A Brownie folding camera and an Olympus E-3, the latest in technology a hundred years apart.
A Brownie folding camera and an Olympus E-3, the latest in technology a hundred years apart.
The first snowstorm of the season, looking south from Spadina Circle to College Street.
I'm revisiting my Spadina Avenue project from June of 2005 for the 2007 Photographer of the Year contest at Fourthirdsphoto.com. This is the first of the new images that I'm considering using.
Another still life, still experimenting with the concept of home.
The book is "Photographing Architecture and Interiors" by the masterful Julius Shulman.
A handheld shot from the first snowfall of the season.
iso3200, 1/2s, f/4, 7mm, straight from the camera.
Shot using "live view" LCD finder, pivoted upwards, while the camera was resting on my boot.
Last night I had a conversation that led me to think about the similarities between the "Sunken City" landslide in San Pedro, where my father and stepmother live, and "The Brickworks" in Toronto where I am. They're both urban blights that have fallen into disuse and decay. They're hangouts for kids who want to do things that shouldn't be seen. Both are very dangerous to those who are careless and demand respect if they're to be visited safely. Authorities attempt to keep people out, which is continually challenged by the people who want to get in. And they're my favourite places to photograph, always changing and full of possibilities.
I've had a very photogenic couple of months, and I'm in danger of missing photos that I like simply because they're older. Rather than let these accumulate electronic dust, I've decided to gather my favourites and present them all at once. You can see all of my photos on one page by using the search toolbar to find the term "sunken city".
"Sunken City" Landslide, San Pedro, California.
I loved Shel Silverstien's book of poems as a child. The idea of a place where the sidewalk ends was unimaginably exotic to a kid growing up in the master-planned Don Mills community. (The second book, "A Light in the Attic", didn't resonate with me since I grew up in apartment buildings.)
"Sunken City" Landslide, San Pedro, California.
Every photographer I asked has hated this photo.
I no longer ask questions if I don't care about the answer.
I've always hated photos called "Untitled". If the photographer can't be bothered to name it, why should I be bothered to think about it?
As Brad Fraser wrote, Life's a barter system.
"Sunken City" Landslide, San Pedro, California.
Cruise ships are floating buffet tables. Gulls need to be a little more resourceful.
"Sunken City" Landslide, San Pedro, California.
My photograph titled "Sunken City" draws more traffic to this site than any other. I took this from the other end to be a companion to it.
The original "Sunken City" photo was taken from the rim of the landslide. Look for the place where the pavement projects slightly over the lip in this photo. The pavement in foreground of this photo is the large slab that's visible below the right-most hoodoo on the left-hand side of the older image. Once that makes sense, you can see both the full extent of the area and how much a photographer can change the appearance of a place by making different choices.
"Sunken City" Landslide, San Pedro, California.
In the climate I live in, this kind of damage could only be caused by freezing and tree roots heaving the pavement up. Here it's being caused by the ground underneath falling and being washed away.
It's not just the surface, but the entire structure of the ground that's broken.
"Sunken City" Landslide, San Pedro, California.
I like this tree. It's the same one that I turned into a firecracker in blown palm.
"Sunken City" Landslide, San Pedro, California.
There was a hardware store that sprayed "We Sell Krylon Paint" on its back wall in the Queen West alleyway. They were a lot more subtle than this.
"Sunken City" Landslide, San Pedro, California.
Taken last spring at the "Wings and Wheels" show, I've held on to this picture until now.
I do, I am, and I hope so.
Practicing for greeting cards in the home studio.
My mother gave me "Popular Songs: The Best of Wynton Marsalis" for Christmas one year, and "Sunflowers" was my favourite song on it. I'm a sucker for any good jazz that lets my subwoofer contribute.
Twilight on the main line.
This photo was a fun one to take. One hand held the E-1 with its battery grip and the 7-14 ultra-wide lens, a four-pound combination. The other was behind my back to direct the flash toward the graffiti. When I held the flash in front of my body, it caused flare in the 7-14's massive front element.
Starts with "G"... ends with "U C K". It's a Garbage Truck.
For post #404, I felt the need to go looking for something a little older. Fittingly, Lightroom had lost track of the original file.
There's more than one reason why Nat King Cole never sang about Highway 50.
'The Loneliest Road', Nevada.
One of my favourite images from Australia, taken from the train between M`lbun and Adeliade.
I knew what would happen when I submitted this to my photography club, and I'm pleased to say that it finished in a three-way tie for the lowest ranked image in the Intermediate category.
A near-infrared look at the roadbed in an abandoned landslide area.
'Sunken City', San Pedro, California
A new look at the atrium in BCE Place, designed by Santiago Calatrava and the location for the World Press Photo exhibit when it visits Toronto.
This is post #400. It's revisiting an old photo that I posted here on February 3, 2005.
I was standing in the same spot, but everything else has changed.
I started this blog on October 3, 2004, and posted three photos that day. One each was of my two dogs, and the third was a photo of a dragonfly that I took for my mother.
My first real lesson in photography was when I learned that a photograph can be the only chance to preserve something.