Latest work: "Vintage Postcard"

My office contains nothing but this computer, a printer, a scanner, desk space, file cabinets, a couple of bookcases, a chair and an ottoman. No files. No PCs of various vintages scattered about. No books on the bookshelves. No stacks of papers "to be filed." Nothing.

And I love it!

I've been reluctant to bring anything else in here because I'm enjoying the spareness. The lack of distractions. Every morning I come in, fire up the Mac, look at my "works in progress" file to see if there's any inspiration there, and then begin playing around with photos.

My goal for this winter (when it might be cold and rainy -- but NOT as rainy as the Oregon coast will be) is to methodically go through all my slides, just a few slide sheets every day, and scan those that I think I can work with now, using new techniques, or that have sentimental value. All the rest will be trashed. Finally. I've not looked at my slides in 10 years or so, so this will be quite interesting. Or depressing. Who knows?

These two images are the same. The top one is simply an extract from the bottom one, but I think both work well. And both were submitted to Fine Art America a couple of days ago.

While in Savannah, Georgia in January I photographed a lot of wall textures and then combined some with a photo I took last week in Port Townsend of sidewalk detail. To that I added a photo of the cover of an antique Japanese ledger I got in San Diego, pages from a Japanese dictionary, Japanese calligraphy from a variety of papers I have, and then included a vintage image of an oriole. I "tricked out" the oriole using a paint program before adding it to the mix.

People ask how I make these photomontages, and the previous paragraph pretty much describes the process. I take weird pictures. I rummage around in my files, pick out a few, begin combining them, and let THEM dictate what the next step will be. I never know what will result. It's always a surprise. And that is precisely what I love about what I do: no plan, no routine, no "recipe." It is simply play, intuition, and problem-solving.

If I knew what I was going to make, there'd be no point in making it. For me. Thank God I'm not a plastic surgeon!

©Carol Leigh
 All text, photographs, and other media are ©Copyright Carol Leigh (or others when indicated) and are not in the public domain and may not be used on websites, blogs, or in other media without advance permission from Carol Leigh. Thank you!

If you can't hear me . . .

. . . please raise your hand!

As we're (endlessly) unpacking, we're placing things anywhere, just to get a box emptied and then out of the room. These two glove molds ended up just sitting on the Holly Cabinet, no home for them yet, and I liked the sort of stark look they had against the wall.

What? You think glove molds are weird? Not appropriate for home decor? Yeah, you're probably right . . . But I just love them! 

A few photos later and it was then back to unpacking. The glove molds? Sitting in a closet for now, waiting for just the right spot in the house.

iPhone 6+ and Snapseed.

  ©Carol Leigh
 All text, photographs, and other media are ©Copyright Carol Leigh (or others when indicated) and are not in the public domain and may not be used on websites, blogs, or in other media without advance permission from Carol Leigh. Thank you!

Creating a series of pictures (2 of 3)

In a previous post I began talking about creating series of photos, especially if you sell your work. And for all of you who attended my "Shooting & Selling" classes, this is what I was emphasizing way back then -- that it's often easier to sell a series of decent photos depicting the life cycle of a monarch butterfly, say, than to sell one exquisite shot of a monarch butterfly.

It's wonderful when one brilliant photo can tell a story, isn't it? It's what we dream of. But how often does that happen? Probably not as often as we wish. So here's where creating a series (whether intentionally or not) can really work for you. As an example:

Until last month we lived on the Oregon coast, and one of my delights was to wander around the fishing boats photographing colorful buoys and piles of nets. We were there 13 years, and I never tired of it. The result is that I have a lot of photos of buoys and nets. I didn't think of creating a series of shots; I was just shooting what I loved.

I uploaded a fair number to Fine Art America, not knowing if there was anyone as weird as I who would appreciate these pictures. But yes (hooray), I've sold a lot.

Whenever FAA sells one of my photos, I get an email announcement on my cellphone letting me know. And no matter how many pictures I sell, I love hearing that little "ding" and seeing that another sale just came through.

A week or so ago I heard my cellphone ding. And then ding again. And again. And again. Seven quick dings in a row. I figured something was wrong. Checked to see. Nope, something was very right. Seven announcements in a row from Fine Art America letting me know that someone in New York had just purchased the pictures you see here.

