End of Sunday slide month… something

empty windows paired up in abandoned building
And so we come to Sunday slide 53, which we could only accomplish because Sunday was the first day of the year and, accordingly, the last too. But that meant we’d also have to do an end-of-the-month abstract, and I thought about this as I scanned this slide a few months back. Was there a Sunday that also fell on the last day of the month, to use this abstract? Yes, there was just one opportunity remaining. And here we are.

The photo came from a spot near the Haw River, where a channel had been diverted to feed a mill, now long abandoned because, hell, who needs easy natural power when you can use petroleum products!? But I suppose the reduced demand for ground wheat and flour and such played a part, what with all the vegan granola fruitdaddy people eating their grains straight off the stalk in the fields anymore. Regardless, the two windows lining up attracted my attention, with a subtle nod to the curious juxtaposition of weathered bricks and the smooth facade way in the back there. It’s not my normal subject matter, but I’ll grab shots like this when they strike me.

But wait! Today, believe it or not, is Kill Three Birds With One Stone Day. So of course I’ve got my last Sunday Slide in, and the end-of-month abstract, but what else should I do with this post? The answer should be obvious, naturally: we’ll also observe Kill Three Birds With One Stone Day. I love it when it all comes together like this, not contrived or anything.

Spot the six differences

two versions of sapling reflecting in still lake
The image on the right, at least, you may have seen before – I believe I’ve used it twice on the blog. I stumbled across the version on the left while searching for some images for a present project, and it’s only two frames previous to the right one. Both of these are not cropped, by the way – I’m impressed that I managed to frame the two of them so closely together while clearly having moved the camera significantly in between. But we all know how easily impressed I am with myself (otherwise this site wouldn’t even exist.)

Okay, if you’re trying to find five more differences, don’t bother – there was only one. Or one that I know of; if you found more, tell me, because there was only one change that I made intentionally between frames, and if there’s more then I’m really curious who else was screwing around out there. Not that it’s going to do me any good now, since it’s been twelve-and-a-half years since these were shot.

But yes, that rock – I decided the composition would be stronger without that lower rock in there, and removed it carefully so as not to stir up too much silt – if I remember right, I waited a short while for the water to clear, and the time stamp tells me there was about 90 seconds between the frames, so no evidence of age-related incompetence yet (I thought I should qualify that.)

I realize that a large number of viewers might react in horror over the prospect of interrupting the natural order in this way, and believe me, I debated about even posting this – there’s a distinct chance that it will make me a pariah in the community. Okay, more of a pariah. Okay, I don’t really belong to any community to begin with. Okay, the words you’re reading constitute the sum-total of my social interactions, period. But I can still agree how terrible it is that I interfered in this way, and I truly feel ashamed about it. If you’re reading these words, it means someone else came along and posted a draft that I had sitting in my blog folders because I never could admit to this on my own.

As for the frame in between? I can find no sign of it, so apparently it didn’t pass muster and was discarded – I know, I know, I’m sorry, but it happens sometimes, even to me. Even seasoned professionals find events occur outside of their control, once in a great while.

[Just because my conscience is making me, I feel obligated to point out that the ‘average’ keeper rate among professional photographers seems to fall around 25-33%, meaning they throw out two to three times as many photos as they keep. There’s a lot of variation, of course, but the message to anyone is, there is no such thing as always taking the photo that you wanted or intended.]

While looking to see if I had that intervening frame someplace, I stirred up another set of images from the same trip, taken within a few dozen meters. On at least one occasion, I thought one might make an appropriate “greenery” image, until I realized that the thick and vibrant plants in this frame are almost entirely poison ivy (Toxicodendron radicans.) Not the message I wanted to send at the time, at least.

lush and enthusiastic thicket of poison ivy Toxicodendron radicans

Sunday slides 52

macro photo of variety of fungi and lichens
In 2006 I had just returned to the state again, after spending time in Florida, Georgia, and even briefly in Texas, and near the little duplex townhome in the woods that I was renting, I came across a marvelous landscape of fungi and lichens, all only millimeters in height. In fact, this entire frame could easily have been obscured by a leaf. I loved the alien nature of it, grounded in reality only by the foreground plant, and sprawled on the ground to get as much detail as I could in the shot.

Looking at it now, I kind of wish I’d done a lot more experiments with the position and framing, something that digital has encouraged at least – as slides, each frame cost me a little bit, and there’s only so much marketability of such subjects. If I come across such a scene again, I’ll be tackling it with better lighting and higher magnification options, so maybe one day we’ll see how different it could look.

Funny, I was thinking that I’d used a slide from my stay in Georgia sometime during this past year, but I’m not seeing any (as I search for a pertinent link to include up there with the others,) so I guess it’s incumbent on me to provide one. Lucky me, I already have something scanned.

suspended drop of tree resin
My time in Georgia was brief, less than a year, and not really brimming with opportunities to do much shooting. It was, however, the time period when the structure for this very website was first produced. This was back in 2002, and I’ve only done small updates in the structure since then – I’ll let you decide whether that’s a good thing or not.

