Up North and Black Again (again. This time with a 24mm.)

Every few months I travel up to Northern California for a Kosher cheese run at Rumiano's in Crescent City. It's around 6 hours North of San Fransisco. I usually fly (as I did this time) which doesn't allow me to bring my tripod (unless I shell out $50 bucks, which I'm not willing to do). Crazy airlines. What's even crazier is their carry-on policy. Anything checked costs $25 each way. If your carry-on is too big, they allow you to take it through security and on the tarmac they check it underneath for free. My luggage went underneath but they didn't charge because I "carried it on" to the tarmac. The only loss is the no liquid rule. (They stole my PB + J!!)

The airplane flys into Arcada Airport near Eureka, I rent a car and drive an hour and a half north through the redwoods to Crescent City. On the way theres this tiny town called Trinidad which has the most awesome supermarket. They have a larger selection of organic and healthy food than most health food stores in SoCal (Whole Foods included!). Being as the only food I had was a loaf of homemade sourdough bread (thank you Estee) and some cheese, I filled up on greens, tomatoes, cucumbers, onions, mushrooms, olives, mustard, sesame oil, some (real) soy sauce, a six pack of this awesome beer (forgot the name), and a metal bowl (for the salad). I'm into my food. Added some feta cheese when I got to my motel and voila - a ridiculously amazing salad.

After the supermarket raid, I made my way down to the beach there to dunk my newly purchased bowl in the world's biggest mikvah. Commited dunkage, took a bunch of fotos (way too many wide open at f/1.4. Because I could.), picked up a hitchhiker (he was a student from Albany, and he hitchhiked from Atlanta. He was aiming for Bend, Oregon.) and made my way to my motel to prepare my feast.

I don't take nearly enough non-people pictures. It's nice to be able to take time (to some extent) to compose (a tripod would have really helped). I need to train myself to slow down.

The weather was pretty bleak so the processing kind of reflects my mood then.

For the record, the sign by the elevator reads: "WARNING Please be advised the parking elevator will not operate during a power blackout. Consequently, because we are unsure when a blackout may occur, we suggest that you use the stairs to avoid entrapment."

Right.

The two photos before were shot wide open at 1.4. How cool is that (if you care about such things)?

Storytelling & Telling Stories

A picture is worth a thousand words.

What about two pictures?

When I started out with photography I was so excited about what a little knowledge along with a capable camera (and photoshop!) could do that I got lost in each picture. Each photo was tweaked, optimized, leveled, curved, balanced, straightened and cropped to its ultimate.

I wasn't in touch with what a picture is: a moment in time. And if the moment is taken on its own without context, it becomes lonely, shy, introverted and pimply. In short it shuts down. Becomes silent. And what good does a silent picture do?

Each picture tells its own story. And because of my workflow (editing each picture separately, with completely different outcomes) the pictures look great one by one, but dont fit together at all.

Two pictures aren't worth two thousand words. They are worth one million. Pictures that work together weave stories, express emotions and capture feelings.

Recently I've been working on telling stories.

What's yours?

We (the extended Berkowitz family) have a get together every month or so. Last week we hosted and here is the story (it's a bit long. I have to work on telling the story in fewer words (but not too few)).

Enjoy.

The Little Train

There is a famous children's book titled "The Little Engine That Could". It's a wonderful story about a little train whom no one thought could get over the hill. It was carrying all sort of fun paraphernalia (though my memory is not so great as to remember what sorts. I do remember a giraffe. I don't remember where I left my garage clicker.) and all of the bigger engines were laughing and making awfully rude remarks about it's supposed lack of strength. But despite all odds (and quite possibly because of the odds) the little train made it over the hill. All aboard rejoiced and faith was restored in trainkind, the publishing house made millions and the author a few hundred bucks.

The author's previous book however did not reach such critical acclaim. It was titled:

The Little Engine That Theoretically Could Have But Didn't Because He Was Too Lazy.

It was never published. It theoretically could have been, but the author was too lazy.

