For the tired and lonely,
Those without their one and only:
When, in the darkest night,
You hunger for one to make it all right.
When you hope with everything in you
That you’ll find something true
And you begin to wonder what the world is made of
Remember, there is love.
1 John 4:16
Chapter One – The Arrival
The brown wrapping was speckled with dark spots due to the intermittent rain that had fallen throughout the day. When I arrived home the day the package showed up on my doorstep my arms were full of all the worries and concerns of my clients, neatly organized into folders bound together with giant rubber bands. The package just sat there and stared smugly at me, taunting me to pick it up and lose my purchase on my files. I didn’t take the bait. I reached into my pocket and fished out my keys. As I was turning the key on the small brass doorknob, I glanced down at the package suspiciously and wondered who had sent it.
When I finally got into the house, the rain started to come down a bit stronger and I threw my files onto the kitchen counter. I turned back to the front door and took the two short strides necessary to be outside. I scooped up the package and ran out the mailbox by the street to collect the day’s post. I gathered the mail into my free hand and ran quickly back inside before the rain could penetrate my thin overcoat. I didn’t realize it until I was standing in front of the counter littered with junk mail but the package virtually had no weight to it at all. It was the strangest thing. The box itself felt nearly weightless and it made no noise when I curiously shook it next to my ear.
I sat the box down and rifled through the mail. It was mostly bills as I remember. That was typical at that time in my life. I had been financially irresponsible for years and was literally paying for it. I knew that the five new messages on my answering machine were from bill collectors and various lenders whom I had neglected for far too long. I guess I never really took things seriously, or seriously enough anyway. I figured I’d make it on my good looks and charm… or my parents who had bankrolled my entire existence up until a few years before. Boy, was I wrong. Life had thrown me a curve or two and I had never seen anything but a fastball until I was twenty. That’s when the money ran out, the parents moved from my childhood home, I had to get a job, and I met the girl that would serve as the proverbial straw that breaks the camel’s back. I’ll get to her a little later.
I’d had a long day and just wanted to crash into my bed which always seemed softest when I first got home. Strange phenomenon, I know. My better judgement, what little I had, told me that if I went to bed right away, I’d be up at four o’clock in the morning surfing Food Network until sunrise. I decided to check the fridge instead of napping.
Opening the door to the refrigerator when I was a kid was like going to a grocery store where everything was free. It was chocked full of goodies that mom had bought for my sisters and me. Cookies, cakes, fruit boxes, those great leftovers that only mom knew how to make lined the shelves and invited me to devour them. Now that it was my fridge, the experience wasn’t quite the same. Lunchmeat, steak sauce, milk (three days over the sell-by date), and a two gallon jar of pickles were all that stared back at me from within the food igloo. Unsatisfied with my limited options, I popped open the freezer and was equally disappointed with the available fare. A badly freezer burnt chicken potpie I had bought several months ago was the closest thing to appealing, but not quite appealing enough. I took a small step to my right and flung open the cabinet that could have been bare enough to qualify for an Old Mother Hubbard competition. By this time, I realized that I wasn’t that hungry anyway and gave up on the idea of eating.
I closed the cabinet, turned around and rested against the counter. I surveyed the postal battlefield that was my breakfast bar. The mangled corpses of bills and junk mail were strewn along with the frighteningly thick and unopened bills from dreaded creditors. In the middle of the fray was the non-descript brown package that I’d nearly forgotten about during my attempt at urban foraging. I lifted myself off the counter and stepped up to the breakfast bar and picked up the lightweight parcel. The wrapping paper was dry by now and I identified it as a shopping bag that someone had cut up and taped to the box. I was again struck by how it felt virtually empty. I noticed something I hadn’t before about the package. It had no identifying marks on it at all. It wasn’t addressed to me. It had no return address. It had only a faintly smudged postmark on it from an undecipherable locale. When I took a moment to ponder the situation, I became a bit unnerved. What if this package had been some sort of bomb? What if I had picked up my death? What if it was someone’s ill-advised attempt to achieve fame at the expense of my life?
I set the package back on the counter and took a small step away. I kept an eye on it just in case it started to smoke or tick or vibrate or whatever these new bombs do. After a few moments of weighing the gravity of what might have just happened. I let out a nervous chuckle and let myself relax. I then tuned my brain to the fact that this may not be my package. It wasn’t addressed to me after all. Maybe these were important documents that belonged to one of my equally important neighbors. Maybe it was the dying note to a lover, from a lover, talking about their love. Maybe I was in the possession of the most valuable diamond packed tightly in bubble wrap and foam peanuts. I didn’t know what I had or to whom who it belonged. My imagination swam for a few minutes about what treasure I might have in my hands. Curiosity started to get the better of me and I fixed my hand under the taped flap on the side of the package with the full intent of tearing it opened. In retrospect, I wish that the ringing of my phone hadn’t interrupted me. If I’d tore into the box right then, perhaps I wouldn’t be in the mess that I’m in right now.
Friends,
It won't be long before you're going to start seeing some new writings, stories, memories, and poetry here on the page. You'll see posts about photography, music, history, and most importantly, the Ozarks. Stay tuned. Big things are about to happen.
Whether it's a wedding, a reunion, a birthday party, or some other event, it's important as the photographer to know what story you're trying to tell. There are likely to be a lot of people at the event and most of them will probably have some kind of camera. They'll be snapping away, taking snapshots of the event from their perspective, usually with a cell phone camera. What sets you apart? Well, for one, knowing the story helps you to capture the moments of those events. Make sure to take photos of the setting, the venue, the details that surround you. Are there unique place settings? If so, snap a few so you can show off the decorations. Is someone telling a joke, wait for the reaction and get a group laughing together. Your photo can't tell the joke but it can tell the story of the fun that was had. Make sure to anticipate the moments too. Find your spots to shoot and be ready when the time comes. If someone is blowing out the candles, have a vision for the shot you want, make sure your gear is ready, position yourself and snap away at the right time. Also, BE MOVING when you're shooting events. You can't ask everyone else to move so you can get your perfect shot, be willing to circle around or reposition yourself many times to capture the best moments.Most of all, keep in mind that you're taking pictures to tell a story with a beginning, a middle, and an end. Make sure you capture the images that you need to tell it. Happy snapping!
When it's cloudy out, you might think that the light isn't good for photography. Take a moment to look at some landscape photography though. Notice anything? My guess is that almost all of the photos you see have beautiful skies. What's in those skies? CLOUDS! Vast, beautiful clouds. After a good rain (or even during) the clouds provide two important things. 1. Diffusion of light. Clouds act like a huge diffuser spreading light evenly over your subject. Particularly on overcast days, you'll have soft shadows and wonderful pictures as long as you are careful to get the right exposure. And, 2. Awesome visual interest in what would otherwise be a pretty boring blue sky. Don't be afraid of cloudy days. Grab your camera and enjoy God's photographic gifts. Happy snapping!
When the weather is cold and the sky keeps dropping rain on you, you might consider packing up your gear and waiting for the sun to shine. Keeping your gear dry is as simple as a trip to the camera store and picking up a rain cover or rain sleeve. Several companies offer similar items and they can be picked up for under ten bucks. Don't let the rain stop you from capturing your world. Some really fun and interesting portraits can be taken in the rain so don't let a little water scare you off. Happy snapping!
Photography has always been a passion of mine since the first Polaroid I took to the most recent RAW image I edited. In this blog we will be discussing some of the basics of photography and maybe even some advanced topics. For now, let's just get acquainted. Leave a comment below about what you'd like to know about photography and let's start a conversation. Happy Snapping!