But at one point, wandering in a local park, I spotted this long dangling drop of tree resin catching the sun, which is perhaps more rare than you might think – usually such things occur in deep shadow, or at least, close enough to the trunk that getting a decent angle on it is next to impossible. Therefore I was pleased with this one and took advantage of the opportunity, and liked that I got a little glimmer out of the sunlight along the bead at least.

Up in the air

herring gull Larus argentatus winter plumage preparing to dive
Ha! Another title pun! This one not only deals with aerial subjects in the photos, but refers to further developments on the site that haven’t yet come to fruition. Such depths to the humor!

[Ahem] So, I did manage to get out for a shooting session recently, though mostly what it did was emphasize how little there is to shoot right now. This was a student outing again, and we mostly concentrated on practice with long lenses and semi-unpredictable subjects, in this case birds. I’ve said before, I don’t pursue birds as subjects too much, especially not songbirds – just not my thing. Which isn’t to say that I’ve never done it, nor specifically avoid it, and there’s a skillset involved in two particular aspects: following bird movements, and predicting their behavior. These are true enough for any wildlife really, but with birds, opportunities can appear and disappear in fractions of a second.

Above, we see a trait that can be telling all by itself: the abrupt “backpedal,” the slowing, pause, or even hover in midair that can signify something interesting is about to happen. For herring gulls (Larus argentatus,) as well as any diving bird like terns, eagles, or osprey, this often indicates that they’ve seen something interesting below and may be about to dive for a meal.

By the way, the image above is cropped a little bit, partially to reduce the distractions of the background, but also because it’s usually not a good idea to be shooting too zoomed in or tight on birds. Tracking their movements is a lot easier when you have some wiggle room in the frame around them, space to compensate for their changes, as well as some forewarning of what is about to happen in the background – panning past something particularly photogenic, or exactly the opposite. Staying “back” a little bit helps keep from cutting them off, makes it less likely to drop them from the focus area (causing the autofocus to wander,) and lets you time shots for ideal backgrounds – you can always crop in tighter later on, and can also use this opportunity to frame the subject more appropriately, something that can be hard to do on the fly.

Being back too far, however, and making the bird too small in the frame can also be bad for autofocus, as well as for exposure – the camera reads too much of the bright sky with the bird being too small to affect the meter, and the exposure gets set for the sky and not the subject. Very often, it helps to overexpose such shots by a few thirds or half-stops to keep the subject from becoming a silhouette.

If you’re on your game, you can occasionally capture moments of drama exactly as they occur. Catching them every time requires skills more advanced than my own.

herring gull Larus argentatus almost completely submerged
The same gull seen at top did indeed go in for the kill, and I tracked it down but missed the crucial moment of contact. However, I’m cool with this shot only a fraction of a second later; by itself, it might have been a bit too confusing, but following behind the descending gull above it’s pretty clear what’s going on, and it illustrates how deep this one went (unsuccessfully, I might add – I don’t think we saw any fish consumed that day.)

A quick word about timing. It can be very hard to time something in particular with birds, especially something like catching the wings in an optimum position. Many people believe the solution to this is to set the frame rate for continuous, where the camera keeps firing off shots as long as the shutter is held down; they imagine that one of the frames is bound to capture the action. This isn’t often the case, however, and continuous shooting should not be mistaken for, like, video. Most video rates are 24, 30, or 60 frames a second, while the fastest frame rates for still photos might run as high as 10 frames a second, but more often in the realm of three or four. This can actually miss a lot of action, and can even synchronize with wingbeats so that, even if you fire off 30 frames, each one captures the wings in the wrong position. Sometimes it’s worth the try, but don’t count on it to capture the shot.

There’s only so much you can do with gulls, however, and since we were near the airport we did a short session of aircraft chasing. Now, I’m a flying enthusiast, but don’t chase plane photos any more than birds; even less, in fact. There’s only so much you can do or show with aircraft photos, outside of things like airshows or actually shooting from something airborne. So I managed a few shots, but didn’t see a lot of fartistic stuff happening.

NCDOT Sikorsky S76 seen against possibly undulatus asperatus clouds
I’m more a helicopter enthusiast than planes, especially over commercial airliners, and so fired off a number of frames as the NC DOT’s Sikorsky S76 banked in on final approach. There’s nothing remarkable about the shots, except that I captured a thin example of a cloud formation that I failed to notice while I was there – partially because it was so distant. To the best of my knowledge, this is a tiny formation of undulatus asperatus clouds, another example of which can be found here.

WTVD 11's AS-350 news helicopter against tumultuous sky
I captured a little more cloud and helicopter action as an Aerospatiale/Eurocopter AS350 cut across the sunset. This is most likely WTVD’s “Chopper 11,” because they’re one of the only two news helicopters to operate out of the region, the other being a Bell 407, and because I saw it sitting on the apron before it departed in the same direction that this one returned from. Plus the ENG camera and transmitter are in the same configuration so, you know, sticking my neck out here identifying a bare silhouette. The tiny section of sky captured in the shot makes it look stormy and dramatic, but in reality this was a small patch near the setting sun on an otherwise humdrum sky. Nonetheless, I started firing off the frames as it passed the colorful bits, and picked this one from among the collection.