Now how cool is that? If I had just uploaded one buoy shot to FAA, or one shot of fishing nets, maybe I would have made a sale. But because I had a lot to choose from, a series of shots, someone was encouraged to purchase more than just one.

Bottom line? If you're marketing your work, yes, go for the one brilliant shot that tells a story, but as you're doing that, be sure you create a lot of photos that, when seen together, tell another kind of story, or might look great scattered about a restaurant, or as a gallery in someone's living room. Follow your creative dream, but be smart about the marketing end as well.

©Carol Leigh
 All text, photographs, and other media are ©Copyright Carol Leigh (or others when indicated) and are not in the public domain and may not be used on websites, blogs, or in other media without advance permission from Carol Leigh. Thank you!

Nobody here but us wabbits!

Chris: "Carol, come quick! Look!"

Abby has jumped up onto what we call the "Holly Cabinet" and is sitting in front of a tall, carved, wooden folk art rabbit.

I grabbed the cellphone and took a couple of shots before she jumped down.

What's interesting is that when she was born, the people who had her called her "Bunny" because of the way she hopped around the house. A cat, apparently, never forgets her roots!

 ©Carol Leigh
 All text, photographs, and other media are ©Copyright Carol Leigh (or others when indicated) and are not in the public domain and may not be used on websites, blogs, or in other media without advance permission from Carol Leigh. Thank you!

Small pleasures . . .

This is the first time in 13 years that we haven't had to tie down the BBQ so the wind wouldn't blow it off the deck!

Creating a series of pictures (1 of 3)

I'm not overly good at this yet, but I definitely see the advantages of creating a series of images, pictures that are different from one another, yet "go" with each other.

The value here is that, if you sell your work, you make it easier for a buyer to purchase more than one of your images. They can buy a series of pictures for their wall.

Selling one image is great. Selling a set or a series of images can make you giddy.

Let me show you three different examples. And I'll do it in three separate posts because there will be lots of photos.

The first photo you see here is what I started with. I used pictures of rust and handpainted circles to create this, an image I call "Parallel Universes."

Okay. Looks good. But what if it were square? So I cropped the image to create the same thing in a square format instead of a rectangular horizontal format. Now a buyer has a format choice. Same picture, two different formats.

I then changed the blending mode to create a lighter-colored version of my original picture. And again, I then cropped it to make a square.

Four pictures, slightly different.

What next? Well, I rotated one of the layers and created the image you see in the fifth picture. A change in blending modes and I created the sixth and seventh images.

If I wanted to, I could also make diptychs and triptychs of these pictures. But at this point I was tired of these and wanted to move on to something new. If I were smart, I would create those diptychs and triptychs. Maybe some rainy day I will . . .

But look what I've done. I've created seven different images, all incorporating the same colors, the same compositional elements, so that if a person wanted, let's say, throw pillows for a couch, but doesn't want them all the same, here are some options for them. Or maybe they might want two rectangular and one square photo for a wall grouping. I've offered them that.

Have these sold at Fine Art America? No, not yet. But they've only been up a couple of weeks. When they do sell, I'll be sure to mention it here. (Now watch. Someone will buy just one, thereby shooting my whole "offer a series" suggestion out of the sky!)

I've got two more examples to show you, series that did sell at Fine Art America. Stay tuned.

©Carol Leigh
 All text, photographs, and other media are ©Copyright Carol Leigh (or others when indicated) and are not in the public domain and may not be used on websites, blogs, or in other media without advance permission from Carol Leigh. Thank you!

As I grow older . . .

"When I was young, I used to admire intelligent people; as I grow older, I admire kind people."
-- Abraham Joshua Heschel, Polish-born American rabbi and philosopher

Hearts on a brick wall in Port Townsend, Washington.

©Carol Leigh
 All text, photographs, and other media are ©Copyright Carol Leigh (or others when indicated) and are not in the public domain and may not be used on websites, blogs, or in other media without advance permission from Carol Leigh. Thank you!

Latest work: "Dear Deer"

The wildlife here on Whidbey Island includes a LOT of deer. There's a doe and her fawn that often come through the yard and I was lucky to have my camera at hand when the fawn stopped and looked up at me standing at the window.

I particularly like the spots on her back and her soulful eyes. I incorporated my photo with a number of other photos I've taken of postcards, postage stamps, and more to create this faux poste card.

