J R learns the D200 - Day 32
I know Pride's role in the parade, and I sure didn't think so wandering around shooting these shots, but after watching them long enough to get them here, I am growing pride in my work with this new longer lens. I'm getting the hang of it. Like any good tool, it's becoming an extension of my mind. One I'm still learning, but one I'm figuring out.
I think these images show progress. Not every one was exposed perfectly but they're a lot better than one in five or worse like last time.
Oh, I'll still be exploring it awhile. Months, if not years — I was still figuring out things on my Sony (F707) five years after I'd bought it. I still can't hold the new lens still racked out to full "super" telephoto, but I'm seeing things that fit into super telephoto viewing. Like the feel of a new brush or blade, it feels right in my hands. I'm beginning to think like it needs thinking with.
First step this morning was getting the lens involved with some sunshine streaming in the front window. Then out on the porch to shoot the white lions guarding the neighborhood. Then, of course, off to the lake, where we found way too many other people. Thousands of them gathered for the first big picnic day of summer, Easter.
That many diverse people gathered in one place made it impossible to find a bench to rest our sweaty selves into along the shore. But it did liven up the photographic opportunities. People are more interesting than birds.
We saw three of these electric cars, two Wranglers and this John Deer. I think that's what it is. I used to know every make and model on sight. But I don't recognize this one.
I always wonder if a lens will resolve webbery so slender — as thin as a spider web, and then I see that it has.
If I hadn't spend what seems like weeks exploring the Boat House at White Rock, this would seem a much more interesting exposure. Right on the first and only time. I am developing an antipathy toward exposure compensation. This camera seems so much better at it than I am. Love the complexity of lines in the reflections of the stone post and folding chair at the bottom left. Looks like Photoshop gone wild, but it's natural.
I was fascinated by tarps today. Little sails erected by folks hiding (look carefully at the guy's lower extremities and jeans sticking out of the lower right portion of this tarp) or not hiding from today's record heat. Hottest Easter ever.
Ignoring for a few free moments the obnoxion of the porta potties in the lower background, dig the excitement as the kid slips the surly bonds of earth and flings his craft... etc.
We later saw a half dozen kites aloft. But most of them were just trying to slip their own surly bonds.
Now I wish I'd zapped the colors in this image. I like the kid's bare back and striped kite, shadow behind. But the older teen tilting back on the bench talking on his cell is much more fascinating, although I didn't see him till I was processing this picture.
I put a lot of time and effort into making this image of that original orange as accurate as I could. It was orange.
These turkeys filled the whole bay with the smoke from one tiny fire. They seemed not to even notice that there might be people around them who wanted to breathe fresh air.
Anna gave me Easter flowers, and I put them on my dashboard in bright sunlight, to extend the visual metaphor of the two, I assume lovers, who each had similarly fuzzy furry flowers on their dashboards yester or a couple days ago in this journal. I didn't look at them very carefully, completely burned out the speedometer hump to their left, cropped that brightness out, and got this.
I am fascinated with land juts and points. And the things beyond them which can be juxtaposed with them. Here it's the bath house, surely the most ornate building left on the waterfront at White Rock Lake. That it was a swimming area bath house long before it became a City arts center make it more interesting. But as an architectural element it is interesting on its own. I'll try not to go on about its being closed because all the lilly whites didn't want to swim in the same fetid water as Black Americans, so used the Polio scare to close down swimming at the Rock.
It's still a place with ramps and porches bordering on verandas and windows and doors and ridges. It glows pink/orange on the far side of the lake at sunset. It unquestionably has the nicest, cleanest bathrooms available to the public on the lake. There's even art in those non bath bathrooms now by my friend Ann Huey that's better than a lot of the stuff they show in their galleries.
I like juxtaposing the Bath House with various points around White Rock, and even though this particular photograph is not focused on anything but the water to the right and below the fisherman in blue standing nearly right on the point itself, I will continue shooting these points.
To almost say nothing of the family gathered on what looks from here like a giant, slithering slug, but is probably not, is in fact, probably a big inflatable raft.
I , however, no longer fascinated with this form of daily journaling about learning my new camera. I'm burned out on this form. I'm reading more carefully about herons, egrets, pelicans, cormorants, coots, grackles and my other furry feathered friends.
(There's plenty more to learn. I'm just gonna do it more quietly, more internally.)
I want the pages resulting from my next foray to manifest not just my stumbles and successes and stumbling successes, but some things interesting and onto some target, on a path some where. I want those pages to add up to more understanding of the things I like most to photograph — the fauna and flora of White Rock Lake, for just one instance.
I still do "J R's New White Rock Lake Journal," and I will for a many years. But I want my better photographs to do more good than show recent progress. I want them to amount to something, individually and in aggregates. I want people to want to see them and learn what I have to say.
That whatever form will be online and it will be and look very different from what this is and looks like. More than that I do not know. Yet.
I'm at an end point in one line and nearing the begriming of another. I'm jumping off, but I have only the ideas sketched in the few paragraphs above of where I'll land. I will probably return to writing about art. This was my longest vacation from that since I started DallasArtsRevue.com in 1999. It felt like drudgery when I left it a couple months ago, now I miss it.
But there'll be more. I just don't yet know quite what.
The average focal length for images on this page is 262.3529412, and the average aperture is 10.24705882
I've lost track of how many images I've pulled from my new camera. I might have to settle for the number it's using to count, which I know is several hundred to a thousand off, but for those of us who count, I'm setting it at 8,000. I know there's more than that, but that's a nice, round number to end this quest with.