Still working on scaring up more material and the time to post it. Bear with me.

Sunday slide 51

bridge to unnamed island on Haw River
So some years back, Jim Kramer (the Official Other Blog Image Contributor) drove us out to a small island in the middle of the Haw River outside of Burlington. At one point well in the past, the island had been occupied, with the remains of a house thereon, and at the time of this image access was still available on foot, though the road up to this bridge was closed to any vehicles. It was a neat little area, even though we visited on a pretty crisp day, and I would certainly like to return, but sometime in the intervening years access has been closed off by the property owner, so it’s not an option unless they happen to be reading this and realize what kind of fantastic images I can provide them. Yeah, anyway…

Now, my attempts to mess with the reader notwithstanding, I’m wondering if this image conveys the same thing to others as it does to me, so feel free to pause for a moment and suss out the ambience or whatever.

Because I like to think that the condition of the bridge gives a good idea of its age, and the feeling that this is not in regular use anymore – it’d be nice if the graffiti wasn’t there, but there are people everywhere whose minds are as small as their penises, it seems. Is there a hint of abandon and loneliness in the image? Does it seem to imply something long forgotten? I’m not sure how successful the image is in these regards, but at least I like the dramatic lines and angle. Looking at it now, I wish I’d done some more images with the dark shadows at the far end, making them more prominent and foreboding – a little contrast with the bright light and colors here where we stand, and the gloom that you will enter if you dare to cross the bridge. I constantly advise working with interesting subjects in as many ways as possible, to see how many different moods or perspectives can be portrayed, so I’m always a little irked when I think of something afterward, especially when I can’t return.

Blogging conditions: 2

Yeah, sorry, I really haven’t been posting much at all, and while I’m aware of it and trying, there really hasn’t been a lot to say. Photography has dropped down to almost nil, and I’ve been busy with countless projects (one of which, at least, will eventually be evident,) and also recovering from some walking difficulty which makes me understandably reluctant to go out looking for photo subjects. On top of that, the cold weather plays havoc with my sinuses and it can be literally painful to be outside at times. Things will pick up at some point, I promise, but for now there might not be a lot to see here.

large leaf cocoon, possibly polyphemus moth Antheraea polyphemus, hanging from treeOn the last photo outing a couple of weeks back, I didn’t get a whole lot of photos of interest, but did run across this large cocoon, approximately five centimeters in length and three in girth. Due to the appearance and size, I’m leaning towards this being the work of a polyphemus moth (Antheraea polyphemus,) but if questioned I will categorically deny any and all certainty. I could simply have collected it and kept an eye on it come springtime to see what hatched, but I tend to leave things where I find them unless I have a specific project or need in mind. If you’d like to see what an adult looks like, I have photos of one here, but I’m kind enough to warn you (it’s nearly christmas, after all, and I’m still hoping to get a Porsche) that they don’t show until after you scroll past a wickedly large and, uh, aesthetically-challenged spider.

However, we’ll go in a bit closer to this cocoon to see the detail, which came up quite well at this particular light angle and revealed the actual construction material; from normal viewing distance, the cocoon appeared to be fairly uniform in color and texture, easy to believe it was entirely silk. Going in close with the Mamiya macro lens again (rather than, for instance, backing off a couple of meters to use a 150-600mm lens, which would be just silly,) we can see the true nature of the materials at hand. And going still closer, but showing a tighter crop at higher resolution, we get some almost-tactile textures from the shot:

detail of large leaf cocoon, possibly of polyphemus moth Antheraea polyphemus
What I like about this is how the leaf veins can almost put me in mind of, you know, veins that carry blood, which changes the impression from, “oh, yeah, leaves,” to, “oh god it’s got veins!” Leaf veins are fine, but fleshy veins are creepy, you know? Okay, never mind.

But if you want a challenge, so if you can discern when one leaf stops and another begins.

spiraled buds of phlox with raindrops
stray phlox blossom hanging from invisible web strandBut to just get something up here, we’ll go back earlier in the year (and perhaps further) for a few images that I never did post when I got them. There’s no theme here, or much reasoning behind guilt and obligation to actually maintain content and remind people that yes, the blog is still active.

Above, buds of a variety of phlox showed off their lovely spiraled nature, offset with a raindrop, while I was touring UNC Botanical Gardens again, mostly chasing anoles. Raindrops in flower gardens are a nice opportunity for extreme macro work, in that they can act as lenses and, if you live a clean life and get very lucky, you can get miniature images of the flowers in the background through them. It takes nice round drops (so, generally hanging,) and the right position of a blossom in the background, so it’s a lot trickier to arrange than it might seem at first, and did not come about this time around. I have more than a mild suspicion that, of the many times that I’ve seen examples, more than a few were artfully staged, the drops (and possibly even the flowers themselves) placed there by opportunistic photographers.

