Of course, once they were sorted out, they had to be moved to the apartment or storage unit and I'm thankful for the relatives and friends that helped us accomplish that. Now that were done with that a reasonable facsimile of a normal life beckons.

Super Bowl Sunday was spent cleaning out one more closet in the house and finding room for those items in the storage space. After the last items were loaded into the back of my car, I spent some time alone in the place that has been home since 1993. The floors were dirty. Once when Amy was trying to put a shine in the kitchen floor she complained that she felt like she was polishing a turd. The formerly white carpets which seemed like a good idea 15 years ago were now multiple shades of brown and gray. I wasn't kind to the place in my bachelor days and by the time Amy came into my life things were already out of hand. Finally, after some difficult financial times we are in a position to fix it and start over. 

I've been taking a picture of the place every day I stop by after work. I'm assembling them into a Quick Time Movie that will show the progress to anyone interested. I'll add an image to it every time something changes. After it gets too long, I'll start another.

Meanwhile, I'll shut up about this and get back to photography and other pursuits.

Moving

We'll be moving over the next few weeks. This past weekend, Amy and I found a suitable apartment to live in during the home remodeling which could begin on February 4, provided the permit process goes smoothly. Our temporary digs will be located five blocks west of downtown Fullerton, meaning that we'll be able to walk to church, the train depot and the library.

It also means that the Unauthorized Observer will have tunnel vision for a few weeks, while we get ourselves situated.

Mama don't take my chromosomes away*

*As someone claims to have misheard Paul Simon's lyrics in his song "Kodachrome." 

The Death of Digital                          The Future of Film

For some shooters, it's that personal…using language borrowed from the gun lobby, one will say, "I'll give up my (insert favorite film here) when someone pries my cold dead fingers from around it." Actually, I prefer "When Ektachrome is outlawed, only outlaws will have Ektachrome." But I think you get the idea. Not every photographer has jumped onto the digital bandwagon as readily as I have.

I labored happily in old-school black and white photography for over 30 years. I loved the process of developing my film, filing the negatives (well, not really), putting one in the enlarger, making test prints and two hours later coming up with a print that did what I wanted it to do. Then it was washed, dried, mounted, spotted, matted and hopefully sold to an appreciative client. I loved all of it. I just couldn't keep doing it.

Having worked in the graphic arts industry scanning film into digital separations, I had a front row seat to see the progress that digital photography was making vs. professional film photography. For the longest time, it was no contest, but gradually, we'd see digitally generated images that were getting better and better. 

In 2004, I found myself out of the printing business and self-(un)employed as a photographer and graphic designer. My studio partner loaned me his Canon D60 one day and I was blown away by the results. Soon thereafter, I bought a 10D and paid for it with the first job I used it for. Furthermore, as a graphic designer, I appreciated the fact that I wasn't going to have to scan any film (or pay to have it done). Image quality? Even using a $150,000 drum scanner like I'd used previously, a 35mm slide would be hard pressed to match the image quality from that now-obsolete camera.

This created a dilemma for my personal photography. It seemed like I had three options.

1. Continue to use black & white film, even though I no longer had a darkroom.
   
2. Make black & white images from my digital equipment.
   
3. Make a clean and colorful break.
   

The first wasn't an option. It may be one someday, but I rather doubt it. I've had so much success scanning my old black and white negatives and printing them digitally, that I'm satisfied that I don't think I'll ever go back to the darkroom.

The second bothers me. It just doesn't feel right. So except for certain commercial applications, I won't be doing this. Often I look for ways to incorporate my old monochrome style into my chosen new medium, but I've always considered photography to be at its best when done in a straightforward way, and simply ripping the color out of an image doesn't seem straightforward to me at all.

Number three was the sharp left turn to the path I now travel. Actually, at the time of the switch, I was itching to do more color work anyway. After three years, I have few regrets. Well occasionally, I'll look at one of my old prints, or more likely, a friend's new silver print and feel a wistful tug. But generally, I just try to move forward and do the best I can with what's in hand.