The postcard was sent in 1910 to someone in Austria, an area called Steiermark, which apparently is known today for producing wine.

©Carol Leigh
 All text, photographs, and other media are ©Copyright Carol Leigh (or others when indicated) and are not in the public domain and may not be used on websites, blogs, or in other media without advance permission from Carol Leigh. Thank you!

Wild (and not-so-wild) kingdom . . .

Interesting interactions with local wildlife of late. We have a buck who visits our yard (whenever he has a hankering for hydrangeas). I call him “Antler Boy” — his antlers are in velvet right now. Anyway, the other day he was out there eating some newly-bloomed fuchsias and so I went outside to talk him out of it. As I was extolling the virtues of our neighbor’s gardens, he began walking toward me.

Part of me thinks, how cool is this? Part of me thinks hmmm, pointy antlers, sharp hooves. Maybe I should be concerned. I take a few cellphone pics as he continues his stroll.

And now I wonder, okay, do I turn my back and (as with a mountain lion) perhaps inadvertently encourage a chase? Should I play dead, as I might with a grizzly? Do I raise my hands to make myself look larger and menacing? Should I make eye contact or not? Do I bare my teeth or would that be the kiss of death-by-deer?

So I did what I do with my cat, who understands hand signals. I raise my hand, like a cop, and say (forcefully) STOP! And he does! But then he comes a few steps closer. Again with the hand and STOP! And yes, he stops again. OMG! I’m the freakin’ deer whisperer!

So, keeping my hand up, I slowly begin walking backwards toward the porch. And he decides to walk away. Whew! Imminent death averted!

There’s been more . . . more owls, rabbits, and coyotes . . . but that will have to wait for another day.

©Carol Leigh
 All text, photographs, and other media are ©Copyright Carol Leigh (or others when indicated) and are not in the public domain and may not be used on websites, blogs, or in other media without advance permission from Carol Leigh. Thank you!

Latest work: "Coastal Crow"

There was a pair of crows that hung around our house on the Oregon coast. I loved seeing them interact, one sidling up next to the other, head down, wanting to be groomed. Or flying past, sticks in their beaks, as they built their nest in a tree on the next block.

I would sometimes give them some of Abby's kibble, tossing it down from the front deck as they stood in the driveway below. As I came out the door, they would immediately fly over to see what I had.

They say crows recognize faces; they remember those who have done them wrong and remember those they feel comfortable around. Shortly before we moved, I took a few final photos of them and I love how this one looks. And, like a crow, I will remember them as well.

 ©Carol Leigh
 All text, photographs, and other media are ©Copyright Carol Leigh (or others when indicated) and are not in the public domain and may not be used on websites, blogs, or in other media without advance permission from Carol Leigh. Thank you!

Cool Bayview Nights Car Show

Whidbey Island's "Cool Bayview Nights Car Show" was a big draw for me Saturday. I can never pass up a car show and the weather was perfect for this one -- cool and overcast.

As usual, I zoomed in on details, not the entire car, which makes me very happy. The coolest hood ornament I've ever seen was on a blue Nash Rambler wagon. The ornament is referred to as a "Flying Lady," but to me it had a distinct California beach bunny vibe.

The grille on a 1939 Ford convertible caught my eye with all its cool repeating curved lines. Same thing with the grille on a 1941 pale blue Willys Coupe. No curves on the Willys grille, but the bold vertical lines are pretty impressive. Another shot of this same car shows a more languid set of curving lines. Ahhhhh . . .

A green 1952 Kaiser Manhattan (a car I'd never heard of until now) also looked pretty cool from the front.

And finally, lots of trophies were all lined up, waiting to be handed out at the end of the day.

The car show was right next to a farmers' market, where we bought fresh corn and a huge planter of basil.

And next to that was a nursery, where we ate at its cafe and then admired all the Japanese maples. If deer don't eat them, I think one of them is definitely in our future. More research needed on that . . .

A good day on Whidbey Island. So happy to be here.

 ©Carol Leigh
 All text, photographs, and other media are ©Copyright Carol Leigh (or others when indicated) and are not in the public domain and may not be used on websites, blogs, or in other media without advance permission from Carol Leigh. Thank you!