Not too far away on another plant, a conspicuously-dangling blossom alerted me to the possible presence of spiders, which you should know by now are routine subjects of mine. Some varieties of white crab spider can develop accent patches of color very close to these flowers and so I was keeping my eyes open, but it was not to be on this trip. Which isn’t to say that I’ve never seen them.

central detail of pond lily blossom
This one was taken at the same time as these, but didn’t fit my purposes then, so it appears now. This is a tighter crop of the center from the original, because I liked that detail and the contrasting colors. This is purely natural light, by the way, from a slightly hazy day, with saturation and contrast boosted slightly to compensate for the lack thereof from the light, a typical setting for such conditions.

cecropia moth Hyalophora cecropia caterpillar being bashful
I’ve had this one sitting in the blog images folder since this post, because it was too similar to others therein, but I liked it for the lighting and position and knew it would reappear someday – today’s the day! I’ll let you provide your own impressions of the image and what it says to you, and merely point out a curious detail: we’re seeing this cecropia moth caterpillar (Hyalophora cecropia) from the hind end – you can see the array of legs clutching the branch extending towards us at the bottom of the image. My subject was reacting to the perceived threat of a nature photographer (you know how we are) and curled up protectively, so I had to reposition myself to get the face shot. There’s just something about the deep shadows and the near-translucent skin…

And to close, we go back to last year, from a trip to Jekyll Island, Georgia. Out doing sunrise on the beach, I came across a couple of deceased sharks, just slightly longer than my foot; one of them bore a moderately-sized wound, but it was around the gills and appeared to be post-mortem to my untrained eye. I later found out that the inlet that the beach borders is a breeding ground for sharks, apparently because of its conditions, though what exactly those might be I cannot say (me and the sharks have a non-disclosure agreement.) I didn’t pass on the opportunity to do a couple of fartsy, supposedly poignant shots though, using the pristine sands scoured smooth by high tide and so-far-untouched by tourists. Except lone nature photographers. You can decide if you like it or not (the pic, I mean, not nature photographers or the habits thereof.)

washed-up juvenile shark on Driftwood Beach, Jekyll Island at sunrise.
Don’t give up on me yet – I’ve got more stuff in the works.

Sunday slide 50

curious colors and textures in bark of unidentified tree
Many years back I sometimes hired myself out for various photographic jobs, and one of them was for the museum. They had an ancient parchment map delineating the borders during an unknown period in European history, and wanted some detailed photos of it so they could make measurements without chancing damage to the fragile original.

I’m lying again – the real story is almost as interesting, though. This is the bark of a tree, and the entire photo spans about the length of your hand if I remember right (I’m not sure I’m accurately recalling how long your hand is.) The colors and lines seen here are perfectly natural, but I couldn’t tell you if they were ‘normal’ for this kind of tree or if this is evidence of some kind of fungal infection, or parasite activity, or what, really. I’m almost certain I had photographed the exact same tree a few years before, but wanted to redo the shot with greater depth of field, and eventually happened across it again; this seems to tell me it’s not a common trait, at least. This is from 2001, and from the trails alongside Falls Lake.

If you can enlighten me about this at all, feel free. Meanwhile, come spring I may check out those trails again and see if I don’t run across the same kind of thing. In sixteen or more years, the tree may be radically different now, if it’s there at all. I’ll try not to leave you hanging.

Tell me what you think

Among the other things that I’ve been up to, when I’m not posting as regularly as I should be, has been studying art in an effort to improve my photography. It’s led to some interesting speculation about how we interpret some particular pieces, and made me want to throw it out there to my myriad (3) readers to see if you had similar reactions. So here are a couple of images for your consideration, one of mine and one that’s not, to provide a comparison. Feel free to chime in and tell me what you think.

great blue heron against contrast reflections in water by Ansel Adams
This one is by Ansel Adams, which I think most people know by name even if they’re not necessarily familiar with his work. Here’s what he himself had to say about it, as quoted from Adams: The Mystery and The Passion from Haubercourt Books:

When the heron paused and raised its head, I was struck by the interplay with the post-sunset light on the ripples of the river, and quickly tripped the shutter. The complete silhouette actually meant that there is no heron there, just a heron-shaped gap in the alternating pattern of light interference. It put me in mind of white noise and static, the hallmark of the industrialized world, and how nature provides a break in the cacophony. The fluid lines and curves of the waterfowl distinctly offset the linear aspect of the background, telling us of the grace of a world untouched by Man.

To me, that’s a lot of what art is: recognizing the metaphor and symbolism that can be drawn from the image, and I’ve been finding it interesting seeing how the more-accomplished photographers went about it. I suspect that we all recognize the elements subconsciously, but the presentation of the image is what drives them from the subconscious to the conscious, bringing these reactive elements up to where we take notice.

