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Just Like Everywhere…and Nowhere

Tuesday, May 10th, 2011

Despite my love for the high desert, I have to confess that it feels pretty good to be back in the mountains for the summer.  This weekend, we headed to the San Bernardino mountains for a quick, local, Mother’s Day camping trip.  On the way home, fog from a very heavy marine layer was working its way inland, and up into the foothills of the mountains.  I loved the way it was drifting through the valleys, and watching it move slowly gave a lovely sense of peace.

Click on the image to view it large on black (highly recommended)

Fog drifts in the valleys of the San Bernardino Mountains above Redlands

In the Clouds, May 2011

One of the things that gives this image its uniqueness is the skeletons of dead pine trees scattered throughout the hillside; however, its also those trees that make this a not-so-uncommon scene in the West.  The trees were killed by mountain pine beetles, which have not only devastated forests in southern California, but all over the West.  They burrow into the trees, and block their ability to assimilate nutrients.  Its interesting to me how the appeal of an image can be imparted from the biology that killed the trees.

This scene is also is a reminder of the nature of landscape photography in general.  Although you might see other scenes similar to this, no one will ever be able to make this same image again.  As I made this image, I thought to myself about coming back on a day with similar weather, when I have more time to try making images.  I probably will return at some point, but this was really serendipitous weather.  Running into (or in my case, haphazardly stumbling upon) an ephemeral scene like this, and being able to make an image of it, is really the essence of the craft.

I hope you had a fantastic Mother’s Day!

 

An Honest Silence

Friday, March 4th, 2011

In my blog post, “Topophilia,” an essay about the value of the desert southwest, particularly southern Utah, I wrote that I, “feel connected with the land in a way that words cannot describe.”

Indeed I do.  Some people may contend that the wild canyons and plateaus are dangerous; yes, Mother Nature can be treacherous–violently so.  However, despite that, I find sanctuary in the sandstone, a place of refuge and rejuvenation, of clarity and healing.  How can I find words to describe this place?  I may not ever be able to do it justice.

Canyon and cedar snag in the grand staircase escalante national monument, utah

Cedar Snag, Grand Staircase Escalante National Monument, August 2009

Last week, I met Ann Marie Whittaker through her blog, “Age Old Tree,”  and discovered her prose about why she loves her Red Rock Wilderness.  In a brief email exchange, I could sense a profound sense of place and love in her voice for this beautiful slickrock desert so many people fall in love with.  We need more people like Ann Marie in this world; I hope you go to her blog and read the post over and over (make sure to check out part two as well).  You’ll be inspired; I am, and I learned that its actually okay to embrace an honest silence about a place.

I’m still not sure what I want to say about southern Utah, but I’m very happy its there, and that its loved by so many.

beautiful and colorful sandstone formation, with calcite, southern utah

Sandstone Kaleidoscope, January 2011

i Love Mountains

Monday, February 14th, 2011

In his 2005 essay My Conversation with Gurney Norman, Wendell Berry wrote:

On the mountain above Hardburley we stood and looked at the first working strip mine I ever saw.  It had never occurred to me that people could destroy land with an indifference that perfectly matched the capability of their technology.  The big machines were following the seam of coal around the mountain, leaving a high vertical wall like an open sore on one side and on the other the “overburden” of earth and rock thrown regardlessly down upon the forest and streams below.

This past weekend, and into today–Valentine’s Day–a small group of Kentuckians, including Wendell Berry, are sleeping at the Governor’s office of that state to protest the practice of mountaintop coal mining (which is different in practice, but not destruction, from the strip mining Berry describes above; link here).  Their protest leads up to “i Love Mountains” Day, which is meant to bring awareness to this practice.

Earlier yesterday evening I was trying to come up with a post to help commemorate Valentine’s Day.  Despite my better efforts, inspiration did not come (not for lack of material, mind you).  As I read about i Love Mountains Day, inspiration struck: I have a Valentine’s Day post!  So, what does mountaintop coal mining in the Appalachian Mountains have to do with me, and what could it possibly have to do with Valentine’s Day?

You see, even here in southern California, some of my electricity is supplied by coal that was mined in this fashion.  I bet some of yours is too (click here to find out).  When I was in Wyoming in December, I was able to see first-hand some areas of strip mining taking place near the town of Gillette; Berry’s description of the process is fitting.  All of this serves as a perfect reminder of how we are all interconnected, sometimes in the most nonintuitive of ways.  Often, this interconnectedness is pushed to the back of our minds, whether by accident, or for convenience’s sake.

I’m somewhat hesitant to post this as a one-sided, know-it-all, environmental rant for a couple of reasons.  First, I can’t claim to be an expert on any type of coal mining, and although it hurts my heart to think about the earth being destroyed in such a way, I’m also a hypocrite.  I happily use the electricity generated from that coal (I’m using it to write this blog post right now).  Should I (we?) look for alternative sources of energy for our homes or communities?  Absolutely.  Again, that’s one of those things that often gets neatly swept under the rug when we’re too busy to deal with it.

