
Found this article on twitter about how to become a better photographer and wanted to share it with you.
My online journal where I share my interests in photography, nature, coffee life, journaling, fountain pens, bicycling, spirituality and asking deep questions.
Found this article on twitter about how to become a better photographer and wanted to share it with you.
I came across this mother and her son sitting at one of the pianos in Old Town Fort Collins. He was so focused on ticking the ivory and both were singing away. She is holding Winnie the Pooh and has a second baby strapped to her chest. I must admit it was a very entertaining concert. Loved it! I was not familiar with any of their songs but probably will find them on their soon to be released CD.
Had a chance to roam the streets of downtown Durango, Colorado last week looking for a place to eat. Ended up with a piece of pizza the size of a large pizza. I encountered these musicians playing some foot stomping bluegrass music. No way I could not stop watch and enjoy. A lot has been happening in my camp the past week and I’ll share that in an upcoming post. Hope everyone has a good weekend.
I’m not musically inclined except in my imagination or in the shower and there is no need to prove it, just take my word for it. However, some people are musically inclined, they practice the craft and bring enjoyment to people. This image was taken at some friends home back in 2005. I liked how the room was set up and the light so I took several images. They have sat dormant until today when they caught my attention. Surprisingly I took 36 images but when post processing them I did very little. I converted one to black and white then left them alone. Again, this is another example of how we can be attracted to a scene, take the images and then later on be inspired to work on them. Anyway, here’s the studio.
I’m off to the mountains to help a friend shoot a wedding today, near Estes Park. It will be a long day. Enjoy your Saturday.
I sure don’t sing very well. Practice would probably help but I doubt I could make a living at it. I would most likely loose a few friends if I sang too often. I also do not listen to much music since the radio in my car and my home stereo went “kaput.” I have an iphone but have not music on it. The music I enjoy at this place and time in life is sounds of nature: wind as it blows through trees, birds sining their morning song, water flowing in a stream, leaves crunching under foot, rain falling and even the quiet of snowfall.
But there is another enjoyable music in my life. I find at times while riding in my car or on a walk, that a song will rise up inside me and my spirit will quietly sing. There are those songs from the past, stored in my memory, that rise up and every once in a while a newly created song will flow forth. So when my spirit wants to sing, I do. It’s music from within, not from my ipod.
I was either in grade school or junior high when I took guitar lessons, which was a long time ago. If I remember correctly it didn’t last too long. The cost was beginning to be prohibitive, I was starting to lust for an expensive electric guitar and my parents had had enough of my slow developing talent. So, I never made it as a rock star and that probably was good thing.
I will admit to enjoying it while it lasted and probably wasn’t too bad. I remember the pain of acquiring calluses on my fingers and wondering if my fingers would ever stretch to play some of those chords. Later on in high school I jammed with my best friend, Lyle, who was quite good at the guitar. Then sometime during my marriage, my wife wanted to take guitar lessons so a guitar was purchased. I kept it after the divorce and would strum a few chords now and then. But, I never made it as a rock star and that probably was good thing.
Our newest roommate is learning to play the guitar. She reminds me of those early attempts, talking to myself when I screwed up while those around were listening and learning what patience really means. One day I picked up her guitar and strummed a few chords. Surprisingly I remembered some of those chords and I smiled. However, my fingers quickly became tender and I remembered those feelings also. Ya know, I never made it as a rock star and that probably was good thing.