(click thumbnail for full resolution)
My friend, Iron, asks me if I ever sleep. Its morning and the sun is already high. The fire is smoldering to life, as if a film playing in reverse, and I am already editing this photo. I do sleep, too much in my opinion, but when I am close to nature I feel that sometimes Nature itself conspires to keep me awake.
Two hours ago I was trying to ignore the brightening sky. I spent the entire night awake hoping for another the ridge
glimpse of aurora (see Wild Horses below). The KP was hitting 8, or it was before we ventured off into wilderness, but nature was showing me how condensation in the upper atmosphere works. If there were northern lights, we couldn’t see them. Some time around 3AM I give up and climb into the open back of my jeep. At around 4:30AM the most persistent and curious fly the size of a grape falls in love that my ears, or can’t figure out how to get out of the jeep, and torments me until I give in and get up.
This was a challenging morning for landscape photography. A general haze covered the land with no deffiniton. The sky was flat with no visual interest aside from being beautiful in the experiential sense of the word. I was fortunate have a 105mm lens and cropped sensor camera, giving me the equivalent reach of 168mm. I love long lens landscape photography. Being able to reach out and grab light dancing in the distance is a dream of mine. If I could, I would go everywhere with a 600mm lens. Today, 168mm was long enough, thankfully. As I searched the lines for composition and light my eyes fell on a distant glimpse of water and shifting colors.
The colors speak for themselves but I should mention that I love purple in photographs. The layers upon layers tug on my heart in no small way either. They add measure to infinity. I’ve been after a photo like this for a long time precisely because of how it makes me feel. Colors, lines, and pastels make me calm and happy, in a fashion. I premeditate a lot of my pieces. I have a shot list that spins in the back of my mind like a noisy rolodex full of tattered cards. When I head out to a location I don’t know what I’m going to find and often don’t get what I want, even after all the planning, scouting, and waiting. This is the bitter sweet fruit of working along side nature. As I searched the lines in the mountains I was able to pull that image card from my memory and cross Olympic Lines off my list.
About the prints: I print on premium lumachrome paper that is unparalleled in depth and luminosity. All pieces come face mounted to acrylic and ready to hang using french cleats. I also offer Tabacchino and other handmade framing options. All my pieces are editions of 50. For inquiries regarding prints contact me at firstname.lastname@example.org.