In the loupe

Death Valley: Beyond the Imagination.

2012-02-03T09:50:00.000-05:00

“The spirit of Timbisha has received many travelers from other lands, and all of Mother Earth’s belongings; the home of the Timbisha Shoshone Newe (Peoples), has been used as a commodity of sorts. Timbisha is not a “valley of death” – it is the valley of the Red Ochre. Red Ochre is used spiritually by the Newe with its Healing Power. Not of death but for life. Waters from the mountains to the east and west flow underground into this valley. Overflows of nearby springs once formed streams of surface water by its own course, bringing life.”

- Pauline Esteves, Tribal Elder

The Timbisha Shoshone Indians were devasted to learn that pioneers misunderstood their homeland enough to name it "Death Valley." To the people who lived in the area for more than a millennium, the valley's resources offered everything necessary for comfort and contentment. Traditional brush homes made perfect desert dwellings, allowing breezes to filter in through the arrowweed walls. Men hunted jackrabbits and bighorn sheep, using arrows tipped with stone points. Women wove baskets so intricately coiled they could hold water. These were sometimes decorated with patterns of interlocking shapes or a delicate geometry of lizards and butterflies.

The Timbisha's oral history relates that they have lived in the area since time immemorial -- and, many visitors are surprised to learn, still live in the heart of Death Valley today. To fully understand the valley in all its vast dimensions, it is essential to be aware of of this deep connection between the natural landscape and Timbisha Shoshone culture.

A kinship with the ancients is strongly felt in a landscape that looks much as it did when they inhabited it. Dreams take shape here. Deserts do that. Chimeras. Mirages. Thoughts that begin to form patterns rather than bouncing back at you. Tricks of light that make the veil between form and illusion thin to the point of disappearing. Looking up at the stars, I felt wonderfully small.

Zabriskie Point

This land is not a subtle place; the effects of the forces of nature are glaringly obvious in the tortured landscape, where rocks have been lifted and eroded, twisted and metamorphosed, then left naked. And yet, in the midst of this climate of extremes (and despite decades of full-scale mining operations in the area), birds and rodents and reptiles and insects live together in intricate, delicately balanced communities. Death Valley even boasts its own species of fish and snail. Over the next few days I explored the mountains, canyons and flats of the park, reveling in the silence, the solitude and the vistas. It could take an eternity to learn all it’s secrets.

The Mesquite Sand Dunes

Beautiful colors in this aptly named Artist's Palette area

It's said that the West was built on legends. And that legends are a way of understanding things greater than ourselves. Forces that shape our lives, events that defy explanation.
The valley of the Red Ochre is such a place.

THE LA SAL CANYON WILDERNESS

2012-01-02T09:31:00.000-05:00

Mid-July, 1957. Noon. A ranger at Arches National Park takes refuge from the 110-degree heat under the shade of his house trailer’s awning, and observes the 12,000-foot-high La Sal Mountains rising off to the southeast. The ranger is Edward Abbey, an unknown writer whose book Desert Solitaire will one day make him famous. In a passage from that book, written nine years later, he recaptures the view from his shaded ramada: "The mountains are almost bare of snow except for patches within the couloirs on the northern slopes. Consoling nevertheless, those shrunken snowfields, despite the fact that they're twenty miles away by line of sight and six to seven thousand feet higher than where I sit. They comfort me with the promise that if the heat down here becomes less endurable I can escape for at least two days each week to the refuge of the mountains -- those islands in the sky surrounded by a sea of desert. The knowledge that refuge is available, when and if needed, makes the silent inferno of the desert more easily bearable. Mountains complement desert as desert complements city, as wilderness complements and completes civilization.”

Edward Abbey is gone, buried in an unmarked grave somewhere in the desert. But the mountains he once looked to for refuge remain on the horizon, just as they have for the past 20 million years.
The forests and lakes in Utah’s second-highest mountain range provide a dramatic contrast to the barren slick rock and sands of the surrounding desert. A journey through Castle Valley and the La Sal Mountain range, reaching an impressive 12,721 ft. elevation, includes both desert and mountain terrain providing a nice visual contrast of red rock and green forests. The La Sal Mountains are filled with aspens, maples and gambel oak rivaling anything you’ll find in the Rockies. The La Sal mountains not only complement the redrock desert below -- they have shaped it as a potter shapes clay. Rising above the surrounding landscape, the mountains mine water from the clouds and store it in snowfields and lakes. Spring-fed perennial streams radiate in every direction from the La Sals, each entrenched in a winding canyon carved through colorful rock. The La Sals are surrounded by a labyrinth of their own design.

The 142-mile Kokopelli bike Trail blasts out of the gates near Fruita, Colorado, with cliff-top trails perched above the Colorado River. Crossing into Utah, the Kokopelli bike trail twice crests 8,500 feet. The last apex, high in the La Sal Mountains, marks the trail's descent into Moab—a rollicking drop of nearly 7,000 vertical feet over 32 miles. Then it follows desert track and jeep roads and on to Moab.

And speaking of jeep roads, high clearance, four wheel drive is the only way to get around out here. Off road tires and a good spare are a necessity. The rugged landscape which surrounds the La Sal mountain range is cut off from the outside world by the Colorado River on the north, the Dolores River on the east, and by the cliff walls of Spanish Valley on the west. Remote, rugged, intact, the entire region retains, to this day, the feel of primeval wilderness.

The world is a book and those who do not travel read only one page. – St. Augustine

Here's to a New Year filled with exploration!

Navajo Nation - Canyon de Chelly

2011-12-09T13:17:00.006-05:00

It was a two hour ride on horseback to the floor of Canyon de Chelly and what shows up in the desert light are the remains of homes, nine centuries old, of stunning red rock canyons with an abundance of sacred beauty and seldom seen archeological sites that drew the cameras of Edward Curtis and Ansel Adams. But it’s much more than that. It's a hike in the footprints of the ancients!

Canyon de Chelly (pronounced “de Shay”) is located in northeastern Arizona within the boundaries of the Navajo Nation. What makes Canyon de Chelly unique is that it sustains a living community of Navajo people. These Navajo are connected to the landscape and it has for them, great historical and spiritual significance. Early every spring, after the winter thaw, a dozen Navajo families still return to their old homesteads at the bottom of the canyons. It is believed that the canyon has sustained human civilization for over four thousand years. Early Anasazi, ancestors of the Hopis, built their first cliff dwellings high in the sandstone alcoves. The Navajo people followed them and have used it as a sacred refuge for centuries.

White House ruins in Canyon de Chelly National Monument. One of the hiking trails is White House Ruin Trail. It’s 1.25 miles one way and drops down 600 ft. The hike takes approximately 2 hours.

Mummy Cave Ruin (pictured here in the two 'eyes' and the larger structure in between) is one of the largest pueblo villages in the canyon and was occupied until about 1300.

Close up of the ruins inside the left eye.

On the other side at the same site, a small ruin, Yucca Cave, is visible in an alcove perched high on the canyon wall.  

