My pursuit of photography has revealed many life lessons.  Be prepared, be present, observe, listen, practice, you can't control the outcome only the opportunity...these principles are what have been imprinted in me as I have immersed myself into photography and they have in turn left an imprint in my life perspective. 

 

This revealing self-observation leads me to a small personal confession...I'm tone deaf and have the grace and rhythm of a burlap sack.  In reality, if you ever heard me sing or watched me dance you would already know that.  In most circumstances, these deficits could be overlooked provided I stay away from singing in public and all situations that involve me stepping onto the dance floor.  So, why is this pertinent to my photography pursuits and how is this relevant in my life? 

 

First for the pertinence:  Of late, I have been favoring the moment more than the technique to capture it.  I spend more time in observation with my naked eye watching scenery unfold as opposed to viewing behind the lens and fussing with exposure settings.  Granted, this doesn't bode well for my advancement in photography, but it has become my preference when seeing God's creations and wanting the purest connection to the experience.  For me it comes down to, as an example, the difference between viewing an amazing concert or theatrical production live in person versus watching a video or television presentation of the same event.  So lately I snap a few shots and try to capture the moment, but my focus and energy are on the reality of what I am blessed to see live without the "obstruction" of a camera.  In reviewing my photographic images, I have been much more entranced by the reflection of the moment as opposed to the "correctness"of the photo. 

 

Now for the relevance:  My precious youngest daughter was married a couple Saturdays ago, and while a few traditional items were discarded for her big day, the father/daughter dance was not one of them.  So as she asked me to join here in this key ceremonial passage, I was both honored and horrified.  I immediately began to calculate how many would actually be attending the reception, of course hoping for a small crowd to limit the number of people I would expose to my, shall we say, creative dancing skills.  As I thought through the honor of being asked by my daughter to join her in "the dance", I began to feel a small sense of relief as I realized that most father/daughter dances were slow and traditional.  This meant that if I could slowly move in a circle without tripping over myself or my daughter, I would be just fine.  That comforting thought only lasted a moment as my daughter shared with me what she had picked out...an up beat song by Paul Simon.  It is a beautiful piece that speaks to the heart of my relationship with my daughter, but is awkwardly in that space between fast and slow.  So here's the life lesson...that moment on the dance floor was one of most rewarding and special shared experiences I have had with my daughter.  Words cannot express the pride and sense of joy I felt for her and the life she was about to begin with her new husband.  As for the dance...my guess is that we were off beat and not on tempo, but there has never been a more important moment for a father to share with his daughter. The grace and beauty of the moment far exceeded the grace of our movement and created a memory I will cherish for the rest of my life. 

 

The lesson for me is that in photography and in life, I will favor God's gift of the experience over the manufactured reproduction of the image. As it relates to the dance, every step taken between a father and a daughter together in unison represents a loving bond that is immeasurable by standards of beat and rhythm.

 

 

 

 

 

This post has little to do with photography, but much more to do with life.  There are few things in my life that are as precious to me as my daughters.  Actually, there is nothing in life more precious to me than my daughters.  About a year and a half ago, I gave the hand of my baby girl to a young man and they have been blessed with a wonderful life together and I am filled with such joy over the young couple in love they have become.  I spend as much time with her today as I did before her magnificent wedding and I am struck that my "giving her away" has actually enriched the relationship we share.  Today, she chooses to be with me and share simple walks and talks to discuss everything relevant and many things that are not.  I find her attention to be extraordinarily special to me given so many other things that press for her time and that I still rate high on her list. 

 

My youngest will exchange vows with a young man this weekend, whom I will offer her hand, and I am captivated by the transformation that will take place in her life and mine.  There will be no more daughters at home at the end of this week and many years awaiting my beautiful wife and I to figure out where our relationship will take us as empty nesters.  As for my daughter, she will enter a new phase in her life that will not necessarily include impromptu runs, hikes and bike rides with her father.  She is a driven young woman and a tremendous source of pride for me who will settle for nothing less than a life full of unique experiences, travels and explorations for which I am certain her soon to be husband will be up to the challenge.  I will miss our quiet discussions together while spending time outdoors, but I am left with the hope and prayer that like with my oldest daughter, in letting go, I will be enriched with even more cherished time together. 

 

As for the soon to be empty nesters, not to worry, I have a feeling we will certainly figure out how to "manage" the rest of our loving days together as we did before we raised this beautiful family of ours.

 

God bless our precious girls and the beautiful lives before them...

 

 

 

I've spent many hours reviewing the photos from my first year of photography and was struck by a common theme.  The photos that I appreciate the most and feel represent the essence of who I want to be as a photographer were actually images that caught me completely by surprise.  These most memorable photos were taken from opportunities and circumstances that where completely out of my control.   They were moments when my attempts to orchestrate or control a setting failed and in the disappointment my eyes were lifted to an image that far exceeded anything I had imagined in my original plan.   

 

One of my favorite examples of this occurred while trying to capture a beautiful midsummer sunset.  Hazy evenings of the long summer days in the valley often yield beautiful sunsets that when placed in a properly composed setting can generate a stunning landscape photo.  I spent several evenings last summer chasing the optimal sunset that would bring about the most dynamic colors to paint a beautiful landscape.  One summer evening I watched through my camera lens the sun diving behind our coastal peaks to the West snapping the shutter in multiple successions in hopes of capturing the most pristine moment.  After the sun set, I looked at the stream of images in the viewfinder and was somewhat disappointed.  I had planned the location, timing, exposure and yet the photos failed to meet my expectation.  As I turned around to head back to my vehicle, I realized the sunset show I was looking for was actually happening behind me all along as the setting sun in the West was casting this immense light that generated brilliant colors against the haze and the peaks of the middle cascades to the East!

 

There are many examples from the past year that reflect a conscience effort on my part to "set up" a shot that often was surpassed by the majesty of a moment taking place in close proximity, but outside of my control and original intent.  I always want to believe that the "wins" in my life are of my own doing, but can honestly only give myself credit for being present when they happen.  I believe I have the drive to be present in my photography and many other areas of my life, but time and again I am reminded of my true nature and thankful for the grace I am afforded and the blessings that I receive. 

 

Michael