It's National Bird Day . . .

. . . how will you celebrate? ©Carol Leigh

Latest work: "Same River Three Times"

I made this photomontage using a variety of torn papers, rust-stained paper, linen fabric, and rusty muslin. The wide black circles are coffee cup rings I created (which is why they're so thick — I'm not THAT sloppy a drinker!) and then photographed. ©Carol Leigh

Art is not what you see, but what you make others see. — Edgar Degas

Car taillight. ©Carol Leigh

Day one . . .

I wrote at least a thousand words a day every day from the age of twelve on.
—Ray Bradbury, Zen in the Art of Writing

This is the book I'm reading right now and I'm attempting to apply his words to my world of photography. Photography and creativity. And here's what I think: If Ray Bradbury can write at least a thousand words a day, can we all not take at least ONE decent photo per day?

Let's face it. It's never been easier to photograph than it is today. We've got cameras in our iPads, our cellphones, in the little point-and-shoots we carry around, up to full-frame digital SLRs. We all have cameras of some sort.

And it's never been easier to acquire how-to information. When I first began in photography back in the late 1970s (sound of rocking chair creaking), my options were to teach myself, join a photo club, and/or take classes/workshops. I opted to teach myself, finding and reading books and magazines, looking at photos I thought were good and trying to figure out why they were good.

Fast-forward to today, and yes, we've still got classes/workshops to take, books and magazines, but we've also got huge amounts of information online in the form of online classes, eBooks, video tutorials, camera clubs, photography forums, and so much more. It's almost overwhelming, at least it is to me.

So why aren't we all taking the most incredible photos all the time? Why do some of us still not know how to work our cameras or use our software? Why don't our photos look like some of the extraordinary work we see online or in galleries?

The quote above, from Ray Bradbury, is applicable to us as photographers in two ways. First, he wrote every day since he was twelve? Yet it wasn't until he was 24 (or so) that he wrote a story that he knew was really good, was unique to him, which reflected his true voice. It took him twelve years of writing to get to the point where he felt he was becoming a pretty decent writer.

But what really struck home was that he practiced his "art" every day from the age of twelve. If our art is photography, how much time have we really put into it? Are we shooting every day?

Well, today's the day to ask ourselves, why aren't we? We've got cameras, magazines, books, and the power of the Internet to make us excellent photographers. What we need to do is photograph every day.

Shortly after I got my first digital SLR, I challenged myself to take one decent photo every day. Yes, it was a pain in the butt, but nothing I've ever done has pushed me so much toward becoming a good photographer.

This daily challenge required that I think photography all the time. Could that be my daily photo? Or that over there? Panic, too, was a good motivator: Oh, no! I've not shot my photo today and it's 8:00 in the evening! I began looking through kitchen cupboards, chasing the cat around the house, rolling towels oh-so-artfully, anything to fill my frame so I could complete my daily assignment. Panic leads to creativity, big time.

I shot daily for more than a year, and I posted my daily pictures online. Why? Posting my photos kept me sort of accountable to whoever might be following what I was doing. I didn't want to disappoint all seven of those people! And my photography is much, much better as a result.

Why didn't I continue? Why not continue on, year after year, shooting and posting daily photos? Because photography and I are sort of wrapped around one another anyway; I don't need the daily pressure to think about photography, to experiment with photography -- I do it all the time anyway, no worries.

But if you haven't given yourself the daily burden/opportunity of shooting a decent photograph every day, your photography runs the risk of stalling out, of your not paying attention to the things you see in your daily life, and you'll get out of practice, you'll get rusty, and your photography will suffer.

It's a very old joke, the one "How do I get to Carnegie Hall?" "Practice, practice, practice." The same holds true with photographers, with writers, with musicians, with painters. To improve your art, DO IT. Do it daily. Do it in public. And maybe, twelve years from now, like Ray Bradbury, you'll be looking at your work and quietly nodding to yourself thinking yes, these photos are good. Damn good!

Happy New Year, everybody. Wishing you a happy and creative 2014.

©Carol Leigh

When limitations can be freeing . . .

I went to Martha's Vineyard this year and I didn't take a tripod. It was an emotional, last-second decision (I'm taking too much stuff, it's taking up too much room in the suitcase, so screw it).

It was a mistake. I missed out on a lot of possibilities.