To visit this sacred place you have to hire a guide of tribal ancestry. Our guide, Newton Martinez, pointed out "The land we live on has been passed down from generation to generation. We believe the Holy People (Time of the Beginning) instructed the Dine' where to live. All this canyon land is covered with our foot prints" said Newton. "It's where we had our genesis; It is where we learned the Dine' way of life, and the lessons that guide us." Newton is also an artist and I was delighted to acquire this piece from him.

He told us about his grandfathers, Navajo code talkers during World War II, who provided encoded information for Marine units using Navajo words. I asked whether he preferred to be called Navajo or Diné.

“I’m very proud to be Diné,” he said thoughtfully. “That’s what we call ourselves — it means ‘the people.’ ”

Canyonlands - America's Wild West!

2011-11-05T15:27:00.003-04:00

Much of the area known as the Canyonlands is a landscape of oblivion, an arid sink bowing into the Colorado Plateau. In some places, dusty sagebrush steppes extend as far as the eye can see, in others, scabs of desert lie naked under the sun, completely devoid of any vegetation. Canyonlands lies here in a basin more than 500 square miles across, and it was here that I wanted to explore. After flying in to Salt Lake City, I had rented a high clearance, 4 wheel drive for the journey and drove to Moab where I picked up enough food and water for the week and continued on to my destination.

I set up camp in Horse Thief Canyon in the early evening, the smell of juniper and pinon pine evident in the air. After a gourmet dinner of freeze dried Sicilian Lasagna, I got my gear ready for the morning and my first stop; Upheaval Dome.

Upheaval Dome is one of the closest things to a moonscape on earth. For many years, Upheaval Dome has kept geologists busy trying to figure out its origin. They once assumed that salt of the Paradox Formation pushed rock layers upward to form the dome. However, there is strong evidence that a meteorite impact caused the formation. I was up at first light, had breakfast and coffee, strapped on my pack, and started out. After about six miles I could see the Upheaval dome area. There are no trails here, just courses of geology and aprons of boulders pulled down by gravity and erosion. This is where the Anasazi lived. False Kiva is near here. This is a place to disappear. The ridge sloped upward, at first gradually, then sharply, and there was a sharp slope of loose talus. Being careful, I got on my hands and knees and the larger rocks and boulders seemed scarcely more stable than the talus, but after about an hours climb, I was able to work my way to the top without mishap. I climbed over a final row of boulders onto a ledge, looked around, and only then realized that I had, quite by accident, ascended to the summit of False Kiva. After spending some time in grateful contemplation I ate lunch and then set up my camera and tripod.

I reversed my route to get off the mountain and headed toward level ground. My next stop was Green River Overlook and I had hoped to make it before nightfall. Along the way I picked up a mountain lions’ tracks a short distance back and followed them to a shelf of rimrock dropping off to an inner canyon below. Continuing south, I realized I wasn’t going to make the overlook before dark so I stopped instead a little north of Willow Flats to pitch my tent and spend the night. I woke just before dawn. An inkling of light touched the sky outside my tent. The wind was fierce, bolting through a copse of juniper trees and pinon pines. I made a hot breakfast and washed it down with some strong cowboy coffee, broke camp and headed out to the Green River Overlook.

With half my food and water gone, it was time to hike back to my jeep. I hiked about six miles (approx halfway) and spent the night north of Aztec Butte on the canyon road trail. I've been backpacking for four days now and except for a handful of people that were at Mesa Arch for the sunrise, the hike has been in solitude. For me, this is one of the reasons to come here, what better way to cleanse the mind, body and soul then to be crossing a chasm at once miles from nowhere and at the same time in the middle of the universe.

Back in the jeep, I have two more destinations I need to see before I head back to reality. The first one is Dead Horse Point and it lies just on he eastern perimeter of the Island in the Sky district. The main overlook of Dead Horse Point State Park has a 270° vista over the Colorado and its side canyons, from the bright turquoise tailing ponds of a potash mining complex in the northeast, along the river and south across vast areas of eroded ridges, buttes, pinnacles and cliffs with the La Sal Mountains in the far distance, then west to the near side of the Island in the Sky mesa and northwest along several branches of Shafer Canyon. Plenty of the river and its corridor of greenery is visible, 1,900 feet below, including one big gooseneck meander close to the viewpoint.

Driving south to the Needles section of Canyonlands, to my last stop, I pass Moab and drive down Rt 191 to 211. I’ve arrived at Newspaper rock, a place where people migrated to, pilgrimage sites where the Ancients came to embellish very specific stories. The ancient Hopi symbol for migration is a spiral, an icon seen in rock art and pottery all over the southwest. The meaning and purpose of rock art remains a mystery. There is no universally accepted interpretation among archaeologists. Explanations range from a form of written history to doodling. Only the artists knew the meaning of the images.

There's been a lot going on in the world (and my world) for many months now and things seem to be moving so fast that I've had a hard time being able to focus on what’s important. The journey aids in peeling away much of the layers of negativity that I’ve allowed to accumulate. The connection to Spirit flows stronger after a journey such as this, and back home now I feel aligned & connected. I've got a few new gigs to shoot, some local and others out of state. I’ll be visiting with family and old friends and doing my best to stay in touch with my Self. I hope to do for many years.

Dedicated to Michael Branco, a true renaissance man who was an avid outdoorsman, fisherman, gourmet chef, worldwide adventurer, and my close friend. Requiescat in Pace Michael!

Of barns, farms and old pickup trucks

2011-10-02T18:52:00.000-04:00

Some vacations you revel in. Some vacations you just have to make the best of what you're handed. Karen and I were headed up to Eaglesmere, Pa for the fine arts festival that I was exhibiting at, and from there we wanted to do some hiking and shooting in the beautiful and very rural upstate Pennsylvania. Weather at this mid-August show runs the gamut from humid and hot, to high winds and thunderstorms. As luck would have it, thunderstorms closed the show early on Sunday so we packed up and drove back to the bed and breakfast that we were staying at. Monday morning we had a wonderful country breakfast and were deciding whether to head out or spend the day chillaxing. The weather took care of that decision. It was cloudy, gloomy and damp, rain falling off and on the entire time. Having our room on the creek side didn't help. The dampness wafted up the steep bank and just cut right through to the bone. We caught cabin fever early and, with rain gear at hand, decided to hop in the truck and do some exploring. Here’s what we found!

So the next time you want to get away from it all, try exploring the back roads and smaller byways whenever possible rather than just motoring along on a large freeway. As the late Charles Kuralt once said, "Thanks to the Interstate Highway System, it is now possible to travel across the country from coast to coast without seeing anything." The best part of traveling with no set destination is you can never get lost!

Rickett's Glen State Park

2011-09-01T19:21:00.004-04:00

YOU hear falling water before you see it, and the soundarouses an ancient curiosity – and we hike as though we are drawn to it by someancient instinctive attraction. Maybe it’s about the promise of a primeval thrill, or maybe just aboutwhat obstacle lies next on the trail. Natural wetlands, and a series of wild,free-flowing waterfalls, cascading through rock-strewn clefts are abundant inthis ancient forest.

Old growth timber, including hemlocks that stood on this continent before Columbus, (ringcounts on fallen trees reveal some are up to 900 years old) traverses the area.My wife and I hiked this trail with our children throughout their grade schooland high school years. Last year my son came with us and brought his fiancé. Mymiddle daughter hiked this trail just last month with a friend. There issomething about waterfalls and their continual renewal which reminds me of thepassage of time and the circle of life.