Having said that, I'd like to clear something up. For my brothers and sisters who still use film and enjoy doing so, you have my best wishes. I don't consider you a Luddite, or technophobe or backwards in any way. I have no need to convert you to my way of doing things, or even convince you that my way is better. 

The year 2008 will be one of learning how to handle disagreements.

The Weather

Storm damage in Fullerton

We were all on "Storm Panic 2008" here in Southern California this weekend. A genuinely nasty storm swept down the coast and hammered the northern and central portions of the state with 100 mph winds, driving rain and heavy snow in the Sierra. But like anything (or anybody) that comes our way, it mellowed out considerably once it arrived. Last night there was some wind and some rain, but nothing of Biblical proportions. As you can see from this photo of my knucklehead neighbor's "compound" across the street, we lost a few palm fronds, but were otherwise unscathed.

Perhaps it was in 1982 that SoCal weather became a joke when KNBC hired stand-up comic, Fritz Coleman as an on-camera weather personality. Or it might have been 10 years earlier when KABC hired Dr. George Fishbeck to do the weather segments. Dr. George, as he was affectionately called, had a "face made for radio," classic funny nose & glasses, bow tie, wild gesticulations and a schtick that everyone loved. In his defense, he was a genuine meteorologist and introduced the term "marine layer" into the southland vocabulary. But he raised the ante in this town and forevermore, the citizens demanded that the weather be entertaining.

Now, we get our weather from Jackie Johnson who is entertaining only in a salacious sort of way. As one local blogger said, "Do you ever get the feeling that Jackie Johnson is just going to stop mid-sentence and say, 'Hey! My eyes are up here!'" Often while the news is on, I'll hear Amy say from the other room, "What's Jackie wearing?" Usually, all I can say is, "you'll just have to come see."

To be honest, the weather here rarely matters. By everyone else's standards, it's nearly always comfortable. Unless it involves fire.

First Night

Last night, the city of Fullerton put on its 17th annual First Night in Fullerton event. I attended the first one which occurred only two weeks before I moved to the city in January of 1992. The entire downtown area is closed to vehicular traffic and  a number of entertainment venues are set up throughout the area. Our church is located in the downtown area and always donates the use of the fellowship hall to host one of the performing acts and also sells food from the kitchen to help raise money for the hot meals which are served to the hungry every Wednesday evening from that same kitchen. 

This time, Amy and I got wind that our daughter Emily was headed for the karaoke stage around the corner on Harbor Blvd. Emily takes after her Mother in that she doesn't mind grabbing a microphone and singing in front of an audience. 

Until now, I've seen this happen in church or in one of her school concerts which are both venues guaranteed to have a sympathetic audience. Not that this girl needs one as things turn out. Several of the preceding acts consisted of 2 or 3 of her petrified schoolmates or older, highly lubricated divas from one of the bars along the street. Emily had them cue up Avril Lavigne's "Skater Boy," took her turn solo and just owned the place for the next three minutes.

Reminded me of Belinda Carlisle if you ask me.

For most of the others attending the event, the evening's highlight was the fireworks show scheduled for the stroke of midnight. Since Southern California was experiencing a "wind event" (in the current parlance of weather service), the fireworks show was somewhat subdued. The big aerial items stayed in the can this year and we all settled for some smaller, noisier ones. Still, there's something about big noisy fireworks that makes for a good way to bring in the new year. And during the last seven times, it's been nice to lean over and give Amy her first kiss of the new year.

This morning, the winds continue. Downtown Fullerton, the scene of last night's festivities is a deserted ghost town. The town plaza's main stage where rockabilly / country artist James Intveld held forth just a few hours earlier still has a few lights on, but now the only sounds come from the winds howling through the palm trees.

From me and my family to you and yours, I wish you a "RAEY WEN YPPAH"