However, there's a part of me that enjoys limitations, seeing what I can do with what I have rather than bemoaning what I left behind. In fact I will often -- on purpose -- take just one lens to a location and see what I can do.

It's a freeing feeling in a way -- having limitations.

Instead of going to a photo location with a plan, a set of preconceptions, I relax. I let the photos come to me instead of trying to bend them to my will. I'm more open to what might happen. I'm more open to experimentation. And I often return with photos I might otherwise never have taken.

How did not having a tripod help me in Martha's Vineyard?

I figured that instead of looking at possible out-of-focus images as a detriment, I would try enhancing the out-of-focusness by creating photos that show movement.

A couple of little girls playing in the surf at the end of the day became expressions of childhood delight as I used long-ish exposures.

I played with long-exposure "sweeps," making the ocean or landscape into broad swaths of color. When I was lost in the woods, I made the most of low light by creating vertical tree "sweeps."

I was on vacation. I wasn't burdened with a tripod. Yes, I missed out on a number of photo ops, but I had fun!

I loved the freedom having no tripod gave me, the ability to walk long distances unencumbered. The ease with which I could duck into a shop or a coffee bar and not worry about bumping into things or finding a place to stow my stuff.

What's my point? Limitations, constraints that seemingly work against you, can actually become liberating agents, encouraging you to see things differently, to experiment, to play.

I blew it by not taking a tripod. But my resulting experience was just delightful -- spontaneous, unplanned, and freeing.

Lemons? Here's your lemonade.

Wishing you all a most happy, healthy, and serene 2014!

©Carol Leigh

Just Plane Art . . .

Put me in an air museum and this is what I tend to see — not the whole picture, but little vignettes such as these.

Although I love that I can see this way, can pick out little bits of what others might consider nothingness and make them look cool, I wish I could also grasp the big picture and make something equally interesting out of that.

And isn't that the beauty of photography (and of art in general)? Each of us sees in our own unique way. And each of us creates in our own unique way.

Add to that the fact that we all can share what we do so easily via the Internet, that we can also see and be inspired by others via the Internet.

Ah, 'tis a good time to be an artist, don't you think?

Wishing us all years of creativity ahead. And years of seeing and sharing what we're doing.

©Carol Leigh

It's a good day to . . .

. . . visit your local fish market! (It's Dungeness crab season, folks! Get 'em while they're fresh!) ©Carol Leigh

Merry Christmas to you . . .

Wishing you all love, peace, health, and happiness!

Joyful days!

Well, based on this stamp, Christmas is all about wearing cool clothes and flying around . . . works for me! Hope you're having a happy holiday season, no matter what you're wearing, no matter what you're doing. Love to all, Carol Leigh

Latest work: "Old Papers and a Feather"

An arithmetic book from the mid-1800s, a check from 1878, paper from a vintage Japanese book, and more went into this collage. The feather? Found it on the beach. ©Carol Leigh

It's a good day to . . .

. . . balance hoses on your tongue! ©Carol Leigh

Latest work: "Twenty-Six Stripes"

For someone who is pretty clueless at math, I'm drawn to numbers (and letters) as graphic elements. So I began this piece with a blank white canvas, added the number 26, and then started adding photos I've taken of cement, hand-painted papers, and a fishing boat (yup, that's where the stripes come from!) and there you have it. I like the bright colors, the stripes, and the overall texture. This was fun! Hope you like it. ©Carol Leigh

Photomontages on Pinterest . . .

I've begun a board on Pinterest containing my photomontages, and here's the link:

http://www.pinterest.com/caroleigh2013/carol-leigh-art/

As I create more and as I locate more, I'll be adding additional pictures each day. If YOU are on Pinterest, please send me the link to your board so I can see what you're doing, too. I'm new to this and am interested in learning as much as I can. Thanks!

Carol Leigh

Latest work: "Mastodons Are On Their Way"

I finished this one this morning and uploaded it to Fine Art America. It, and a description of the various elements in it, are at my Faux Poste blog. (So many different "portals" for getting my work seen and it gets really crazy sometimes.) Anyway, just wanted to quickly post it here as well. ©Carol Leigh

Pay attention . . .

I had granola for breakfast with sliced strawberries on top. I sat at the table eating, reading my e-mail and didn't really pay attention to what I was eating and tasting until there were just two bits of strawberry left.

