HDR Photography
Coastlines are so common in stretches of California that they are just a bit mundane. The subdivisions and mid-twentieth-century houses along the shore just don’t seem exotic or strange enough for a “special” place. Seeing a picture like this one makes mid-80s synths play in my head.
After what was (I imagine) quite a battle in previous decades, St. Lawrence has only a couple of fraternities remaining. The Beta house is visible in the background, rather mundane and unassuming in comparison with its pearly temple building. Bracketed by trees, the building does a pretty good job of proclaiming its importance in the classical tradition.
I know the fundamental constants governing physical interactions remain the same (within experimental error). Precipitation isn’t changing the Planck Constant. In spite of that, reality seems subtly tweaked and upgraded on a drizzle-coated evening and shot through a wide-aperture prime lens. I’m sure glad the books in the Brewer Bookstore aren’t being “upgraded” by the rain.
As with my photograph of the Seattle Public Library, I’m exposing my inner hipster with these images. Double exposures had an element of serendipity and excitement when they originated from film cameras. I guess I’d call these more studies or experiments in how to bring together the landscape images I’ve enjoyed creating with the portraits I find myself taking for practical purposes: LinkedIn, passports, school webpages, etc.
With these imagines, in particular, I’ve played with the idea of “stacking” the face and the main subject of the other image (be it lighthouse or galaxy NGC1275 overlay data from the Hubble Telescope).
After a good rain even a shallow pool can look a little murky.
Students hike the cliffside where geological formations collide. On July 4th, let me compose an overly-ornate sentence about the season and the nation.
“Summer hiking in the North Country of America, at the edge of the Adirondacks: stripes of chlorophyll and aluminosilicate and tanninful water.”
If this week on Decaseconds has had a theme, it has been structures suspended over water at sunset. It has also been a week of long-exposure shots that live up to the site’s title. Hoards of gulls riding on the waves are reduced to weird ghost-blurs in the foreground of the San Francisco Bay Bridge, Yerba Buena, and the Port of Oakland.
Summer means hanging out on the dock and enjoying the view.
Adirondack-meets-elven style in this bridge over the Grasse River. The lights seem inviting; that’s probably appropriate, given that this is the bridge connecting SUNY Canton’s campus with the town proper. (I’ve explored the connection from another angle in the past.)
Though the architectural style isn’t as apparent from this shot, I love the sense of multiple pathways vanishing to infinity: down the river or across the bridge. So many places to go and things to explore. (And some proper long exposure to merit this website’s name.)
It’s too bad they demolished the Miles Rock Lighthouse, it looks like it would have a great photography subject. As it stands, what’s left looks like the remnants of some kind of sea fortification of a bygone era.
Walking by Grasse River under a tree-shaded path sounds romantic. As overtly charming as the sunset hour can be, I find that I prefer the photographic version; there are a lot fewer mosquitoes.
Campus is (mostly) empty. The longboards and snowboards and ancient bikes are packed away. Any motion grabs attention—even shadows and lens flare.
It’s awe inspiring to ponder the forces that worked to deposit these rocks on the top of a mountain.
Heritage Park (on the left of this image) on the Grasse River in Canton came into existence through the efforts of many people in the community. Yesterday evening, a fundraising event was held to support those efforts. Nature turned up in full display to support the festival.
Decaseconds 