The next image is mine, and I’m going to come right out and say that I’m not promoting this as high art, and I’m not even sure of my feelings about it – I like it, but I don’t think I know why yet. Nonetheless:

stark bare branches against delicate sky colors
And my description, for eventual submission to galleries:

The black fingers of the bare branches seem to be drawing the last of the warmth from the autumn sky, making room for the cold blue winter. Smoke from a nearby fireplace chimney also helps mask the faint feeble rays from the sun, themselves inadequate to provide the necessary warmth. The scene tells us that it will be a while before the return of spring, the re-emergence of the leaves and the songs of the birds; for now, we will have only the shrill whistle of the wind.

So what I’m asking right now is that you pause, re-examine the image, and tell me if you think I’ve captured the essence of it, or alternately if you think I’ve missed anything.

Take all of the time that you need – I’m going to work on cleaning off my desk a little.

[Why am I still hanging onto this?]

All set? Feel comfortable with your response, and what kind of feelings the image evokes? And more importantly, did you agree with Adams up there, and see the aspects that he did?

Because it’s all bullshit. First off, Ansel Adams was born in 1902, so he would have been 3 years old at the time that shot was ostensibly copyrighted – it’s actually one of mine, and nowhere near Adam’s style in any way. Adams also wouldn’t have known about white noise or static at the time, and there’s no such book, and so on. Basically, everything in there is a lie.

But there’s a well-known effect (that probably has a name which I’m not going to bother looking up) where people perceive a greater level of integrity or artistic merit, what-have-you, when they believe something was created by someone prestigious. It’s kind of backwards, really; the prestige that they have has (usually) come from producing art that resonates well with a lot of people, but we’re capable of assigning this property based on the prestige we feel it’s supposed to merit.

In fact, both images above are ones that I took without any particular metaphors or symbolism attached – it was strictly the visual aspect that made me snap the picture, and while I like them both, I don’t consider them high art in any way. That’s why I chose them, really. Because it was the descriptions that were supposed to influence how you felt about them, what you noticed, what you actually thought. The second image was really taken in March, right before the leaf buds started to emerge, and the smoke is not smoke, but simply another level of clouds. No wind.

An awful lot of art is exactly like this: visually unprepossessing, but buttressed with a lofty (and often spiritual) description that’s supposed to evoke something deeper within the viewer – which is actually the reader. Now, it can be argued that this is a part of “art,” and I won’t necessarily disagree – there’s a skill and often an emotional component to creating the descriptions, and of course you’re on a blog which relies heavily on my ability to express my thoughts in an adequate manner (notice how I said nothing about succeeding at this.) However, if the description is needed in order to even imply the supposed properties of the image or piece or whatever, then does it even matter what the piece is, or how much skill is involved in it? I don’t spend a lot of time looking at art galleries or exhibits (and I lied about studying it, above,) but I still come across a few local displays. Much of what I see is butt-ugly, and not particularly skillful from a craftwork standpoint, appended with some overblown description to try and make it transcendental in some manner. And yes, this is personal opinion; all art, and all art appreciation, is, which is why I find art critics and wine tasters and suchlike to be completely superfluous. Critical thinking is a large aspect of my outlook, and so I tend to be more sensitive (or so I believe) to situations where things don’t seem to jibe, where I suspect someone is trying to influence me towards valuing something higher than it deserves.

I won’t dismiss the possibility that such descriptions or the emotions or the backstories or whatever are legitimate, accurate depictions of how the artist feels, and they simply don’t have the skills yet to express this to me in their chosen medium. However, I’m not going to buy the idea that it’s all like that; I think the vast majority of artistic descriptions are simply bullshit. It’s marketing, pure and simple, and it’s done because it works, because all too often people can be more influenced by what they think someone else believes than by what their own senses have provided.

For another viewpoint, most of the advice that I found when starting my own website of photographs was that they should be presented simply, with a neutral grey or black background and no descriptions – as if in direct avoidance of the trends among other forms of art. I personally elected to dismiss this advice, and included some form of description with most of the images; in most cases it’s more of a backstory, to provide something of interest (hopefully) to the viewer, but on occasion I provided my own suggestions. Feel free to call this hypocritical if you like – I never took it seriously myself, and think I expressed that adequately within, especially since the vast majority of suggestions are humorous. Yet, you might also argue that this is simply another form of influence away from what the image is capable of communicating on its own.

You might have been influenced by the descriptions that I provided above, if only by a little bit, or you might have seen right through it all. You might even have found yourself agreeing with either of them, or some aspect, after I admitted they were just made up; I did aim for something that at least seemed plausible. What I’d suggest is, look something over and get a nice impression fixed in your mind first, before seeing what the artist has to say. Maybe you’ll understand the piece better. Maybe you’ll find there’s little relation between the two. But if you find yourself more impressed after reading their description, perhaps you’re responding to the prose and not the piece. And I’ll leave it up to you to determine if that’s what works for you as art.

And yes, the post title is a bit tongue-in-cheek, since my point is that I’m trying to tell you what to think with those descriptions. I’m not impressed by that approach, myself.