Sometimes I feel like the lazy train. School was always pretty easy, I never really needed to study and trying hard at was a foreign concept. Semicha was a bit tougher, but only a bit.

Nothing changed until I got married. Then BAM (yes in upper case letters. Named so for them being in the top drawer of the typesetters desk.). All of a sudden (all of a sudden? What the tuber is that supposed to mean) work is required. Hard work. No more Mr. Lazy Train.

It's more than work. In fact I shouldn't be really calling it work. It's discipline. It's going to bed at a certain time. It's structuring your day. Making a schedule. Keeping the schedule (crazy stuff). It's starting work and ending work. With a hard stop. Its not checking emails, not reading books (even self-help books, or some techno babble photography book). Its making time for your wife and kids. Real time, not shared time. Not with books, food an iPad or cellphone. It's waking up early and learning a it. It's getting to shul on time and starting with the minyan. It's following through with your promises.

I see some of my friends who aren't the brainiest, yet are happy and doing well financially. They had to work at school. Study. Take time off from playing around to hang out with a tutor. They learnt discipline.

I'm still trying.

Then the author made a third book. Although it wasn't as popular as the first, it was his favorite. It was titled:

The Little Engine That Theoretically Could Have But Didn't Because He Was Too Lazy But Then Worked His Tush Off And Finally Figured It Out

Up North and Black Again (again)

A few weeks back I headed up to Crescent City for another kosher cheese production (for the first time around, check out this post). This time, however, I decided to outsmart myself and drive up instead of flying. It's a long drive, but I did save a few hundred bucks (with which I promptly bought a new lens). To put that into perspective, by the time I hit San Francisco, I wasn't even halfway there. Figured that if I took my time and stop along the way, I could see some parts of California I never saw before, take some nice pics along the way etc. I took the 405 to the 1 (Pacific Coast Highway) which I then took all the way up to San Francisco (with many a stop along the way). Funny thing was, it was ridiculously foggy the whole way up and the only part of Cali I got to see was the 100 feet on each side of the freeway as I drove along (that's a slight exaggeration).

Highlights of the trip:

1. Pulling off the shoulder to take some pics and having this cop roll over with this HUGE gun (some sort of M-16 or something (EM Shesh Esrei in Hebrew)) and ask what I was doing (told him I was shooting something... well not really, but that does sound pretty macho of me).

2. Stopping at this camera store in Palo Alto (Keeble & Schuchat) where I picked up this ridiculously old and good looking lens (late 1960's). The dude that owns the place has a Leica collection on display worth well over 2 million buckaroos.

3. Sleeping.

4. Giving my new George Foreman to the clerk at the motel so I could then borrow it indefinitely and get out of toiveling it (she definitely now thinks I'm nuts).

5. Forgetting the Kosher stamp and having to sign my name and write Kosher L'Pesach on over 700 boxes.

6. Getting over 4.1 miles on neutral somewhere on the 101 (through the redwoods).

7. Getting over 6.2 mies in neutral somewhere on the 5 (and would have gotten more but there was this cop on the side of road making sure no one was speeding because the state needs money to pay it's police force to make sure people aren't speeding so the state could get money).

8. Losing half the tread of my tire shortly thereafter.

9. Discovering what it means to multi-task (driving with my knees, while adding some water to a vitamin water bottle (I like the water aspect more than the vitamin part I guess) and watching out for the fore-mentioned police men, all while taking a power nap).

Lesson learned: IF I am going to drive again, choose one place Id like to see, head straight there, spend a few hours, and then go straight on to my destination.

I also figured out how to use the mirror up function when shooting on a tripod. Yay. Of course I could have read the manual and such, but that would hardly be manly now, would it?

On to some pics. The first two are from my trip up. The rest are just some random black and whites.

Every time I go up to Crescent city (all of two times) I plan on taking a bunch of pictures of all these wonderfully dilapidated houses up there (and many in full technicolor glory). But I don't.