Second, many of the people mining in Kentucky and elsewhere probably have a connection to the land rooted in many generations who have done just what they’re doing now.  If, in fact, this practice is stopped, someone (many someones probably) is going to face the challenge of feeding his family.  Is that a reason to continue with the status quo, with no opportunity or effort to find an alternative?  Of course not.  But it illustrates how few, if any, environmental issues are one-sided; they’re often multifaceted with no clear-cut solution.

Although I don’t have a solution, or even a suggestion for one, two points are clear to me.  The first is that every action we take has far-reaching effects, often beyond our awareness.  The second is that if we’re going to sustain of a quality of life for our future generations we absolutely must be cognizant of the ramifications of our actions.

Happy Valentine’s Day to you and yours.  Despite my doom and gloom today, there’s much to be happy about!  Make sure you tell your favorite mountain you love it today.

Tuolumne Meadows, with many of the major peaks in Yosemite National Park

Tuolumne Meadows, August 2009

(Re)alignment

Friday, January 14th, 2011

Ask almost any photographer and they’ll tell you that one of the most difficult aspects of their art is writing an artists’ bio.  Kah Kit Yoong, in a recent blog post, lamented that writing his own bio felt like,

tiptoeing the tightrope between modesty and shameless self-aggrandizing.

Yup.  That about sums it up.  Over the last few days, I’ve been working on a rewrite of my own bio and have felt like I’ve been walking a tenuous line the entire time.  My biggest goal was to make myself sound real, that the images I make and the places I visit are important to me.  I owe many thanks to my wife and friends (including David Leland Hyde) for reading drafts and offering suggestions for improvement; I hope you read the finished product by clicking on the ‘About’ tab at the top of this page, or by visiting the ‘About‘ page on my main website.

Why did I have a sudden desire to write my own bio?  There are a couple of reasons.  I wrote my original bio very early in my photographic career, and while I didn’t write what I thought people would want to read, I also didn’t have a clear vision for my work.  Now, several years have passed, and I’ve evolved.  My photographic focus is becoming somewhat narrower–I want to make images of scenes that give me a sense of belonging to the environment.  The new bio reflects that desire.

My second reason to rewrite now sprouted from my most recent trip to the Southwest.  Being back in a small town, close to slickrock and the fantastic sunrises and sunsets that help characterize the area really crystallized the need to realign my life–to simplify and focus.  I doubt any big changes will happen in my life soon, but I’m happy to have a “bigger picture” goal in mind.

Detail of sandstone in the north coyote buttes area of northern arizona

Luminous, January 2011

What obstacles have you run into while writing your bio, or while trying to describe your vision?  How have you overcome those obstacles, and where have you found inspiration?

2010 Favorite Images

Monday, December 27th, 2010

Many thanks to everyone who helped me narrow down a top 5 favorite images of 2010 by voting on my blog and on Facebook!  It was a lot of fun for me to take some of my personal favorites and to hear your feedback.  Interestingly, the top two images are from the Sierra Nevada.  I‘ve blogged before about how I’m finding more and more of a sense of place there, and I’m happy to have created two excellent images there this year.

I hope you enjoy these five images; I’ve added a couple more of my personal favorites at the end.  Thanks again for a great 2010; I’m looking forward to seeing you in 2011…

The Cathedral Range, Yosemite National Park, Californi

#1 The Cathedral Range, Yosemite National Park, July

Minaret Lake, Ansel Adams Wilderness, California

#2 Minaret Lake, Ansel Adams Wilderness, July

Slot canyon, southern utah

#3 Red Cave, Utah, June

Ibex Dunes, Death Valley National Park, California

#4 Ibex Dunes, Death Valley National Park, February

Fiery Sunset, Joshua Tree National Park, California

#5 Joshua Tree National Park, August

And a couple of my personal favorites from this year…

Aspen trees, Sierra Nevada California

#6 Aspen Trees, Sierra Nevada, October

Coral Pink Sand Dunes, Utah

#7 Coral Pink Sand Dunes, Utah, January

Finding Solace

Tuesday, December 21st, 2010

“We Americans are great on fillers, as if what we have, what we are, is not enough. We have a cultural tendency toward denial, but, being affluent we strangle ourselves with what we can buy. We only have to look at the houses we built to see how we build against space, the way we drink against pain and loneliness. We fill up space as if it were a pie shell, with things whose opacity further obstructs our ability to see what is already there…”

Gretel Ehrlich, The Solace of Open Spaces

It wasn’t until I left Wyoming to live in southern California that I read these words by Gretel Ehrlich.  Although there are some beautiful open spaces left in southern California, and some communities have progressive open space initiatives, you’re still surrounded by ~5 million people.  Still, they provide an escape, if only for a few hours, from everyday life in southern California.  However, having returned to central Wyoming for a visit earlier this week, I now realize just how much Ehrlich’s words resonate with me.

Standing on the prairie north of Cheyenne with the cold December wind blowing in my face, I knew I could look for miles across the bunchgrass, knowing I was one of very few people for almost 100 miles.  I took a deep breath and smiled.  Yes, perhaps we do build against space (are we afraid of what we might find if we explore that space?), but sometimes that space brings a very special kind of solace.