Rickett's Glen State Park is registered as a NationalNatural Landmark and it’s not surprising that the Falls Trail Loop at RickettsGlen State Park was named best in Pennsylvania, according to an article in theJanuary 2009 issue of Backpacker Magazine. Here’s one way to hike it;

Start from the Falls trailhead off PA 118, and follow the path as it crisscrosses gurgling Kitchen Creek for1.3 easy miles through a forest of 500-year-old hemlock, oak, birch, ash, andmaple. At 1.8 miles, you’ll reach the confluence of Kitchen Creek’s twobranches.

At Waters Meet, the streams of Ganoga Glen and Glen Leigh come crashing together in a kind of grand hydrologic theater of the woods, and hikers pause on footbridges to watch the show.

The trail lollipops up one gorge to the Highland Trail, which connects to another for the return. Forty-one-foot Huron Falls (the fifth falls in Glen Leigh) cascades over multiple steps through the narrow gorge to a rocky amphitheater with a natural bench.

Head up Glen Leigh Gorge to approach Adams’s falls from below.

Trail Information

Nearby City: Wilkes-Barre

Length: 7.2 total miles

Elevation Gain: 1,081 feet  

Trail Type: Loop  

Skill Level: Moderate  

Season: Year round  

Trailhead Elevation: 1,220 feet  

Top Elevation: 2,200 feet  

Local Maps: USGS Red Roc

If you go;

The full loop trail is over seven miles and the terrain isrocky and slippery. This trail has some very steepand difficult sections. Please be sure that you are properly preparedby being in good physical condition and by wearing sturdy hiking footwear.

Passing thru Eternity

2011-07-28T21:20:00.001-04:00

At heart, the area around Antelope canyon is a savage, rural place. The arid, desert zones have nurtured legends of people living between reality and fantasy, solidarity and solitude. The essence of this place can be found here where the sun beats down on the hard dry soil, where towns are still linked together by unpaved roads, where farmers tend to their fields on horseback, and where the Navajo call “home”. The Navajo name for Upper Antelope Canyon is Tse' bighanilini, which means "the place where water runs through rocks." Upper Antelope is at about 4,000 feet elevation and the canyon walls rise 120 feet above the streambed. The Navajo name for Lower Antelope Canyon is Hasdestwazi, or "spiral rock arches" and to older Navajos, entering a place like Antelope Canyon was like entering a cathedral. They would probably pause before going in, to be in the right frame of mind and prepare for protection and respect. This would also allow them to leave with an uplifted feeling of what Mother Nature has to offer, and to be in harmony with something greater than themselves. It was, and is, a spiritual experience.

To enter, we walk up a rock face and look for a crevice in the rock.

Once we find it we climb in.

Climbing down into the canyon, we linger at the sunbeams which pour down like heavenly messages. Climbing further down still, it is a time to pause for reflection in a spiritual wonderland, we let the quiet and color soak into our bones, and take a bit of the canyon into our heart.

Back home now I close my eyes and let my imagination take over, although scientific explanation assuredly has its place here, these visual delights fit easily into the domain of art.

If you go;
Roads can become impassable in wet weather, and conditions can change quickly. The terrain is rough, water is scarce and the weather is often extreme in most areas.  In the summer, the trails are hot and dry; in winter, elevations make them subject to severe cold and high winds. Due to the quick changes in the weather, be aware of the dangers of flash floods. The beauty of Antelope Canyon can be deadly. During monsoon season rain water can quickly flood the canyon. It doesn't have to downpour on or near the canyon slots for flash floods to whip through, as rain falling dozens of miles away "upstream" can funnel into the canyon with little prior notice. Eleven hikers were killed in Antelope Canyon by a flash flood. Very little rain fell at the site, but an earlier thunderstorm had dumped a large amount of water into the canyon basin, several miles upstream and a wall of water slammed into the 12 people in the bottom of the canyon and swept them downstream. Only one person survived.

Visiting the Ancients

2011-07-04T08:03:00.000-04:00

Square, circular and D-shaped towers have stood for eight centuries on a canyon rim at what’s now called Hovenweep in Utah. Their function remains a mystery. Celestial tracking? Message signaling? Spiritual ceremonies? Or defense, considering the strategic portholes and lack of ground-level doors? There was plenty to contemplate during our hike around this silent pre-Columbian historical site along the southeastern border of Utah.

Structures are perched on boulders and tucked under ledges. Other sights from the loop trail include rugged mountains stretching to the horizon and “Avatar”-like collared lizards with brilliant yellow heads and turquoise and white-dotted bodies.

At some of the D-shaped towers, all four of the major solar events-equinoxes and solstices-could be observed in rooms within the towers.

The masonry at Hovenweep is as skillful as it is beautiful. Even the cliff dwellings of Mesa Verde rarely exhibit such careful construction and attention to detail. Some structures built on irregular boulders remain standing after more than 700 years.

A prolonged drought from 1276 to 1299 created major problems for the Ancestral Puebloan communities. The drought meant that they could not grow enough food to feed their people. From the Hovenweep area of Utah, the people began a migration south into the Rio Grande Valley in New Mexico and the Little Colorado River Basin in Arizona. Here they established new villages and merged with existing populations to become many of the contemporary Pueblos.

According to modern Pueblo traditions, the ancient communities were abandoned because the serpent god mysteriously left. The serpent god controls rain and fertility. The people left the towns and followed the snake's trail until they found a river where they once again built their communities.

Late in the day, just before dusk, the skies cleared and the valley sentinels cast long shadows across the expanse of desert. The sun is at a low angle, this was the magic hour for photography and I was right where I wanted to be. The colors are deep, rich and variegated, and so luminous that light seems to glow or shine out of the rock rather than to be reflected from it.

Ravens had been flying in and out of Hovenweep Castle earlier and now, with my camera on tripod, I started to record their flight.

The next morning driving back in I was caught behind the Crow Canyon school bus as it wove and bumped its way along the dirt road, leaving a huge plume of fine choking dust in its wake. Driving through the endless fields, I realized that in spite of its name (Hovenweep means “deserted valley”) today, it is frequented by archaeologist, students, and tourists, and inhabited by bean farmers, Park rangers, and field workers. Rumor has it that the roads to Hovenweep National Monument soon will be paved, attracting still more visitors to the towers.

Also in progress is the Dolores Project irrigation system, which will change local farming from dry bean fields and winter wheat to totally new crops. Just as the Anasazi farmers of Hovenweep replaced an indigenous hunting and gathering system with acres of cultivated corn, beans, and squash, so too are twentieth-century Hovenweep economic “pioneers” challenging the traditions and life style of the area's long time residents. The Anasazi eventually departed, and no doubt today's generation will someday leave. Who can guess how long it may be before Hovenweep is once again a deserted valley?

If you go.

Hovenweep is high desert and accessible by narrow, dirt roads. No water, no food, no services. The ruins in this part of the country require a good bit of walking. If you're looking for backcountry hiking and camping, bring lots of water and watch out for rattlesnakes, scorpions and mountain lions.