The measure of humankind

I’ve had this topic sitting in the background for quite a while now, waiting for me to sit down and put the thoughts into a more coherent narrative. I’m not saying that I succeeded, and it’s likely that further development of it will show up later on. Regardless, I wanted to bring up the idea that we’re, as a society (and maybe even as a species) pretty poorly guided towards what we should consider “important.”

Let’s get the overriding aspect out of the way first: very large portions of our lives, our cultures, our very fabric of society, revolve around the idea that the measure of our success and value is defined solely by money. Well, not entirely money, but closely enough that trying to deny it is simply splitting hairs. It reflects in what we purchase, from trivial items to the major expenditures like cars and houses, and especially how concerned we are about the reaction of others to our purchases. We don’t even like wearing old clothes in public, because we think this indicates how little money we actually have or, horror of horrors, we might be considered destitute, unemployed, or even homeless. And we all know how worthless those people are.

While I definitely want to avoid overstating the case, or painting everyone with the same brush, it’s impossible to know how few people have, for instance, reached a certain level of income and decided that this was “enough,” forgoing advancement and raises and so on, or taking all income above a certain comfort level and donating it to worthy causes. It certainly doesn’t seem like many people, does it? Is there anyone that you know that would deny an increase in income?

Now, let’s be realistic: we are driven not as much by our needs as by our wants, and soapbox lecturer that I am (by even making this post,) I’m no different myself. We are acutely conscious of our discomforts, to say nothing whatsoever of the fear of not having enough money to live on – even when that’s a remarkably low amount. In all honestly, meeting our bare needs isn’t particularly hard, but we’re all driven to have more than some basic protein in our meals, more than a heated shack to live within. Don’t let me give the impression that there’s anything wrong with this, and viewing it from the standpoint of an evolved species, the individual that has better resources is more likely to propagate the species: better food, better protection, better health care, et cetera, all spell a better chance of survival. This is true among so many species on this planet that we can’t conscionably separate ourselves with special rules. This is, in fact, where the drive comes from, in all likelihood anyway. The genes that fostered more emphasis on resource attainment were more likely to pass along.

But we have to be careful judging things from what evolution has produced. Up until the last one or two percent of our history, throughout countless species, resources were a hotly contested commodity; it’s only very recently that our survival as humans became virtually guaranteed, and the idea that a local tribe could actually die out has almost entirely vanished. And this is largely due to the fact that we are not entirely competitive – the social instincts were (and are) actually pretty damn important too, and responsible for the cultures that we have now where we don’t have to farm our own food or practice our own medicine. And we can also thank our brains, and the ability to weigh the emotional desires against the practicalities and consequences to find better actions, overcoming simple instinct with rational thought; without a doubt, the most functional evolved trait that we possess. For a bit of perspective, we have sex drives too, and it goes without saying that they’re fundamentally important to our survival as a species – but indulging them in their ‘raw’ form is socially verboten. Shit, we even have trouble with mere nudity on TV…

Yet there’s still a lot of things that slip under the radar. Sports are 99% utterly pointless, contributing nothing beneficial to us while fostering inane tribalism, yet they remain multi-billion-dollar industries. Alcohol is the triumph of crass self-indulgence over rational consideration, still exuberantly championed as “the way to relax” despite the countless detriments that it carries, while the euphoric effects are sporadic and not terribly impressive; we’ve built a culture of justification around it in rampant denial of its extremely low value. And getting back to the subject of this post, capitalism has become disturbingly prominent in, not just US culture, but a large number of them across the globe.

Sure, money is the number one commodity, the ultimate resource – with it, you can get virtually anything that you need or want, at least from a survival standpoint. But only a moment’s thought reveals that, past a certain point, we’re really not talking about survival, or even indulging crass desires; can we say that a billionaire is somehow more “fit” than a mere millionaire, or even someone with no debt and a modest $75,000 annual income? How many bottles of Dom Perignon does one need to drink, anyway? Yet the practice of conspicuous consumption is rampant in our society among those that can actually indulge in such, as if it’s considered a requirement of being wealthy. Again, not everyone does this, and I don’t want to wantonly dismiss those that exhibit a little rational thought, but it’s still amazingly prevalent, isn’t it?

And as intimated above when talking about old clothes, if someone doesn’t have a certain level of income and/or assets, there is no shortage or people in our culture (and many others) who will consider them the dregs, the leeches, the unwanted, the losers, and so on. Being destitute is very frequently considered on a par with being a criminal, and there is no shortage of people who are quite certain they know how someone became homeless, for instance, without even having spoken to them. As for the idea of actually contributing a few bucks? “Hey, I earned my money – let them go out and work for it!” Yet the same people wouldn’t even dream of interviewing someone like that for any employment position…