A wonderful breakfast and I missed it.

I missed the gingery flavor in the cereal, the taste of the pecans, the softness of the oat flakes, and the cold, fresh bite of the strawberries.

I had breakfast but I didn't realize it. I wasn't paying attention.

What does that have to do with photography, with the images I create?

I pride myself as being a person who notices things, who sees a lot that others miss. I even have a blog on seeing (woefully ignored over the past several months). I am a noticer.

I didn't notice my breakfast. And that's going to change.

Maybe we're conditioned to notice not everything, but selected things. Someone may be particularly attuned to sound. Another to color combinations. Another to makes and models of cars. To architectural styles, to textures, to shoes. And maybe that's a good thing, for if we noticed everything, we'd explode from sensory overload.

Where am I going with this?

As artists, it's our job to notice things. We see the designs and patterns on a sea urchin shell. We notice the way the shape of something over there echoes the shape of something over here. Or the way the wind blows the spray back from a cresting wave.

And all these things we notice we bring into our art.

That sea urchin design may show up on the side of a clay pot we're making. The echoing shapes may show up in a collage we're creating. And the spray off the crashing waves? Well, sometimes things are just meant to be quietly admired and appreciated for what they are. Simply noticing the spray adds to the quality of our life, and who knows (right now) how and when it will show up later?

What's my point?

Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. Pay attention!

©Carol Leigh

Latest works . . .

I've been generating a prodigious amount of work lately with no lack of ideas and with the luxury of having a decent amount of time to create. I'm not sleeping much at all (which isn't good), but I'm loving what I'm doing.

What I especially love is the surprise, the way images turn out that bear no resemblance to my initial concept(s). I try an effect, something bizarre happens, and so I run with it, often tossing it out later but that doesn't matter -- it's the process that's important, and everything I discard gives me a stronger foundation for future images. (Did that make any sense? Am I taking myself way too seriously?)

As I'm working, I'm constantly uploading my pictures to Fine Art America, where I currently have slightly more than 800 available. And sales have been good. I'm excited at how well I'm doing there, and am extremely grateful.

Here are five examples of current images. The prayer flag project continues. I'll probably upload one more "set" (three individual images plus a triptych) and then, even though I've got many more for this particular series, am going to change the look, see if I can come up with a completely different series of them.

Old papers, cement, my own sketches, lines, and marks are forming the backbone of what I'm currently doing. I'm also looking at previous "failures" and seeing if there's anything I can do with new eyes and more skills to create something better.

It's 3 a.m., 19 degrees outside, Chris and the cat are sound asleep, and here I am in my little office, bleary-eyed but very pleased with how things are progressing. Wishing you equal pleasure in your work, whatever it is that is capturing your heart, but hoping you are sound asleep right now and that your weather is a bit warmer than we're having here.

©Carol Leigh

Latest work: "Corvus Star Chart"

The basis of this piece is a part of a map, a map called the "Pilot Chart of the North Pacific Ocean," printed in 1944 by the U.S. Navy. I got it at a flea market. (It was brown, ripped, torn, dirty -- perfect!) Other items are a star chart, a crow I photographed on the Oregon coast last week, a diagram showing how a seagull flies, foreign currency, and more. What I like is how the crow, dark as night, stands out against the star chart and the map.

Some of you (who shall not be named) aren't particularly fond of crows. So you (who shall not be named) should just look away!  :-)

Oh, and it's snowing right now here on the coast. Very gently. It's still dark so I can't see much, but what I can see is lovely. Hope some crows show up . . .

©Carol Leigh

Latest project: Prayer Flags

I've been working practically nonstop on a new project. I got the idea seeing some prayer flags hanging in my sister-in-law's house in La Jolla. My idea was to create my own handmade prayer flags, not what you see here. But somehow my ideas rarely seem to come out the way I think they will.

I was blending together various photos of vintage papers and metal and whoosh! All of a sudden I had an image that looked very much like a prayer flag. Well, that was cool. Is it possible to make a bunch of prayer flags, all with the same sort of look and feel, yet different?

(I'm thinking SERIES. Over at Fine Art America they sold a series of my photos -- seven of them -- and it was great. So my brain is sort of fixated on the concept of series these days.)