All along the Watchtower

2011-06-09T12:05:00.003-04:00

On a cliff in Arizona stands the reason I could die and not regret having never seen Machu Picchu, or the Pyramids in Egypt. Undoubtedly one of the best views in all of the Grand Canyon is from the eastern most boundary called Desert View. From here you can witness God’s handiwork at it’s finest, from the turquoise water of the Colorado River to the hiking trails that take you deep into the canyon floor. There is a tranquility that touches your mind, your heart and your soul as you drink in the beauty. But is it the colors that mesmerize you. It seems to be ever changing as the light moves across it's face. There are different shades of purples, blues, greens, reds, orange, browns, tans that like an artist's paintbrush caressing the canvas comes alive before your eyes as the glorious canyon moves throughout the light of the day and into the night.     

The Indian Watchtower is at the eastern end of the south rim of the Grand Canyon. From a distance the building's silhouette looks like the Anasazi watchtower it was meant to mimic. The building sits out on a promontory overlooking the Grand Canyon.

The most architecturally impressive section of the building is undoubtedly the tower interior. The structure of this space is entirely plastered and all of the walls are covered with murals. The most distinct images, painted by Hopi artist Fred Kabotie depict various aspects of Hopi mythology and religious ceremonies. The other murals done by Fred Greer are more subtle in color and purposefully softer in detail, and are copies of prehistoric pictographs and petroglyphs. The tiny windows of the tower let in a minimal amount of light that adds to the cave- like, mystical atmosphere of the space. Experiencing the multiple levels and circular balconies and the hundreds of prehistoric images inundates the viewer with an overwhelming sense of the southwest.

Photography, at least good photography, is science tempered with the blood of art.

2011-04-29T14:25:00.002-04:00

Silver halides in a digital world!

Digital photography and the ascent of the Web have quickened our jobs. Instead of one deadline a day, we now have continual deadlines, bringing exponentially increasing speed to what we do.

One advantage of using larger formats is that the process is slower. It takes time to set up the camera. It takes time to visualize what you want.

When doing portraits, it enables the photographer to talk and listen to subjects, to observe their behavior. When I use a 4-by-5 camera for portraits, I will compose the picture and step back. Using a long cable release, I will look at the subject and wait for the moment. It’s very liberating.

For this series that I was hired for I used a large-format camera, which not only renders greater detail and a creamier palette but also make capturing a special moment more difficult because of the technical and lighting complexity. The method not only reinforces the fundamental tension of photography: the singling out of a frozen moment from the flow of time, but it gives the work a very distinctive look.

Photography: James Evangelista; Fashion Stylist: Marisol Gómez, Stylist Assistant: Guillermo Lugo, Hair & Makeup: Cory Bauer

The Ancient City of Chaco Canyon

2011-03-15T16:18:00.000-04:00

"Not easily interpreted" is how our guide, G.B. Cornucopia describes Chaco Canyon Culture.

An extraordinary architectural masterwork of the ancient Pueblo Indians (A.D. 850 to 1250), this four-story "great house" has at least 600 rooms spread over four acres. Even for an outsider like me, the canyon can evoke a sense of the mystical. Once, as lightning flashed over a distant mesa, a crow hovered above me, his wings seeming to flap in slow motion, fanning the air with an audible whoosh-whoosh. He was probably trying to steal my food, but it felt like a spiritual visitation.

Walls align north-south and east-west with absolute precision; great houses align with other great houses throughout the canyon; windows turn out to be astronomical observatories of subtle cunning, timing the solstices and equinoxes like a huge stone clock – and webbing it all is a network of laser-straight connecting roads, nearly lost with age.

All in the middle of the most arid, silent, isolated region you can imagine.

“When the sun gets low and the richness of the colors is increased this place looks like it glows from within.” —G.B. Cornucopia.

I left glad to have made the journey, not only for the content, but for the human connection and I look forward to coming back in a not too distant future.

Casa Chiquita

Chetro Ketl

Kin Kletso

Pueblo Bonito

Pueblo Del Arroyo

Waterfall Photography

2011-02-08T12:32:00.004-05:00

Water splashing over mossy rocks seems to evoke a response in people, as though they were drawn to it by some ancient instinctive attraction. To me, waterfalls represent exuberance and an uninhibited outpouring of creative energy. Their continual renewal reminds us of the passage of time and the circle of life. Waterfalls can also symbolize hidden beauty and mystery, because what lies behind the waterfall is often a secret. You may enjoy hiking to a waterfall or just listening quietly to a stream and observing the plants and animals that live in these cool waters.
Within these images, I tried to invoke a feeling of vanishing moments when light, water, and time hold one's being in their grip and solicits a quiet and introspective moment that reflects the solitude of the work.

Cucumber Falls, Pa

Ozone Falls, Pa

Elakala Falls, WV

Shawnee Falls, Pa

Watkins Glen, Ny

Yellowstone Falls, Wy

East Coast Lighthouses

2011-01-26T12:56:00.001-05:00

Lighthouses are symbols of national achievement, dependability under duress and hope. Some find personal meaning, with the beacon serving as a metaphor of guidance in their own spiritual quest. These differing perspectives of lighthouses all inspire an affinity for the special places created at the meeting point of water and earth. The timeless relationship and the interactive dynamics between sea, earth and sky, touching and caressing the lighthouse at every moment of the day, inspired me to create the images in this collection.

Bass Harbor Light

You have to visit the Maine coast in the summer in order to experience the smell of fresh air. Near the ocean with each crashing wave, the fresh air is filled with scents that are at full peak in summer. In the woods, the fresh air is filled with pine scent and moss. Each is unique and has a calming influence over the senses, and if you are at rest they will put you right to sleep.

I arrived at Cape Neddick before dawn. The water around the Light is very hypnotic. Normally, the current of the 100-yard waterway between the island and mainland has a strong, back-and-forth rocking motion, but a fast moving storm the night before had the waves crashing against the rocky shoreline harder than it usually does. I set up my camera and tripod in the dark and decided not to wait for first light to portray the relief sailors must have felt when they saw the beacon lighting the dangerous rocks in story waters.

This is a late afternoon shot with the face of Pemaquid Light in full sun and the sloping, layered granite rocks in the foreground. The granite rocks are layered and almost take an a petrified wood appearance. I wanted to show the sheerness and height of the cliffs, and of course, catch the reflection of the light house in the puddle, so I perched myself precariously close to the edge to capture this photograph.

Marshall Point is located on the very tip of St. Georges Peninsula, Maine. This brick and granite lighthouse was built in 1857 and is still an active Coast Guard aid to navigation. Remember the scene in the movie Forrest Gump when Tom Hanks ended his cross-country run at a lighthouse? Thats this lighthouse.

Hereford Inlet Lighthouse, built in 1874, was the first building on an uninhabited sandbar. Shipwrecks of whalers and merchant ships around the sandbar compelled Congress to fund a lighthouse. With a white light now signaling safe passage from ocean to inlet, a fishing village was built around the lighthouse. It was first known as Anglesea, home to boat builders and other maritime craftsmen. Over time, the main industry of the sandbar changed from sea to seaside and the lighthouse tower was topped by oceanfront hotels and condos, and dwarfed by rollercoasters and water slides.