Meanwhile, esteem is garnered, by a huge margin, by how much money someone makes, often in total disregard of how it was made. Actual criminal activities are still largely frowned upon, but the sports figure signing a multi-million-dollar contract? They’re somehow heroes to way too much of our population. We have a cultural concept of “the 1%” because it’s routine for large corporations to be raking the vast majority of their overall income into the payrolls of a select few chief executives, usually while most of their workers are not even making a living wage – and too often we find someone blaming the workers for this state of affairs, as if this is what we should all aspire to. Think it doesn’t happen often? Watch the typical reaction whenever the idea of raising minimum wage comes up, since this is usually considered the domain of the Walmart and McDonalds employee – why should they be able to pay for their own apartment? Meanwhile, those corporations are among the largest in the US, with a net worth that makes it clear they could easily afford to increase the payscales, without any commensurate raise in prices too – it would simply mean a lot fewer people pulling down salaries measured in the millions. How does someone actually earn a salary like that, I wonder? You’d think it would have to be some fucking amazing ideas that they come up with, but I can’t really find the evidence of it in those establishments. Or indeed, in any…

And it carries all the way through our cultures. People are often embarrassed to be driving a 10-year-old car, even when it runs fine; many have to trade in their cars every three years, perpetuating payments because they need to display something new in their driveways. And what can we say about cell phones? Granted, a lot of them are replaced because they’re fragile as hell and have a cracked screen from everyday possession, but just as many, perhaps more, are replaced because there’s something newer out there. A few years back, the battery on The Girlfriend’s phone wasn’t holding a charge and I went into the local provider’s store to get a new one. They literally gave me this blank, lost look: no one replaced batteries. I had to order it online.

I could go on, but you know how many examples are out there. And the most disturbing thing about it all is, this does absolutely nothing for us, as a culture, as a species, as anything. It is, bluntly, a raw urge to remain competitive enough to obtain a viable mate, not just carried over into the rest of our lives where it has no purpose at all, but adopted into our cultures and glorified to the point of huge detriment, with barely the slightest recognition.

It’s not hard to understand, for instance, seeking gratification of desires with some kind of substitute, a kind of mental masturbation; this is pretty much what sports do for our actively competitive instincts, the hunter or fighter within us. And naturally there’s the sex drive and, you know, non-mental masturbation. But it would probably be much better for us if the method of satisfying these desires had little to no negative impact, and especially didn’t dictate large aspects of our cultures over such a trivial instinct. It would also be better if it actually worked, rather than fostering an increasing anxiety over our personal standing and apparent worth. We like to believe that we’re rational, that we frequently override the survival impulses (that the ‘lesser animals’ are slaves to) with considered actions and the knowledge of consequences, but it seems we just as often find ways to justify following these impulses and believe that we’re rational, when all we’re doing is rationalizing.

There are so many ways in which our pursuits, our standards, our measures of esteem, could be beneficial to us all, contributing towards a better social structure if not actually the improvement of our standing as a species. We even have instincts toward those, and they’re responsible, as noted above, for a lot of what our culture is now; the very fact that we’re a social species allows us to even define ‘culture’ in the first place. We are not, and cannot actually be, individuals with complete independence from one another. Imagine, if you will, a landscape of farms and livestock pens strictly for personal use, each of us with our own smithies and looms and leech parlors.

And yet somehow we feel, all too often, that we are individuals when it comes to income and status and all that, in direct competition with everyone else around us. How unbelievably self-centered this idea is! And what can this possibly accomplish?

What if we, instead, concentrated on things that can actually improve our lives? What if, in lieu of pursuing a nonsense abstract of “status,” we aimed for things like contentment, fulfillment, and satisfaction just as a bare start, but perhaps even advancement and strengthening our standing just as human beings? You can easily see the two different approaches just in this question alone, so let’s examine these separately.

The personal aspect: I don’t mean for this to sound selfish, and its a form of selfishness that I’m decrying above. But all too often, when we’re in pursuit of this concept of status, we can spend our lives chasing an elusive and poorly-defined goal when we have achievable, tangible goals available. Sometimes, it’s this simple: do what you enjoy. Sure, it can be exceptionally hard to make a living with this, but the first thing to remember is, “making a living” all depends on what you choose as ‘standards,’ or a minimum or whatever. Maybe painting or writing isn’t going to net us a $500,000 home in an upscale neighborhood, and we believe that “it isn’t going to pay the bills.” And just expressing it that way makes the flaw seem obvious, doesn’t it? We just don’t actually express it that way to ourselves very often, if at all. Sometimes we simply need to ask ourselves, do I want this big house/new car, or do I want to create/express/whatever? Do I agree with working for this large corporation to support a lifestyle that’s expected of me, or would I rather be cooking new dishes, or teaching kids, or exploring new areas? There’s certainly a balance point – few of us can simply quit working and pursue what we most feel like doing, but at the same time, how many of us are going to look back on our lives and think that we accomplished something? If most of our time is spent doing something we don’t like or agree with in order to occasionally (or ‘sometime in the future’) engage in what we appreciate the most, is this really making sense? Why not now? And most especially, is caring what others might think really doing anything? Are we adopting the standards of others simply because that’s what everyone else does? If our culture is defined by what the majority of people do, but it’s gotten to be insipid or pointless or poorly directed, who’s going to change this by continuing it?