I ended up making 36 prayer flags. Thirty-six! So now I'm in the process not only of uploading all the individual prayer flags, but I'm making diptychs and triptychs using them as well. And it's taking me a long time.

Here's an idea of what I'm doing. Please wish me well!

©Carol Leigh

Uh-oh . . .

This is unusual for us here on the coast. And snow in the forecast? "Most peculiar, mama!" ©Carol Leigh

Latest work: "Crow In Golden Light"

These photomontages didn't begin the way I thought they would. Wait. Yes, they began the way I thought they would, but then things just began happening and my whole concept changed. I'll go back to my original idea and will continue it some day, but for now, these crows just insist on being here. It's hard to argue with crows sometimes...

©Carol Leigh

Latest work: "Golden-Crowned Kinglet"

Every once in awhile a bird will fly into one of our windows and my heart just drops. I always go check to see if the bird is okay. Ninety-nine percent of the time they're fine, just stunned. So I pick them up, rearrange their wings, and wait for them to "come to." This way they're not helpless prey for some opportunistic crow or cat. It's a privilege to be so close to a bird, to be able to admire its coloration, its feathers, its little feet grasping my finger.

A golden-crowned kinglet like this fell victim to my window. I gathered her up, admired her little whiskers (something you never see in the bird books), and waited until she was ready to fly away. And waited. And waited. I finally placed her on a little branch and, a few minutes later, she zoomed away. I can just imagine her telling her fellow birdie friends, "No, really, a huge hand came out of the sky and lifted me up, up, up, and watched me with big eyes, and then let me go! Swear to god! It was an alien abduction! Okay, so don't believe me . . ."

This photomontage was made with an image from a vintage bird book, photos I've taken of torn papers, and those little boxes in the lower left? Those are photos of cellophane tape on an old book cover. Weird materials perhaps, but I love the result. I hope you do, too.

Latest work: "Winter Fall"

A compilation of various papers, including a letter written in 1831, aged and weathered cellophane tape, vintage Japanese papers, and torn cardboard. Thank you Kathleen A. for one of the papers and CJ for the ripped cardboard and cellophane tape! You know me so well...

Other women love receiving diamonds and clothes; I squeal over rusty washers (Elena N.), used stamps (Patty H.), and foreign coins (the Bears). Thank you, too, to Linda H., who introduced me to SCRAP. And a special thank-you to Chris, who finds things I don't even know I need until I see them! ©Carol Leigh

"The Artist's Way"

My latest work: "Amida Buddha Postcard Collage"
which I just uploaded to Fine Art America this morning.

This book has been on my shelf for at least 11 years now, and I keep vowing to work through it, but I never seem to get past the first chapter or so. It's The Artist's Way by Julia Cameron and it encourages you to accept your artistry and enhance your creativity. It's a tad "woo woo" for me, but this time around I'm giving it a decent go.

Part of Ms. Cameron's philosophy (well, it's a huge part of her philosophy) is to write three pages of what she calls "morning pages," three pages of anything you wish to scribble down. Even if all you're writing is "I don't know what to write. I don't know what to write."

Gotta say, as much as I love writing, I don't relish doing these three pages every morning. But I've done them now every day for more than a month, so I'm proud that I'm hanging in there.

Have there been any big revelations? Any huge breakthroughs? I'm not sure yet. I know that I have gotten some good ideas, but then I always get ideas, whether I'm writing every morning or not. In fact, I have so many ideas that I'll need numerous lifetimes to carry them out.

What I want is clarity, a more solid direction for me and my art. But I get bored going in just one direction. Who wants to spend their life doing just one thing? I blame it on being a Gemini... I cast my fate to the stars -- it's totally out of my hands!

Anyway, just wanted to mention what I'm reading and why. It's fun having all these books around to be picked up at times throughout the day. I read a few pages, nod sagely, make a few notes in my "idea book," and then move on, refreshed.

So I hope I can make it all the way through The Artist's Way this time, even though I find myself complaining, as I write my morning pages, how I could be at the computer or in the studio actually making something right now, rather than sitting on my butt writing, writing, writing . . .

How about you? Anybody else working their way through this book? (I know you have, Laura Lein-Svencner, and I'm enjoying reading your blog where you're talking about it.) And is it putting you in a different space? Is it elevating your artistry, your sense of yourself as an artist? Please say yes, otherwise I'm doomed to harboring 12 weeks of resentment as I grumble my way through this book!

