More hello. Nice title. This is why, as a writer, I usually try to come up with a title for an article after I’ve written part of it. What I really want to talk about is my photo class, but I also thought that I should somehow work in a bit of background on why I’m doing this blog, and what I think someone might gain by reading it. So, pulled in eight directions at once, I decided to inspire myself with the most insipid story title in history. More hello. Ah well. Having built my box, I will now attempt to design something that will fit inside it.
I’m taking a photo class, you see. If I had the foresight to know that I’d want to blog about it say…a month ago, I could have fired up this site and regaled you with grand stories about my adventures during the first three weeks of my class. Instead, I begin my tale in medias res, during Week 4. You and I will both just have to go on with our lives pretending that nothing of any import happened during the first few weeks. In a year, you’ll be swept up in the storyline and have forgotten all about the fact that you missed the introductory episodes, at least until you access the bonus materials on the DVD.
Ahem. My photo class. Digital 1, they call it, and I’ll let you decide what the name means. Our assignment this week, should we have chosen to accept it, was to experiment with depth of field. We had to shoot a set photos that showed our subject in his/her/its environment, as well as a set that used depth of field to separate the subject from the environment.
Depth of field is something that I’ve played with for years. Some of the first photos of my own I ever liked used depth of field techniques to highlight plants in the Forest Preserves. Digital cameras make things ever so much easier, of course, so I celebrated the assignment by taking some of my worst photos ever.
It was hardly my fault. That’s not entirely true. It was entirely my fault. My current schedule consists of work, sleep, and photography class. I have little time for the aikido class I haven’t given up on, nor the band I continue to play in, nor the various side jobs that keep me from eating mac and cheese every night.
The long and short of it is I didn’t get the chance to wander my neighborhood in search of photogenic torn-down laundromats, as one of my classmates did. I didn’t have the opportunity to take pictures of tractors, friends, rows of cakes arranged on a table, or an adorable little dog. What I did have time for was dragging my old Minolta into the back yard where I could photograph it in front of some weeds. I also had time to stand my bicycle against the neighbor’s house. And a few close-ups of the weeds just for good measure. Two hours before lab tonight.
Great art, it ain’t.
But what challenge is there in trying to print an interesting photo? How much more can I learn from trying to get just the right contrast out of a bike seat against a brick wall? To draw the viewer in; to provide him with some profound and radical understanding of his place in civilization; to make sure I didn’t overexpose the sunny wall of the garage in the background. These are the things that matter. These are the things I achieved today. One out of three, anyway. Almost.