Although several lighthouses have stood along the edge of the Delaware Bay, East Point is the last one remaining on the Jersey side. The lantern room offers a panoramic view of the surrounding land and water and is a favorite subject of artists. In the spring, you can observe the annual migration of thousands of shore birds, especially in late May when the horseshoe crabs come ashore to lay eggs.

This distinctive lighthouses is on a stretch of the Outer Banks that has witnessed everything from hurricanes to malaria, from pirates to Nazi U-boats. NATIONAL GEOGRAGPHIC staff member Dorothy Nicholson plotted more than 500 Shipwrecks all along the Outer Banks and many happened along the waters of the Bodie Island Lighthouse. As of this writing A massive restoration project is underway for the Bodie Island Lighthouse. The National Park Service discovered significant problems with the support structures under the balcony and The National Park Service is looking for money to help fix the problem.

I hear from people all the time about the lighthouses they love and why. It seems everybody has a lighthouse story.

And, likewise, every lighthouse has a story.

Canyon Reverie

2011-01-10T11:52:00.002-05:00

I had camped overnight in Horse Thief Canyon in the Island in the Sky district of the Canyonlands in Utah. I heard a raven call from a nearby grove of cottonwood trees, his insistent crock, crock echoing off the red sandstone walls. The sun had just risen above the canyon walls, its first light painting the canyon’s sculpted sandstone formations. I pushed the plunger on my cable release and my Hasselblad recorded the moment.

We all find our own form of therapy, photography happens to be mine. There’s something about hiking to your destination and setting up the camera and tripod and waiting for that first light that continues to excite me. It was from this form of “therapy” that I’ve managed to integrate my creative life into my entire life and at this point my photography grows as I grow, whether it's me hiking down a canyon, walking on the beach, writing a blog or shooting in my studio.

I think it's safe to say that too many artists get caught up in the idea of being "creative". The idea that we have to "do" something to access our creativity, or we have to "be" something or "try" to be creative. In my experience however, true creativity is more of a result of "undoing" rather than doing.

We're usually generating so much of our own thoughts, concerns, expectations, desires and judgments that there's literally NO room for divine inspiration. True creativity only comes when a space is created. However, emptying ourselves of all that "extra" stuff that we usually think IS "us", is often challenging and sometimes confronting. Like every other worthwhile pursuit, creating this space takes practice.

In his first book, The Teachings of Don Juan, by Carlos Castaneda, Castaneda and Don Juan have a perfectly wonderful dialog together on the business of ‘not doing’ as opposed to ‘doing.’ Don Juan tells Castaneda that he must learn to ‘not do.’ Castaneda says, how do I not do? Life is doing. Yes, that’s precisely the problem. Everything that you do is based on something you already know. It has already been handed to you. Everybody is doing according to a formula and that’s what keeps it all in place. This is all too obvious. Not doing means that you’re aware that that process exists and you step away from it in order to see clearly. The ability to be free, from that process, even though you are a part of it, enables you to ‘see.’ Then it’s not difficult at all. Then the essence becomes available!

Too old to rock 'n roll, too young too die

2010-12-01T17:24:00.002-05:00

On a Friday night in April of '68 I can still remember the anxious excitement I felt as a teenager sitting about 15 feet from the stack of speakers while awaiting the the first rock concert I had come to see with a bunch of friends. That night Cream performed with such magnificent raw energy latest that I thought I was having a spiritual moment. Hooked, I came back to see Jefferson Airplane, The Who, John Mayall, Jimi Hendrix, Santana, Steppenwolf and The Doors - all bands I saw while in high school. To support my habit I took a camera along.

Grace Slick onstage at The Philadelphia Spectrum and backstage after the concert. Jorma Kaukonen playing "Embryonic Journey"

Rock Photography was easier then, I would by the cheapest tickets available( I saw Hendrix and Led Zepplin for five dollars) and show up with my Nikon ( a camera my father had given me) and a guard would escort me to the stage and allow me time to shoot. Today they confiscate your camera.

The original band members of "The Who"

I would soup the E6 I shot in the basement in the wee hours of the morning, go to bed while it dried and then mount the transparencies in slide holders before I left for school. After school I would hop on a bus to go to the "Evening Bulletin" and sell my shots.

Steppenwolf at the Electric Factory.

John Bonham of Led Zepplin

The Doors at the Roxy in LA

During the late 60’s bands sang of peace and love while acid was passed out and Jim Morrison and The Doors were very much associated with that scene. His Oedipal nightmare of ‘The End’, the doom of ‘Hyacinth House’, the ecstasy of ‘Light My Fire’ invoked his potent passions. The one thing he shared with Jimi Hendrix and so many others was that in the end, his body was too worn down, his heart too weak, he had already seen and done and drunk too much.

If you can just get your mind together

Then come on across to me

We'll hold hands and then we'll watch the sunrise

From the bottom of the sea

Jimi was never part of any movement. Not the peace and love Airplane – Dead – Quicksilver acid rock movement of San Francisco, or the English Invasion nor the folk-rock peerage of the Byrds and Buffalo Springfield. His journey was driven by a unique vision to push the envelope of poetry, spirituality and psycho-sexual exploration in music as far as possible. Seeing Jimi in concert was like putting my mind in a wind tunnel and turning on a blender to make a mind-wind shake. I’d never heard sounds like he made on his guitar. Hendrix sang that he was a voodoo child, and indeed, he created mesmerizing magic when he delved into song.

Back in Philly after a stint in the military and four years of college after that, I get a call asking me to shoot Live Aid at JFK Stadium. The films are better, the asa's higher and I have press credentials!

During their duet on "It's Only Rock 'n' Roll", Mick Jagger ripped away part of Tina Turner's dress, leaving her to finish the song in what was, effectively, a leotard.

When Bob Dylan broke a guitar string, Ronnie Wood took off his own guitar and gave it to Dylan. Wood was left standing on stage guitarless. After shrugging to the audience, he played air guitar, even mimicking The Who's Pete Townshend by swinging his arm in wide circles, until a stagehand brought him a replacement.

Concert after concert, at a non stop pace, rang out as a catalytic galvanizing force for American youth. Transistor radios carried across the vast nation’s airwaves the surreptitiously subversive music of The Byrds, Bob Dylan, and, guess what, the vastly talented and overlooked black performers from Motown and Philadelphia started to capture the public imagination, integrating even the airwaves.

Eric Clapton at The Wachovia

Mott the Hoople's last concert at The Spectrum

I remember the smell of pot, heavy in the air combined with the sweat of 15,000 rock fans, the sounds, deafening all night long. I remember fights breaking out after a concert where John Lennon sang "give peace a chance"and I remember Frank Rizzo, vowing to turn the Electric Factory into a parking lot. I'm sure that todays concerts are just as meaningful to the younger generation but it's kind of sad though, the music today, and I feel sorry for the fans. Sorry that they never got to see Blind Faith!

