Lessons From Lucy: The Process

I was interested in the comments this week about my photos of Lucy. I do think that good pictures have to do with a combination of good photography and keeping a camera on-hand. (I think the subject has a little to do with it as well, but grandmothers are allowed to be a little prejudiced. . . . Well, aren't they?)

I keep my tiny digital camera and a little notebook with me almost all the time -- upstairs, downstairs, on the porch, in the car, in meetings. I do have to remember to use them. I have loved editing, cropping and looking for that second meaning in the photos just as I do with painting. So today, I offer this little photo essay about "The Process."

1. Getting Started. "I'm thinking." Lucy is obviously considering two ways to go with her creation. What will she use? Paint? Collage? Or Both?
















2. Decision Making. "It's Just Not Working." Lucy finds that the process is not always straight forward with expected results. Some adjustments must be made! "Maybe I'm not sitting in the right position."















3. Taking a Fresh Look. "I Need a Break." Lucy learns that sometimes the best answer is just to stop for a while and take a walk around the block, have a snack.
















4. Finding Satisfaction. "I Like It." Don't push so hard. Sometimes its just supposed to FEEL right.


















5. Knowing when to stop. "I'm Done." There might be some tweaking later, but for now Lucy has worked hard, likes what she has and thinks she'll ride her tricycle -- in her pink dress-up shoes, of course.

The Peaches Were Being Picked

Fuzzy Skins times Three

One of the things I am learning about my digital camera is that I take lots of shots of lots of things. Sometimes I am surprised at what I get. Sometimes I am surprised by what I had not seen.

Three In A Row

Daughter Susan teaches at a rural school and stopped by her classroom last week to return some books and files. When she came home, she had bags of fresh veggies and a basket of peaches from a roadside stand. She said she couldn't resist because the peaches near the school were begin picked and the peach smell filled the air. We spread them out on a table and the peach smell filled the house.

Suddenly, I placed a few in a window, grabbed my digital camera began to shoot. Eleven shots of the same five peaches. Never that many with my print camera; one or two and I'm done! In those photos, I discovered an amazing variety of light conditions -- a whole cache of painting possibilities.

"Is This My Best Side?"

Oh, my! This is exactly what I have tried to tell my painting students:

Don't just paint what you think you see.

In Its Shadow

Create other possibilities of lighting and composition with photos or thumbnails.

Okay, Line Up

Try a series of paintings.

Waiting On Stage

Make notes in your sketchbook or in your files. "The peaches were being picked."

Two Plus Three

Sometimes I need a reminder.

Unexpected Seeing

In November, around the time of my birthday, daughter Susan gave me a lovely new digital camera which has so many things to learn and I have been so excited to have a new toy.

So I planned an early morning trip to catch the sunrise among the peach groves of South Carolina.I drove about 30 miles and spent my time photographing . . . a rain-soaked countryside. Oh, well.











I left home early on another day and made the drive under a beautiful morning sky. Nearing my destination, I realized that visibility was decreasing and, when I arrived at the peach groves, I was dismayed to discover them socked in with fog. Strike two on photographing the perfect sunrise.

So much for getting out the door at 'O dark thirty!' (which in case you don't know is pretty early.)

Since those two disappointing mornings, I have played with these images which fill my camera -- editing, deleting, cropping.

I have discovered that I didn't need a perfect sunrise to capture the mystery of the morning.

I just needed to be ready to see the unexpected.