Yesterday evening, my youngest daughter and I took a little photowalk around the neighborhood. Daylight was beginning to fade. The slush in the streets slowly starting to freeze. My daughter explaining the rule of thirds to me and somehow claiming the Leica as her own.
As I've mentioned in the past, I've become very intrigued with controlling and sculpting light.
I've never been one to share what I would consider incomplete work but I'm going to go out on a limb. It's a process. Both educational and creative. Part of the process is sharing.
It’s hot. The heat is oppressive. The wind is blowing but it isn’t refreshing. Stiff and dry. The landscape is ancient. Rocky. Dusty. Barren. Like another planet. Mars but brown, not red. Still, I love it here.
I came across two more shows on Netflix last night that are well worth the watch. The first one was a bit of a heavy hitter so we'll start there.
This past weekend was Classical Ballet of Colorado's performance of The Nutcracker. I've had the honor of photographing this show for the past few years and the level of talent never ceases to amaze me.
Found another photography documentary on Netflix last night, Everybody Street.
Last night, I came across a documentary on Netflix, Monk with a Camera.
Just over a week ago, I spent some time working with Kim.
I never thought I would actually use it. Held out for years but, I finally gave in a few weeks ago and I'm kind of getting hooked on the tool.
I'm on the 17th floor. Outside the sun has set.
Every year, our neighborhood goes above and beyond. It's pretty awesome.
The Denver Art Museum is a super funky building. In some aspects, it reminds of the Disney Concert Hall in L.A. but with more angles. Not as swoopy. It’s definitely recognizable.
Can. Not. Wait.
Piper and I had a few hours to ourselves this morning so we decided to go have a little adventure. We got everyone dropped off at the ballet studio and the Art Students League then we hightailed it to the foothills.
I fly a lot. A lot. The more I fly, the more I have become interested in the people I see in the airport. Why are they traveling? Where are they headed? Which group do they belong to?
Outside, the neighborhood is dark and quiet. Inside, my wife and daughters are deep asleep buried underneath a crazed mishmash of blankets. The sun isn’t due to rise for another hour. There’s a swell coming.
Lately, I've found myself pushing my photographic envelope. Looking for a way out of the proverbial creative rut that so many of us find ourselves mired in from time to time.