Capilla de Santa Rita

2010-11-10T19:11:00.001-05:00

I was driving thru Espanola, New Mexico when I stopped for a cup of coffee at a local café. The waitress was friendly and seeing my backpack on the floor next to me, asked me where I was headed. “El Santuario in Chimayo” I replied while looking over my map. “Have you ever heard of Santa Rita Chapel?” she asked. I’m certainly no authority on New Mexico pueblo churches but I did do enough background reading before my trip to know that I never heard of this place. I told the waitress that I never heard of Santa Rita and asked her where it is. “It’s on Route 64, high on a hill top, it’ll be on your left hand side” she said. I was curious, my mother was named after Saint Rita, the patron saint of the impossible, so I finished my coffee and went to look for this chapel. It didn’t take long to find it; it was just like the waitress said, high up on a hill on route 64, just one problem, to gain access I had to enter private property.

I stopped in front of the house that seemed to front the property and knocked on the door. A young man answered the door and I asked him if I could have his permission to visit the chapel. “You want to go next door” he told me, thanking him I walked about 30 yards to the next house and tried again. This time an older woman, trim and gracious, answered the door. She was obliging and gave me her permission and a key to a gate that separated the flat ground behind her house and the start to a very high hill. The climb was quite an experience.

The skies were electric blue and a crystal breeze carried the cool scent of autumn and the smell of pinion pines and sage. As I trudged up the slope out of breath, I crossed my fingers and hoped for a clear view, with the chapel visible in the distance. I was lucky! Finally at the top, I took my time now and allowed myself to rest long enough to shoot without my heart pounding. Red desert rock, golden cottonwoods and white-barked aspens were in the distance. As I contemplated the image on the ground glass, I was thinking about light, filtration, and development, at the same time I was also seeing line, form, and color. I chose to use medium format for my work - the larger image area and the requirement to use a tripod requires a pace that I feel make stronger and more interesting photographs.

After about an hour I felt that I was ready to take a look inside. A front door of rotted wood let me into a tiny room guarded by statues of St. Rita and the Blessed Mother. Among the votive candles and rosaries there was some old newspapers, sitting on the small bench. I sat down and read them. What follows is the story of how the chapel of Santa Rita came to be. Shortly before World War 1, Pedro Fresquez was engaged to a woman in Chimayo. He had to leave her to serve in the infantry in Italy and during a deadly assault he took refuge in a chapel named Santa Rita. He prayed fervently to the patron Saint of the Impossible and promised if he survived he would construct a chapel in Her honor. He survived the war and true to his promise he built the chapel on the hilltop and was married to his fiancée shortly after. He and his family led a good long life protected by Santa Rita, the patron Saint of the Impossible.

Cadillac Ranch

2010-10-30T15:24:00.009-04:00

Standing along Route 66 west of Amarillo, Texas, Cadillac Ranch was invented and built by a group of art-hippies imported from San Francisco. They called themselves The Ant Farm, and their silent partner was Amarillo billionaire Stanley Marsh 3. He wanted a piece of public art that would baffle the locals, and the hippies came up with a tribute to the evolution of the Cadillac tail fin. Ten Caddies were buried, nose-down, in the dirt, supposedly at the same angle as the Great Pyramid of Giza. They faced west in a line, from the 1949 Club Sedan to the 1963 Sedan de Ville, their tail fins held high for all to see on the empty Texas panhandle.

That was in 1974. People would stop along the highway, walk out to view the cars -- then deface them or rip off pieces as souvenirs. Stanley Marsh 3 and The Ant Farm were tolerant of this public deconstruction of their art -- although it doomed the tail fins -- and eventually came to encourage it.
Decades have passed. The Cadillacs have now been in the ground as art longer than they were on the road as cars. They are stripped to their battered frames, splattered in day-glo paint splooge, barely recognizable as automobiles. Yet standing in front of the cars you can’t deny that this is art in one form or another. It is a feat in itself to bury one car like this up to its windshield at such a weird angle. But to put down ten in a row at precisely the same angle is impressive and shows that the artist put a lot of time and effort into it. The piece is also something of a satirical comment on modern day consumer and automotive society. These cars are not cheap and burying ten of them like this sends a pretty strong message about how our society is built around disposable items and how the automobile for all its usefulness is reduced to a massive hunk of steel and rubber once it’s rendered useless. Today, Cadillac Ranch is more popular than ever. It's become a ritual site for those who travel The Mother Road. The smell of spray paint hits you from a hundred yards away; the sound of voices chattering in French, German, and UK English makes this place all the more interesting. I was here just after a downpour, and yet a steady procession of acolytes trudged through the ankle-deep mud to make their oblations. Many were barefoot, cheerfully slogging through the muck of livestock droppings and spray can trash, happy to be there.

Tourists are always welcome at Cadillac Ranch. If you bring spray paint, make sure to also bring a camera. Because whatever you create at Cadillac Ranch will probably only last a few hours before it's created over by someone else.

Philadelphia

2010-10-01T15:52:00.000-04:00

I grew up in Philadelphia and have spent years photographing the areas monuments and buildings as well as overlooked and unexpected places. This part of the state has evidence of a richness and grace that separates it from other cities and rewards even the casual viewer with a blending of history and architecture.

The Swann Memorial Fountain was designed by sculptor Alexander Calder and was completed in 1924 as the centerpiece of Logan Square and the Parkway. Logan Circle is surrounded by a number of important institutions: the Franklin Institute, the Free Library of Philadelphia, the Academy of Natural Science, Moore College of Art and the Cathedral of Saints Peter and Paul.

Located on the banks of the Schuylkill River near the Philadelphia Museum of Art, the Fairmount Water Works was once the sole source of the City of Philadelphia’s water. Almost from the day the waterwheels began turning, its classic Greek and Roman architecture and cutting-edge engineering made it an international 19th century tourist attraction renowned for melding nature and technology. A technological wonder in its time, the Water Works began operation in 1815 and soon attracted international visitors. During the greater part of the 19th century, it was the second most popular tourist site in the United States after Niagara Falls.

Boathouse Row is home to Philadelphia’s rowing community, and is a leading epicenter of the nation’s championship aspirations for the sport. The boathouses are also home away from home for more high school competitors than any other U.S. city and a foundation for the nation’s first and largest community of master’s athletes. Each year, Philadelphia hosts nearly twice as many regattas as the closest competitor city Boston.

If you would like to see full size versions of these and others from my “Philadelphia Area” portfolio please contact me at:

jaeimages@gmail.com

 Or call me at (610) 998-9505

Why Black and White Photography?

2010-09-02T14:25:00.002-04:00

Black and white photography has enjoyed a richly-deserved renaissance in recent years, and it allows us to look at the subject matter in a more direct and elemental manner. In fact, some people believe that black and white adds credibility by offering a less commercial point of view than color photography.

Quality black and white photography is a true art, given the high degree of subjective judgment involved with the process. However, it need not be a lost art, particularly if photographers and their clients are clearly communicating their expectation and work together.

Every good print begins with a quality photograph and no amount of fine-tuning in photoshop can compensate for a poor photo. A professional photographer experienced in his craft has planned each shot by determining lighting, composition and film selection (although digital far outpaces film today it doesn’t mean film is any less viable)

The final outcome of the work hinges on a diverse combination of factors starting with a superior photograph; making a quality image of the proper size and determining the best conversion to final output, to name a few. Below are a few of my recent assignments where black and white photography was a request.

