When taking photographs I try to settle into a meditative mode, concentrating on my breathing. Mental chatter and ruminative daydreaming remain but recede in importance. Michael Wood, in his book “Opening the Good Eye”, emphasizes the importance of staying in the same place for hours to give elements in that environment enough time to reach out to you.

As if on cue, after I finished Wood’s book, my car had to be serviced. I was stuck for hours waiting for the job to be done. Boredom, impatience, noise, and hustle made the meditative mode difficult to achieve, but I forced myself, until that car dealership became the only place I wanted to be in the entire world.

After a long while, headlights, taillights, chrome, and shiny painted areas started to reach out to me for attention. Here are my favorites:

1- Blinding reflections of the sun bounce back and forth against a complex array of surfaces inside a headlight. Scrapes and scratches from wear and tear add texture.

2 - A car door reflects a window. It gives me the urge to convert it into an oversized oil painting.

3 - A closeup of a headlight is recognizable as such. I love the wide range between sharp focus and blur created by narrow depth of field.

As a photographic artist, I run aground every now and then. Sometimes I think I might start repeating myself, I’ve come to the end of a series, or I’ve just run out of ideas. A recent experiment to dislodge myself from “photographer’s block” is a flop.

On Facebook, I’m following the Miksang Institute for Contemplative Photography.

http://www.miksang.com

Their images are surreal and exquisitely simple at the same time. I want to be close to their subject matter and sit with it for a while. The message: Empty yourself of all preconceived visual frameworks, be still, and let what you see become a part of you.

After immersing myself in these images, I was hurrying off to do routine errands, when this seemed to hit me in the face. Against the interior garage wall, the sun cast reflections and shadows of a break light on my car.

The Prince phenomenon was like a jewel box.  From a distance you see his studio that looks like an elegantly simple white box complex. The “jewels” inside: the full range of sensual experience: music; sound; colors (attire and lighting); mists; taste (he served delicious gourmet); smells (floral, earth, etc.); touch (dancing; kissing), to name just a few. Some guests experienced sensations totally new to them. Musician Prince created original performances/music as easily as he exhaled. How could the rest of us be so inspired, each in our own way?

Inspiration from my panoramic dental x-ray

I’m always surprised when inspiration comes from the most unexpected sources. After my dentist took a panoramic dental x-ray of my teeth and gums, I noticed an interesting segment that might make a nice abstract drawing. I asked him for a copy, which he promptly emailed to me. Here is the x-ray with the segment indicated, and also the segment by itself.

Playing with Photoshop

I love playing with possibilities that exist for a single image, in this instance a shot looking down on sidewalk steps. Signs say watch your step. But the play of shadows and lines on these steps almost tripped me up. They’re a visual symphony. I think that the dirt and water stains or kind of painterly. 

Sidewalk Plaid: In Photoshop, I duplicated it, turned one copy 90 degrees, and then blended the two images. 

Sidewalk Fabric: a fabric design composite of flips and dupes of “Sidewalk Plaid.” How could I have this printed on actual cotton fabric? I think it would make a great smock. 

In my intense struggle to find a visual footing in my new neighborhood, Chattanooga, Tennessee, with it’s hazy light, muted skies, and murky water, I took a stab at photojournalism, which I thought might provide a beat, and an excuse to roam, chat with strangers, learn something, and run across art shots along the way. Here’s my photo essay about the Chickamauga Dam and one of its consequences, the Chickamauga Lake.

But, according to my mentor, a true photojournalist would visit his/her subject area every day for a month, get inside one of those boats, and follow one of those human subjects to wherever they decided to go next, maybe a party. Was he kidding? LOL_at Chickamauga Dam and Lake, Chattanooga, Tennessee.