Nature isn't always pretty . . . Part 2

I have heard coyotes in the night -- in Palm Springs, in Death Valley -- and always they've been at a distance, their howls sounding lighthearted and joyous and it was always a delight to hear.

Two nights ago. Never have I heard a pack so near, maybe 100 yards away. And it was unnerving to hear the yips and howls and barks, all done with a heavy undercurrent of savagery, of primitiveness, of a pack hunting, capturing and killing. And after about maybe a minute or two, all was silent. Except for the owl, farther off, hooting, as if complaining about all the noise.

So now I think differently about coyotes. They are no longer the Disneyesque, benign pups, playing, rolling about, and howling. I think of them now as canine gangs, intent on finding their prey, celebrating the kill.

And, as with the barred owl with its dead robin, I realize, once again, nature isn't always pretty. It's all part of the plan. All part of the balance of life. I'm just queasy about seeing it. Queasy hearing it.

 ©Carol Leigh
 All text, photographs, and other media are ©Copyright Carol Leigh (or others when indicated) and are not in the public domain and may not be used on websites, blogs, or in other media without advance permission from Carol Leigh. Thank you!

iPhone photos du jour . . .

I've always liked the town of La Conner, Washington, and now it's so close, we can visit a lot more often, as we did yesterday. I forgot to take my DSLR, but made do with the iPhone.

Here's our new car parked on the street (kidding). But it was gorgeous. I took a closeup of the steering wheel, but, realizing that I RARELY take overviews, crossed the street to shoot this one.

We also went into the Northwest Museum of Art, admired their exhibit of prints on the first floor and the pottery on the second, enjoyed the museum store and chatting with the docents/employees. But what I really liked were the simple, stark lines of the staircase that spiraled up from the first to the second floor.

A good day. One of many.

 ©Carol Leigh
 All text, photographs, and other media are ©Copyright Carol Leigh (or others when indicated) and are not in the public domain and may not be used on websites, blogs, or in other media without advance permission from Carol Leigh. Thank you!

Latest work: "Indigo Crossover"

I combined some photos of graffiti I shot in Portland, Oregon with a photo of a very old piece of Japanese paper. I like the overall background warmth that sets off the indigo calligraphy quite well.

 

 ©Carol Leigh
 All text, photographs, and other media are ©Copyright Carol Leigh (or others when indicated) and are not in the public domain and may not be used on websites, blogs, or in other media without advance permission from Carol Leigh. Thank you!

Preparing to be wrong . . .

A friend of mine is interested in creating things, in art, but he rarely sticks with one area or genre. He'll try something and if it doesn't quickly come out "perfect," he loses heart and moves on to something else. And then something else. And then something else. And then bemoans the fact that he doesn't seem talented at anything.

He admits it's a fear of failure that's holding him back. And he's not alone. So many of us travel that same road.

There's something I wrote in my journal a couple of months ago that struck me as being pithy (oh, what is life without a little pith?):

"If you're not prepared to be wrong, you'll never come up with anything original." -- Sir Ken Robinson in a talk about how education kills creativity

To illustrate (I hope) what I'm talking about, let me show you something I did to a photo I took of the juvenile barred owl that showed up the other morning. The last photo I took of him is the second image in this post. I was shooting at ISO 3200 and the photo is very grainy. I was shooting handheld at f/4, but the shutter speed was a slow 1/20 second and so my photo is blurry. Not usable at all.

But what I liked about the photo was how the owl was perched on a thin branch, his shape is well-defined, and he's looking right back at me. To me it's classic "owl" and some might even consider it a bit spooky.

I didn't delete the picture because I thought maybe it had potential.

The shot was grainy and soft. What if I were to emphasize those "flaws" rather than try to hide them? So I used a drawing program in Topaz to blur out the details a bit, to remove the color, and to create texture rather than try to smooth out the grain.

But for me that wasn't enough. I tried using a variety of textures in the picture to add even more "tooth" and to make the image look a bit spookier. The first six or so textures I tried didn't work for me. But then something did, and so I used it, flipped it, used it again, and the top photo is the result.

Is it wonderful? Good enough to sell, maybe? Nah, I don't think so. But I think it's still rather cool, something different, not perfect, but not so bad, either. I like how there's sort of a wintry feel to the picture, how the owl stands out (created by my cropping the image down to a square), and how there's no question he's watching me.