If you know anyone who is looking for fine black and white photography please feel free to share this link.

Thanks,

Jams Evangelista

In The Loupe

2010-08-08T17:13:00.003-04:00

San Geronimo Church at Taos

In the studio, we can arrange things just the way we want.

On location, we can’t. What we can control is perspective.

Here the image is almost perfectly symmetrical.

And the cross becomes a strong focal point. Through composition we have a chance to direct the viewer’s eye where you want it. And that is a powerful advantage in an ad. Or a brochure. Or any other form of persuasive conversation.

My advertising, corporate and editorial assignments have taken me across the nation and I continue to offer my clients a range of style and technique along with consistent high quality photography and fast client-centered services.

Jim Evangelista Photography

121 Trinity Drive Oxford, Pa 19363

Tel. # (610) 998-9505

False Kiva

2010-07-12T20:51:00.001-04:00

The ride into Moab was beautiful, I had rented a high clearance, 4 wheel drive for the journey. A red sunset painted the mountains and increased my excitement, which already was in overdrive. I was heading into Anasazi country, to hike into canyons looking for the remnant ruins of Ancient Pueblo generations who somehow thrived in this seemingly desolate country. The sacredness of the Anasazi lies in their kivas, temples lying beneath the floors of their homes. Kivas were places of gathering, and served many purposes: spiritual ceremonies, school, workshop, and family communion. The walls of the kiva were decorated with pictographs and petroglyphs, the precise meanings of which are unknown. Their homes were organically built into magnificent rock walls, with beautiful views and easily defensible positions located above any potential attackers. Gravity was strategically on their side when it came to enemies, though that also made daily chores, hunting, and farming a difficult trudge up and down rock strewn canyons.

The homes literally blended with the surroundings, made of the same rocks as the expansive canyon walls they were nestled into, using the surrounding dirt as wet mortar for insulation and protection from the elements, insects, and small animals. It's a testament to both the homes and the environment that thousand-year-old homes and petroglyphs remained in place, with pottery shards, hand-spun string, and discarded corn cobs still present at some sites.

False Kiva, pictured here, is hidden under a vast alcove at the edge of Island of the Sky, and there are no maps to the spot. The trailhead is found along the road out to the Upheaval Dome. It's steep and rocky and a bit treacherous due to the loose stones underfoot. After a three hour hike in one hundred degree temps, a small sun-filled alcove appeared in the amphitheater walls, though I never would have known there was an Anasazi ruin in there if I didn't have a destination in mind already. Criss-crossing the boulder-strewn base of the cliffs, I hiked steeply up to the alcove. Once there, the foundation of a round kiva overlooked the vast canyonlands and buttes beyond.

Debate rages on whether to disclose the exact location of False Kiva as it enjoys a semi-protected status and it does not appear on official maps of the park. Because of the remoteness of the location, the site itself is not protected from vandalism of any kind. The exact coordinates for False Kiva are occasionally divulged on forums, but GPS users should be aware that these GPS coordinates can place hikers 500 feet directly above False Kiva which would then require the hiker to repel down the steep vertical walls of the mountain.

2010-06-13T18:49:00.000-04:00

Photography has always been magic for me. The shutter clicks, and some unseeable change occurs on a silver coated emulsion. Nothing seems to have happened. The weight of the film does not increase with the burden of the light it carries. It is a secret, to be revealed by the spirits in the darkroom. Later.

Although I still shoot film on occasion (with the same Hasselblad I purchased in the early eighties) most of my photography today is shot with a digital camera.

One reason is the instant collaboration that comes from shooting digitally. Much like a painter who views his work while working, the digital sensor gives the photographer the means to “view his canvas” in the moment. I know a lot of hard core old school guys, like myself, attest to visualization as well as the whole school of ‘previsualization’ who will take umbrage with my statement, but with all due respect, having been on both sides of the fence, in my humble opinion there has never been a better time to be a photographer, the shutter still clicks and today the fact that the image is recorded on a digital sensor instead of a silver, halide coated piece of film doesn’t diminish the magic.

Penitente morada, Abiquiu. NM

2010-05-01T19:36:00.000-04:00

Three crosses stand silhouetted against the sky on a cliff in the village of Abiquiu, New Mexico. Nestled on the ridge of the cliff stands a small adobe building that appears to be a chapel. The Morada is a meeting place of the Brothers of Light, known as the Penitentes. Built, by best estimations, in the late 1700's, it is a symbol of both spiritual independence and spiritual conformity. The Hermanos Penitentes — Brotherhood of the Penitent — were once comprised, in part, by some of the lowest strata of their society, former Native American slaves called "genizaros."

The Brothers' pious observances are centered around the Passion of Jesus and the spirit of penance.. Many Brotherhood rites formerly involved expressions of a penitential spirit through self-flagellation, cross bearing, and other forms of mortification. Sometimes, in the past, a Brother was tied to a large cross during a short simulation of the Crucifixion on Good Friday. Unfortunately, these practices attracted undue attention from uncomprehending outsiders, and the Brothers were forced to alter their devotional patterns, becoming more secretive in order to protect their right to worship according to tradition.

If you choose to seek out this place of prayer be sure to observe all No Parking and No Trespassing signs: the residents of Abiquiú are very protective of their village.

Why I Photograph

2010-01-31T10:09:00.001-05:00

A family of four generations from the Tiwa Pueblo

Photographers are often asked why they do what they do. Often by themselves, as they sit wondering why they didn't become corporate lawyers or baseball players or race car drivers. I can't speak for my colleagues, but as far as I am concerned, I photograph because I really have no other choice. This is what I do. This is what I am.

I am in the business of storytelling. I always have been, always will be. It is what I've been doing since I was a kid. Telling stories, bringing life to characters, devising plots, visualizing scenes and staging sequences of events, images that tell a story. All in exchange for a penny, a smile or a tear, and a little of your time and attention.

I photograph for a living. I’ve been shooting to make ends meet since I left school. It is my way of surviving, of earning a living and of navigating this world. It is my way of bringing something to the table, contributing what I believe is the best thing I have to offer for others to enjoy.

I have shot for major corporations and backyard graduation parties, for advertising agencies, medical establishments and architects. Richard Avedon said “And if a day goes by without my doing something related to photography, it's as though I've neglected something essential to my existence, as though I had forgotten to wake up. I know that the accident of my being a photographer has made my life possible.” I couldn't agree more.

As I said, I am in the business of storytelling. This is an art, a craft and a business, and I thank the Gods of Light for that. I believe that when you look at something I've shot and pay for it, both in terms of your money and something much more valuable, your time, you are entitled to get the best I can produce. This is not a hobby, it is a profession.

I am happy I survived in this business, and I am happy we met along the way. I plan to keep on doing this until they shoot me down (pun intended). Till then, I'm always working on something new.

The Tetons

2009-11-07T16:08:00.000-05:00

The Teton Mountains form the western edge of the world-famous Jackson Hole, a broad valley floor rimmed by the Washakie Range to the north and east and the Gros Ventre and Wyoming ranges to the south and east.