Happy Holidays to you and yours.  Thank you for reading and participating on my blog this year; it really does mean a lot to me, and I appreciate it more than you know.  I’ve got a few blog posts planned for the rest of this year, but am looking forward to a productive and creative 2011!

A sunset on the eastern Wyoming plains north of Cheyenne

Solace, December 2010

A critic would criticize this image for having nothing interesting in the foreground.  But, that’s sort of the point.  🙂

My favorite images of 2010; help needed!

Wednesday, December 15th, 2010

As 2010 rapidly draws to a close, I am reflecting on the year and am trying to pick out my favorite images of 2010.  To your right, you can see a small slideshow of the 13 images I’ve been able to single out as my favorites of the year.  But, I need your help.  If you go to my Alpenglow Images’ Facebook Fan Page, you can vote for your top 5 images.

Everyone who votes by 12/31/10 will be entered for a chance to win a free 12 × 18 print.

Don’t have Facebook?  You can vote in the comment section of this thread!

Giving Thanks

Sunday, November 28th, 2010

This past week, we celebrated Thanksgiving, a holiday where we surround ourselves with friends & family, eat good food, watch football, and take a moment to reflect on the things that we are thankful for.  My parents drove out to southern California from their home in New Mexico, and we indulged in just about everything I listed above.  My dad and I snuck a few hours in for some photography, but for the most part, their visit ended too early as we ran around trying to fit too many activities into 4 days.

Today, after they left, I was able to look back on the busy week, and think about what I’m thankful for.  I’m thankful for parents who are willing and able to travel whenever they want.  My wife is incredibly supportive of my addiction (her word, not mine).  I have a group of people who I can call true friends.  In addition to people in my immediate presence, I have made some great friends online within the photographic community as well as a group of steady readers who admire (and hopefully are inspired by) my work–both of these are reasons to be incredibly grateful.  When you’re surrounded by people as great as I have in my life, you realize that material possessions–although they can be fun–don’t matter all that much.

With that, I wish you a belated Happy Thanksgiving!  What are you thankful for?  Please share in the comments section…

Sunset colors at Crystal Cove State Park, near Corona del Mar, California

Sunset Reflections, November 2010

Sunset at Crystal Cove State Park, near Corona del Mar, California

November Sunset, 2010

Artemisia

Saturday, November 20th, 2010

They say that our sense of smell is mostly closely associated with our memory.  How many times have you walked by a diner and thought back to a dinner you had many years ago?  Perhaps you’ve been in a busy museum or at a concert and a whiff of someone’s perfume or cologne brings you back to an old (or current) lover.   Indeed, we have a constant rush emotions and memories when certain scents pervade our senses.

Of all the smells associated with the outdoors, none is more ubiquitous to me than that of Sagebrush (Artemisia tridentata).  I remember a 12-year-old me walking with my dad on deer and elk hunts on the plateaus of northwestern New Mexico, my jeans completely infused with dust and that heavy, musky odor of Sagebrush.  The opposite is also true, sitting here in my office, I can close my eyes, and breathing deeply, I can almost smell that familiar odor again.

The same is true all over the West.  Everywhere you go, you can find Sagebrush, and it has a long history here.  Its tough fibers were used to make sandals for Native Americans, and tea made from its leaves was used to treat infections.  Despite its usefulness, the oils are toxic to humans, creating toxic compounds in our liver.  While I can’t speak much to its toxicity, I do know that although I have such strong memory associated with the plant, I also have strong allergies to it as well.

The scent of Sagebrush always brings me solace; when I walk amongst its knotted, twisted branches, I breathe deeply, close my eyes, sneeze, and say to myself, “I’m home.”

Sagebrush (Artemisia tridentata) branch and autumn oak leaves

Sagebrush and oak leaves, October 2010

What scents bring you comfort?  Do they help to define your sense of place in the world?  I’d love to hear about it in the comments.

2011 Calendar now available!

Thursday, November 4th, 2010

I’m very happy to announce that my first calendar is now available.  The center-folding, wall-hanging 17″ × 22″ (8.5″ × 11″ folded)  calendar features 12 of my images on heavy-duty stock paper.

Although we’ve had continued record heat in southern California, the Christmas season is already underway, and these calendars will make a great gift, either for yourself, or for someone else who loves wild places.

What’s the calendar look like?  I’m glad you asked.  Here are a few images:

2011 Alpenglow Images calendar cover

Cover

Alpenglow Images 2011 Calendar May preview

May

2011 Alpenglow Images Calendar November Preview

November

The calendar is available for $27 (includes shipping); if you are interested in purchasing one, send me an email at:

alpenglowimages (at) gmail.com

or visit my purchasing page for information on purchasing.

In addition to my calendar, I’m very happy to offer a 25% discount on all of my photographic prints through December 25!  I’m very appreciative of all of the visitors to my site, and would be honored to have my art hanging on your wall.