What's my point? If I'm looking for perfection, if I'm afraid of failure, I should have thrown away my original blurry/grainy picture and moved on. But because I felt there might be something more to the image, I decided to play with it. Not create something perfect. But play. Take delight in the process rather than being rigidly attached to the outcome.

Because no matter how much I want my work to be perfect, my joy comes from the experimenting, the playing, and I learn something each and every time. I learn what works, what doesn't, what might work even better with a different picture. Nothing goes to waste. And I am having fun.

Perfectionism, I believe, is highly overrated. It can be boring, stifling, and restricting. And if the first time you sat down to make a basket or paint a watercolor or make a clay pot it came out perfectly, what then? Where's the fun in that? Art, to me, is all about solving problems. How can I create a mood with this image? How can I attach this piece of paper to that piece and create a collage that looks like a landscape? What if I attach this fabric to that wire and then mount the thing on a piece of driftwood? How can I do it better or differently next time? And the next? And the next?

Art isn't rocket surgery. (My favorite phrase of late.) Art is play. Art is experimentation. Art is process. And if the outcome is amazingly wonderful, then hooray for you! And if it's not, you still had a good time just playing. Children don't make sandcastles to make them perfect. They make them because it's fun. The process is simply fun.

Wishing you a week full of fun, no matter what you do.

©Carol Leigh
 All text, photographs, and other media are ©Copyright Carol Leigh (or others when indicated) and are not in the public domain and may not be used on websites, blogs, or in other media without advance permission from Carol Leigh. Thank you!

iPhone photo of the day . . .

One of the few things I brought home from my father's house was a pair of chairs. I think my mom and dad bought them when we were stationed in Carlisle, Pennsylvania for a year. I've always liked their lines. Naturally, no one can sit on them because they're a tad wobbly, but nevertheless, they look pretty cool.

The other morning I noticed the shadows on the wall directly behind this chair and shot the scene with the iPhone 6+. Subsequently processed with Snapseed. One of the better cellphone photos I've created so far . . .

©Carol Leigh
 All text, photographs, and other media are ©Copyright Carol Leigh (or others when indicated) and are not in the public domain and may not be used on websites, blogs, or in other media without advance permission from Carol Leigh. Thank you!

ROYGBIV: VIOLET!

When looking for photographs to illustrate the color violet, I was struck by how difficult it was. I found about 30, looked at them all, and realized that I didn’t have a clue about which one(s) were really violet.

Some of the pictures were very pale, some vivid, some bluish, some reddish, some a brilliant purple, etc. Which ones should I pick for this post?

So I did an online search for the color violet . . .

Wikipedia had this to say, which I thought was pertinent:

“Violet and purple look very similar; but violet is a true color, with its own wavelength on the spectrum of visible light, while purple is a composite color, made by combining blue and red.”

The colors in the first grid (a public domain image) can all be referred to as violet, but the colors in the second grid (also a public domain image), with a much redder vibrancy to them, are purple.

I’m not going to be this picky in future ROYGBIV postings, but I thought it was interesting to try to nail down the color violet and to realize that a lot of the photos I’d chosen were screamingly purple. I’m not particularly concerned about color accuracy, but I do think it’s important that we are at least aware of color differences and how we use them in our work.

©Carol Leigh
 All text, photographs, and other media are ©Copyright Carol Leigh (or others when indicated) and are not in the public domain and may not be used on websites, blogs, or in other media without advance permission from Carol Leigh. Thank you!

Contrast is everything . . .

Since moving here, I realize how much stress I've been under, not only these past 12 months, but generally all my life. It's self-imposed, so I can't blame it on anyone (hate when that happens). But now . . . but now . . .

This morning it was sunny, with cool little breezes, so I went out onto the deck with a journal (thanks to my sister for having sent it to me years ago -- it's perfect for right now) and a cup of coffee.

I watched a couple of rabbits work the yard. A doe and her fawn munched on salal, not minding my presence a bit. Juvenile bald eagles soared and cried out to their parents for food. And, because the deck floor is the ceiling above the juncos' nest, I could hear the vibratory wings of baby birds in the nest when mom or dad would arrive with food.