©Carol Leigh

Latest work: "Folded Indigo"

Artistic slumps come around and I know they always move on, but it's sure tough while they're here.

But in a way, no, they're welcome, because they force me to think more, to experiment more, to learn more. And man, this one, which I just finished, was a real learning process. Things weren't coming together the way I thought they should, so I kept asking myself questions, looking things up online, experimenting, tossing things out, etc.

So this one's done, but as I look at it, I'm thinking of different ways it can look, so maybe tomorrow I'll pull it apart and transmogrify it into something similar, but different. We shall see. In the meantime, it's not raining here, it's low tide, it's overcast -- perfect for walking on the beach! I'm outta here!

©Carol Leigh

Overheard . . .

Overheard in a restaurant: "What size suitcase do you have?" Long pause. "Blue."

I swear, I can't make this stuff up . . .

Being thankful . . .

We had a good afternoon the other day up at the docks. Lots of walking, lots of looking, lots of (really bad) photos taken, a tasty lunch. We have so much to be thankful for . . .

At one point this lone crow (hello, Laura!) walked along a heavy rope, something unidentifiable in his mouth. I was shooting straight into the sunlight and look at how the sparkles on the water turned into a lovely bokeh. (Pronounced with the stress on both syllables "bo-keh." The out-of-focus circles.) It was so pretty I added a few more sparkles down at the bottom using Photoshop. Not so many as to be really obvious and gimmicky, but enough to repeat the pattern and to keep your eye moving up and down in the frame as well as horizontally along the rope, following the crow.

Next is a simple shot of the door to a boat's cabin. I liked the dark triangular shadow lower left and how it echoes the dark glass of the window upper right. But the cool part was the patina on the lock/doorknob.

And finally, Chris snickered when we walked past a dumpster and I said, "Ooh, great paint drip! You scoff now, but I will use that!" "I know you will," was his response. "And you'll use it well!" So here it is combined with lettering on the side of a fishing boat. A very messy "S."

In this season of giving thanks, of being especially aware of gratitude, I thank you all for being here, for taking the time to stop by my blog, and, every now and then, taking the time to comment. May we all never take any of this for granted.

©Carol Leigh

Street art . . .

Sometimes the coolest patterns and designs are right under your feet. Or in this case, right under your tires. Gotta love this "street art" I found in San Diego. ©Carol Leigh

On creativity and slowing down . . .

I read a lot, always have, remember very little, always have, but things hit me hard once in awhile and make me pause.

I've just begun reading World Enough & Time by Christian McEwen and it's a delicious, slow read. Concurrent with this book, I'm also reading James Lee Burke's Creole Belle, another slow, delicious read. Burke keeps me glued to the story. McEwen keeps me coming back for more, little sips at a time.

McEwen's concept is in her subtitle: "On Creativity and Slowing Down." And that's what caught my eye when I learned about this book.

I'm creative. And I have decided to slow down (again). What a perfect book for me to read right now.

She talks about teachers who have to deal with larger and larger classes, with "no child left behind" requirements, getting up early to grade papers, to prepare for their classes, and who are often "overtaxed and anxious." And aren't we all these days?

She points out that,

In recent years, that humblest of written links, the tiny hyphen, has vanished from some 16,000 words. "Fig-leaf" is now "figleaf," "pigeon-hole" is "pigeonhole," and "leap-frog" has catapulted into "leapfrog." The reason, says Angus Stevenson, who edited the Shorter Oxford English Dictionary, is that we no longer have time to reach over to the hyphen key.

What does this have to do with art? With living? I don't know yet because I'm only 27 pages into the book. But it's a delightful read. A slow read. A put-the-book-down-and-think-a-bit read. And it keeps me coming back. And did you notice? Look at all those hyphens I used!

More to follow, I'm sure, as I move through this delightful book. (I've put links to both these books in my blog, there on the right side, down a little bit, just in case you're interested.)

©Carol Leigh (who rescues hyphens whenever possible)

It's a good day to . . .

. . . practice your enigmatic smile! ©Carol Leigh

Overheard . . .

Overheard in a restaurant: "We'll need Christmas costumes like an elf, Robin Hood, you know."

Robin Hood?