Chasing Shadows

The Puppet Master

My photo friend Ed and I have been chasing shadows for the past two weeks. We are doing so to keep us shooting and falling into photo ruts. The first week, Mother Nature provided a week full of muggy, cloudy days and overcast skies, which made our shadow chase difficult. During the second week, we had our chances but failed to find any unique shapes that really captivated our interests. So when you can't find what you want in the present, you dip into the past for inspiration. Therefore, I am sharing two photos from my archives.

I really like shadow photos because there is a sense of justice in allowing the shadow to assume the starring role in the photo as opposed to the supporting role shadows play in most photography. The top photo was one that I captured while out photographing other subjects. I wasn't looking for shadows; this one simply appeared out of nowhere. My first impression was that it carried a sinister aura, making it evident that I had come face-to-face with "The Puppet Master." While our eyes go to the light when we look at photos, our imagination is set in motion by the appearance of shadows. Shadows add so much mystery and dimension to photographs.  

The Touchdown

Not all shadows are sinister. My second shadow photo casts a more upbeat feel. Being that this weekend is the first official weekend of the NFL season, I couldn't help but notice its similarity to the signal used for a "touchdown." Both photos were shot in hard midday light, which created their sharp edges. Exposing for the highlights provided darker shadows, yielding a high-contrast look in both images.  

So while common advice calls for us to walk on the sunny side of the street, be on the lookout for shadows, which can set your imagination free.

Making the Ordinary Important 

My photo for this week was taken in a neighborhood that many would describe as dilapidated. The majority of the homes surrounding this one are in some stage of decline. The owners have given up on their properties by boarding up windows instead of repairing them, leaving trash in their yard, or by neglecting necessary and simple repairs to their homes. My guess would be that many of the occupants are renters as opposed to owners, and neither the owner nor the resident feels responsible or compelled to make any improvements, no matter how simple or essential they are. It is within this context that this image is important to me.  

A fair number of photos which I take bring a story to me.  This house may have a sentimental appeal because as a boy, I lived in such neighborhoods. My parents rented, but kept their property clean inside and out.  Dad had some gardening skills and mom never failed to decorate doors and windows for the seasons in simple and inexpensive ways.  It wasn't our dream home but it was a home where hope and gratitude grew.   A short quote from photographer Elliot Erwitt describes this feeling consisely: 

"To me, photography is an art of observation. It's about finding something interesting in an ordinary place... I've found it has 
little to do with the things you see and everything to do 
with the way you see them."

What I see in this photo is a hint of rebellion that is universally felt as an undercurrent in our society. People feel powerless, insignificant, and disconnected in a variety of small ways each day that affect their mindset. Consequently, they respond by withdrawl and cynicism.  In this home, I see a resident refuses to be powerless and has subtly planted the seeds of a personal revolution. While the door may be rusty and the sidewalk heaving, the flowers and greenery push back against the rest of the neighborhood's message of neglect and decline. Yes, it is a small act within his/her grasp that sends a message of hope and beauty to all who pass by this house daily. In the verbage of the 1960s revolutionary times, this is a true example of "flower power."