And once again (since the 20th or so of June) I realize how the stress has disappeared. How I feel happier (novel concept) and don't wake up in the night worrying about what has to be done right now or what I said or did when I was twelve. No life-rehashing. No fretting about the future. It's just a daily thing, enjoying every moment in the present. Who knew feeling "normal" would feel so good?

Anyway, this is what I saw when I sat outside this morning. Taken with a cellphone. Tweaked in a cellphone using Snapseed. Tweaked in Photoshop later using Topaz. Totally awful. But perfectly reflecting the moment. Life is good.

©Carol Leigh
 All text, photographs, and other media are ©Copyright Carol Leigh (or others when indicated) and are not in the public domain and may not be used on websites, blogs, or in other media without advance permission from Carol Leigh. Thank you!

"Gardening"

Chris and I have a code word.

When we're out and about, we often eavesdrop on what others are saying, and if it's especially interesting, funny, absurd, or stupid, we simply say "gardening." The other person then knows to be quiet for a few seconds.

Why "gardening" as a code word? Because if we said, "Shhhhh! I'm EAVESDROPPING!" the eavesdroppees might hear and thus shut up. And there goes our fun!

Here's something we overheard in 2002 in a restaurant in Newport, Oregon. It was so good I wrote it on the placemat, took it home, and kept it. While packing boxes in the last few months, I found it.

In case you can't read my writing (and who can, really? it's very artistic, but highly illegible) a couple at the next table were talking about birds . . .

"Is that a crow or a raven?"
"It's a raven. Crows have yellow beaks and yellow feet."

Do you see why "gardening" can be a most rewarding pastime? I highly recommend it. You just might learn something . . .

©Carol Leigh
 All text, photographs, and other media are ©Copyright Carol Leigh (or others when indicated) and are not in the public domain and may not be used on websites, blogs, or in other media without advance permission from Carol Leigh. Thank you!

Twenty-six minutes with an owl . . .

As I lay in bed this morning, I listened to owls calling back and forth, including the unique sound of a junior owl, a sound that sounds sort of like escaping steam. He was quite close and I got up and looked out the window and saw a shape fly by and then heard a scuffling sound on the deck.

I ran into the living room and slowly looked and yes! There he was, sitting on the railing. I took a few shots with the cellphone, then realized the DSLR was right there in the bedroom, so I went and grabbed that.

You know how it is when you've not used a camera for the past few months and all of a sudden you're in a situation where you need to change the ISO, change the focus to manual, do all the things that in daylight are so easy but at dusk, and when you think the owl is going to fly away at any second and the pressure is mounting? You know that feeling?

So there I was, fumbling about, but you know, the owl didn't care. He was hungry, calling every once in a while to let his parents know where he was in case they wanted to maybe drop a rabbit down next to him, and although he looked at me (and down at Abby) a lot, he wasn't perturbed.

Up top you see the first photo I took, a silhouette (sort of) of him against Saratoga Passage in the background, and then, one of the last photos I took, 26 minutes later, just before he flew off and up into a tree.

There are those (and you know who you are, CJ) who scoff, saying I make up all this stuff about hearing things in the night. Well, ta da! Scoff no more, because here is proof that I heard this owl, found him on the deck railing (still making that weird steamy shrieking sound), and took a few (very bad) photos. Ah! The sweet taste of vindication! (And if you still don't believe me, I have Abby as a witness. I'll be happy to send her to you and she can tell you all about it. . .)

©Carol Leigh
 All text, photographs, and other media are ©Copyright Carol Leigh (or others when indicated) and are not in the public domain and may not be used on websites, blogs, or in other media without advance permission from Carol Leigh. Thank you!

Latest work: "Left of Eight"

Sometimes it's difficult to explain what I've created. This one's a combination of photos, photos I've taken of antique Japanese papers, my own handpainted papers, an envelope I made, a sketch of a crow my sister drew, and the bottom of an oil can.

See? It makes no sense!

But in this picture I particularly like the brown/blue combination of colors, the textures, the little hidden things, and the combination of circles and rectangles.

Perfect opportunity to use one of my favorite phrases: "Makes sense if you don't think about it."

 ©Carol Leigh
 All text, photographs, and other media are ©Copyright Carol Leigh (or others when indicated) and are not in the public domain and may not be used on websites, blogs, or in other media without advance permission from Carol Leigh. Thank you!