The last two where in good old HB. I should clone those spots out. I will, I promise.

If some one could explain to me why I shot this one wide open, I would greatly appreciate it.

Tehillim on Hoshana Rabbah.

Old Friends

Many years ago, in another incarnation, I was a diehard camp counselor. Back in those sunny Southern California summers in Silver Gan Israel, I breathed, lived, swam and slept camp (although not so much of the latter). One thing I wish I had done a lot more of is keeping in touch with the campers during the rest of the year. We had a really awesome time in the summer, had some great conversations about yiddishkeit, G-d, life, and other goodies, but after the summer I didn't keep it up enough. I sent card and called every once in a while, but I definitely could have done more.

One kid I did keep in touch with (to a certain extant) was a boy by the name of Daniel Calick (I got to start ditching this sentence structure, I could have just written "I did keep in touch with Daniel Calick" or something simple like that. What's with all the posturing? Sheesh). Smart kid, funny (with an odd habit of mixing his food groups a bit too much), and really interested in all things Jewish.

So when I needed to scout out the parks in the area (for some wedding shots that were going to happen, and have since), I gave Daniel a call. He obligingly obliged.

And the pics:

First few were in the Butterfly park off of Graham.

Next bunch were in Central Park (the other park wasn't that great for the shots I had in mind).

One of my old hiding places

I actually added some grain to this one (not very visible in the small size), I'm really liking this black and white thing.

Anyway, I ended up shooting the wedding formals in central park, twas more green and shady. And more central. Way more central. In fact if you would walk ten miles in each direction, Central park would be exactly in the center. Pretty neat.

wide angle yumminess

Perspective. It's all about perspective. As in the rest of life, there is much to learn from photography. As a Dorothy something-or-another once said "Photography is learning how to see without a camera". A good photographer notices things he previously would have been oblivious to. The wonderful way the afternoon sun lights up Chanaleh's hair. The spectacular swirls of oil in ate. The way the morning sidelight highlights textures. The flowers. The petals. The shapes and forms. The colors.

Another, and in my extremely humble (and proud of it) opinion, more important lesson is learning how to read yourself. Say you come on a what you think will be a great picture. Before you snap, you have figure out why this is interesting. What about this interests you. Once you qualify that, then you could figure out how best to express that in a photograph. Which perspective to use. Which lens. Portrait or landscape? Shallow or deep? What should you leave out and what should you keep in? Underexpose maybe a bit? Makes you slow down a bit, and it gets a little deeper each time, hopefully.

Perspective. That's how I started. There's a common misconception that a wide-angle lens gives a different perspective than say a telephoto lens. The truth is perspective as nothing to do with the lens, it has to do with how far you are from an object. A wide-angle lets you get closer, while still maintaining a wide angle, and the closer you get the more perspective changes.

For example (all pics were taken with a 24-70 @ 24mm and 2.8):

Here we have a wonderful picture of Chanaleh with a huge head and a ridiculously cute face. Her head looks so big because the camera is like 6 inches from her face.

The point is that sometimes theres this huge obstacle/problem/challenge that seems insurmountable by dint of its sheer brogdingnagianess. However, what you have to remember that the reason Chanaleh's head looks so big is because you are too close. Back off, take a breath allow other things into your field of vision. Broaden your perspective and Chanaleh's head won't seem as massive.

On the other hand since kids naturally have big heads, a close-up pic with a wide-angle lens (as long as their head isn't too close to the edge, then weird things start too happen) can magnify that cuteness. Adults on the other hand... No. Be very careful of shooting adults close-up with a wide-angle. They might never talk to you again. Even if you make their double chin disappear.

A few more examples:

A bit dizzyish, but cute nonetheless.

This you may be able to get away with with adults. I'm really getting into this black and white thing. It just seems so timeless (besides for the whole ipad-piano thingie).

Zevi doing his stretches with mommy.

More stretches.

Moral of the story. The perspective comes from where you are. Back up. Take a breath. Turn around. Touch your head. So says Simon.