It is generally believed that no white man set foot in Teton County prior to 1800. The valley we know today as Jackson Hole was once the summer hunting ground of the Blackfoot, Crow, and Arapahoe Indians, and a hideaway for men escaping from the law.

In this photograph the first light of an early autumn morning spreads down the face of the Tetons, gently bringing the natural world to life. Snow from the night before cloaks the entire Teton range in a fresh blanket of white while the sound of chickadees and meadowlarks fill the air. Nearby, elk, bison, coyotes, and bears are often seen along the lakes’ edge, feeding on whatever is available as the day breaks. The granite peaks of the Tetons remain snow-covered throughout most of the year and may often melt around late July.

What you don't want to see when you're four miles from the trailhead

2009-10-14T19:10:00.002-04:00

Karen & I arrived in Jackson Hole last week excited at the prospect of hiking up the Cascade Canyon trail. The canyon is situated between Grand Teton which is 13,770 feet high to the south and several peaks over 11,000 feet to the north. Steep cliffs descending from these peaks ensure that the highpoints to the north and south are not visible until one hikes considerable distance into the canyon. Of course spotting bear paws four miles into it tempered our excitement with no small degree of apprehension. After about another mile though we were fortunate to see the bear had gone south towards Jenny Lake and we pressed on - due north!

As the trail wraps around the base of Rockchuck Peak and enters Paintbrush Canyon we hiked past alpine lakes and fields with stunning views of the jagged Tetons. At roughly 10,720 feet we meandered through lodgepole pine and impressive rock walls with awesome views of Jenny and String lakes below us.

We were taking a much needed rest and while eating some of the trail mix we purchased at Dornans, I looked up to survey the world in front of us only to discover we were being scrutinized by this fellow not more than 20 yards away.

It was 17 degrees, we were tired, our feet were cold and I was wishing I didn't have that second snifter of Drambuie the night before, but if you look closely at this last photograph you'll see the visual reference of the word 'happy'.

Eagle o'er the Tetons

2009-08-09T09:09:00.001-04:00

The Eagle is a messenger to the Creator. When the earth was created, a great thundercloud appeared on the horizon. Flashing lightning and thundering it's call, it descended toward the treetops. As the mists cleared, there was an eagle perched on the highest tree on the mountain. He took flight and flew slowly down to the ground. As he approached the earth, he put forward his foot, and as he stepped upon the ground, he became a man.

Shoshone Indian legend

In January of 2000 my thoughts were what better way to ring in the new century than to spend a couple of weeks in the Grand Tetons. I needed to feel the grandeur, and breathe the atmosphere of this special place and I can still remember the anxious excitement and expectant anticipation I felt as I went hiking up to get the right perspective on the Snake River overlook. The higher I went up the trail the more stunning the view became and the sweeter the air smelled. Once I was in position I wanted to enjoy taking my time while setting up my tripod and camera, but while I was taking my meter readings I noticed the cloud passing over the mountain range. No time to think, hardly time to meter, this photograph was composed in seconds and I got five shots off before the cloud dissipated leaving me in wonder and awe. For a few timeless seconds I like to think I witnessed something inspired by a higher power.

THE ROAD TO POINT SUBLIME

2009-07-25T09:35:00.001-04:00

August/09

So, how rough is the road to Point Sublime? When we picked up our rental, an off road, four-wheel drive, high clearance jeep, I was hoping this vehicle was up to the backcountry expedition we were about to undertake. The road is mainly just a dirt path that travels through the Kaibab Forest, desert areas, canyon cliffs and sublime meadows. In some places it is a double track deep in the earth. In other places it is just a small trail cutting thru the forest. Some of the hills are riddled with deep ruts that must be carefully negotiated. These roads are very narrow in places and most of the time scrub brush and pinion pines were scraping the sides of our jeep. The final section of road passes through a portion of the forest that is layered with tiny lavender flowers. Finally, standing here overlooking the sheer beauty of what has to be one of the most fantastic views on earth, is where I struggle: there are no words to describe the view that greets you at the rim. Everywhere you look are the most majestic views - each one more amazing than the last. It truly makes me feel that my life is just a pinpoint on a very long timeline.

The Revolution starts...NOW!

2009-07-25T09:12:00.000-04:00

July/09

If 1967 gave us the 'Summer of Love', 1968 brought the confrontations in Chicago and the assassinations of Kennedy and King. By ‘69 things were starting to feel very dangerous. If the Revolution was going to happen it wasn't going to be without a little violence. The status quo was not about to give up without a fight. Volunteers is the rock album for The Revolution That Never Was. In many ways it's as relevant today as it was 40 years ago. That Revolution may not have succeeded, but Grace Slick (pictured here in a photograph I took of her in 1969) and the Jefferson Airplane certainly did. Of all their albums, 'Volunteers' political stance overshadows the rest of their albums and one of those songs "We Can Be Together” contains a lyric that's eerily as relevant today as it was then.

"All your private property is target for your enemy.. And your enemy is greed."

If that isn't a warning for Conservative America, then I don't know what is.

This album is an unrecognized timeless masterpiece that I still get the chills playing, preferably as loud as possible.

Memorial Day

2009-07-25T09:05:00.000-04:00

May/09

To help remind Americans of the true meaning of Memorial Day, the "National Moment of Remembrance" resolution was passed on Dec 2000. This resolution asks that all Americans " Voluntarily and informally observe in their own way a Moment of remembrance and respect, pausing from whatever they are doing for a moment of silence to commemorate the members of the United States armed forces who were killed in war”

Resurrection

2009-07-25T08:58:00.000-04:00

April/09

Since Christ rose from the dead, the power of love has been stronger than that of hatred. This is the certainty of the Church and is the reason for its joy which, during the night of the Easter vigil, is manifested in the singing off the Exultet. This is the third symbol of the "vigil of all vigils," together with the fire and water, and all of them are "manifested" in the resurrection. This photograph, taken at sunrise on New Years Day, symbolizes the lighting of the new fire and the living water.

The fine balance between the craft and the art.

2009-07-25T08:49:00.001-04:00

March/09

Due to the overwhelming popularity of today’s digital cameras, the film industry, while not dead, is certainly near death. And why not? Today’s digital cameras have so many advantages over film cameras it’s not even a close race anymore. Despite all the pluses there are issues that makes an old analog guy like me hold on to the past, and that is the short lifespan of a digital camera and the need to rely on software and battery powered automation. Even though the costs for a prosumer camera has come down significantly, a current 12 mega pixel DSLR cost between $2500.00 & $5000.00 for the body (no lens) and will be obsolete in two to three years.

Pictured here is a camera manufactured in 1971 which I purchased used in 1984 and I continue to use today. In this age of more bells and more whistles, my Hasselblad SWC has no batteries, no meter and no automation. What it does have is a body made in Sweden and a matched Carl Zeiss Biogon lens and it is this camera that I used for the majority of my architectural work when the assignment called for interiors (see photograph of the Guggenheim below) and for the landscape photography I do today.

It’s the lack of software features and other gadgets that forces the user to think more about vision and less about a process that is arrived at externally.

With today’s’ software driven cameras, too many people are doing something according to a formula and become preoccupied with the technical process. This is all too obvious. A true photographer understands the fine balance between the craft and the art and that is when the essence of vision becomes available.