Which brings us to the less personal, more ‘social’ and humanistic aspect, sometimes considered to be almost the opposite; you know, the selfish desires weighed against the altruistic and ‘good of mankind’ goals. And it’s true: very often, if we feel that we would like to improve any aspect of society, it means forgetting about what we personally want and concentrating on others, often to the point of sacrifice. The biggest example is simply looking at the meals we eat compared against what others have available to them – that’s enough to stir instantaneous feeling of guilt. Yet that’s not my point, exactly. First off, there will always be unbalance, and there will always be a situation that we can compare ourselves against that can make us look selfish and entitled or whatever. And this can go both ways; we can always find someone who should feel much guiltier than we do, more excessive, more indulgent, and so on. The idea isn’t comparison; the idea is, what can we do that helps out, even a little? Hey, I don’t need this new phone, even if it’s pretty damn cool – maybe I’ll donate half the cost to a worthy cause. I have a habit of treating myself to dinner out every Friday – maybe I’ll skip one or two a month and put that towards disadvantaged kids. Weighing the positive against the negative in such situations is easy, and usually makes such decisions pretty straightforward – we just tend to avoid thinking like that.

Yet, we usually feel pretty good about making these efforts, because we’re a social species, and a certain level of guilt over self-indulgence is built into us, so to speak. And, of course, the more people who openly engage in such, the more the trend goes in society. Again, we’re not competing against members of our own species, and this is a phenomenally pointless way of thinking. We’re not even competing against other species – it’s not competition at all, despite the common belief that evolution and survival means something wins and something loses. True enough, Mother Nature is unyielding in this aspect – species, including us, can go extinct by not being adapted to the conditions, and if we develop a dependence on something that we’re using faster than it can be produced, we’re in deep shit. Which doesn’t say a lot for the brains that we think are so marvelous, especially when we refuse to take simple steps because they’re inconvenient. But more to the point, we can easily see how and where we can improve our cultures, our societies, our standing as a species on the whole – we just have to do them. Without making excuses, and without expecting someone else to do them, and without creating this false idea that we should be ‘better’ than someone else. What, exactly, should our criteria of ‘better’ be anyway?

There are a lot of measurable benefits to such a change in outlook and pursuits. A ridiculously large amount of people are in debt, and the anxiety that often accompanies this, simply from the warped idea of what they need to be doing – the house or car they need to be seen in, the possessions that will somehow drastically improve their lives. Yet there’s no such need at all. Trying to impress people with such shallow criteria of worth as the newness of our car is incredibly pointless, so just not worrying about what other people think is a simple yet highly effective method of releasing so much anxiety. But we can also seek esteem through more progressive and beneficial methods: helping others, concentrating on our kids’ values, trying to make change, however small, in some unfortunate aspect of our lives, or country, or world. Sometimes all that’s needed is a little spare time, and it does more for you than you might think. But even the ‘selfish’ aspect of doing something that we’ve always wanted to do, becoming accomplished at some skill or pursuit, is a lot better for our mental well-being than struggling to maintain the ‘capitalist dream.’

Listen, I’m not trying to be all preachy here, or instill guilt or change the world or any of that shit. I’m just trying to introduce a bit of perspective, in a society that has created its own peculiar outlook, one that really doesn’t contribute much (if anything) to us at all. Think about it, at least.

Sunday slide 49

great blue heron Ardea herodias in top of tree overlooking misty valley
So to begin with, this is another where I can’t quite remember where it was taken, but since there are no big hills in the area and I hadn’t been to the mountains when this was shot back in 1998, I have reasonable certainty that it was taken overlooking a lake. I don’t think I’d yet discovered Falls Lake, so I’m going with Jordan. I’m sorry I can’t be more specific; I know how important this it to you.

But I’ll take this opportunity to mention something here, especially for all those who are thinking that a long telephoto lens is going to do wonders for their photography. In some circumstances, you will actually get better results without it. You see, had I used a much longer focal length (which I didn’t even have at the time) to bring this great blue heron (Ardea herodias) much closer and larger in the frame, a lot would have been left out. For starters, most of the color, which occurs down low. At a certain point the background becomes nothing but white and the setting a kind of spindly tree. While the branches do an excellent job of framing the heron, it’s still not a strong composition by itself, but backed off like this is and showing a broad expanse, we get more of an isolated feel; the heron is not quite obvious, though easy to find, but definitely all alone high in the air. The autumn colors now visible tell us the time of year, and the vaguely visible hills/trees in the distance tell of a foggy morning. Now, we have a cool, quiet, almost forlorn feel to the whole scene, which is a scene, and not just a pic of a heron.

Sure, it’s always nice to see more details of the bird, and we tend to believe this speaks of our skills when get wildlife “up close” – which is occasionally true, but speaking as someone who’s been within a few meters of wild herons many times, not exactly accurate. Sometimes the fartsy print comes from creating a mood or a scene that someone wants to put on their walls, and that very often takes more elements than just a bird, or indeed, and other singular subject.

So while there are certainly uses for long telephoto lenses and bringing a subject much closer, we shouldn’t neglect the possibilities that any focal length may provide, or the factors that might express more to the viewer.

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