The arcing forms of burning steel wool, mirrored and displayed in a “tiny planet” polar projects, put me in might of science-fiction technology or some demonic portal.
Tag: Canton
Fire Tube to the Portal
Burning steel wool makes for some really cool effects. With St. Lawrence University Photo Club, we experimented with illusions of depth and movement over the course of the exposure.
Ram on Bridge
There’s fundamental power in the laminated wood structure of this through-arch bridge (which I’ve photographed before), and I love the way it’s enhanced by the imposing pickup truck and the dramatic sky.
Flying Over St. Lawrence I
This image, taken from the air over Campus Security and with the restored steeple of St. Lawrence University in the background, might not be quite up to my normal quality standards. I find it more interesting for another reason: it’s the first (good) picture I’ve captured with a quadcopter drone. I have to admit, the potential of the technology for landscape photographers is pretty exciting. Now if I can just get a drone to carry something as heavy as my DSLR…
Strange Times at the Field
Sunset after an aggressive summer thunderstorm is a strange place of pinks and blues.
Movie Bridge
On this through-arch bridge going into Canton from the Adirondacks, I used the Brenizer Method to make a super-wide, narrow-depth-of-field image that brings to mind some slightly sinister movie scene.
Canton USA
My American town always reminds me of Thornton Wilder’s “Our Town,” and I think his comment about the play also applies to life in the North Country: “[It] should be performed without sentimentality or ponderousness–simply, dryly, and sincerely.”
Full River
Water levels in the Raquette River through Stone Valley (site of some excellent rocks) were quite high, leading to normally dry areas (like this one) overflowing with impromptu waterfalls. Surfaces and water levels in various areas didn’t want to match up, and made for a feeling like the whole river had been “assembled” out of order.
North Country Wetlands
Early spring is a great time to be in the North Country—all of the nature, none of the mosquitoes. The latter half of that equation has shifted as we enter July.
He Has an Idea
A lightbulb can be more than just a cliché for having an idea.
North Country Truck I
The North Country has some serious truck-lovers, and that solid sense of Northeastern populism, to boot. The bumper stickers on this particular Ford certainly embrace the North-Country-ish identity.
Redox Steeple
The new steeple on Gunnison Memorial Chapel is installed (remember when it arrived?) and beginning to react with the atmosphere around it. This chemistry, in which copper metal transfers electrons to non-metal atoms from the air to become an ion, is called “reduction-oxidation” chemistry—abbreviated “redox.” Seeing this reaction happen on such a large scale, and produce such an awesome array of colors, is a treat.
Winter Light Cones
Information cannot move through the universe (as far as we know) any faster than the speed of light. In the hyperbolically shaped world of spacetime, all factors that could influence my current state are in the “light cone” behind me, and all factors that I can influence in the future are in the “light cone” ahead of me. This photograph, from during a particularly nasty winter storm, exhibits light cones of another variety.
Decathlon Nationals
NCAA Div III Track and Field Nationals were held at St. Lawrence this weekend; this was a big deal for a town of fewer than 10,000 people. Extra seating was brought to the field, the whole thing was fenced off, and tons of extra staff were on-hand. This particular event, the last in the decathlon, was particularly amusing. The all-arounders who are decathletes are so much larger than the average track star that the event makes for an interesting comparison.
Leaving Canton
So this is it: Commencement was yesterday, the graduated seniors are gone off to their lives, and my miniature project to document the end of the school year is coming to an end, as well. The seniors graduated, packed, and evacuated in a single hectic afternoon. The strange calm when the dorms are emptied and the cars hit the road and vanish into the distance is what really gets me. (Though, of course, I’m very proud of my students, going out to begin their “real world”/grad school lives.) Over the course of this week, I’m going to translate those thoughts on “moving on” to a few other pictures of cars and trucks that I’ve taken—recently, and in the past. Consider this shot of my Mini as the first in the series.
Behind that car, positioned at the edge of Canton, is a view across the valley—a view of my surroundings that (in its own minor way) mirrors the equivalent shot I took two years ago of my surroundings from that time period. Though less dramatic, the North Country has its own summer vibe going.
Decaseconds 