Glow night at the Indiana State Fair!

My friend Becky and I went to the state fair last night for lots of reasons, among them to see the images some of our friends had entered in the photography contests but mainly to see the balloons.  There was a balloon race this morning and last night the balloons were all lined up to glow.  It was dusk and the fun was about to begin.


At 8:45 they were firing them up.


As you can see, one young fellow riding on his father’s shoulders had a balloon of his own.

The darker it got the more impressive it was.


The notion of putting fire inside a bag made of what seems to be a delicate fabric eludes me as a real possibility.   But then again, there was an engineer who proved that a bumblebee can’t fly.


Are we at the state fair?  Yes, we’re at the state fair, complete with Ferris wheels.  And lots of people.


I was very glad that we could get up close to these flying machines.


This magic couldn’t last forever and the balloons were eventually brought down.


And then it was off to the midway.

The pattern of lights on this Ferris wheel kept changing.  It was beautiful.


The idea of paying money to hang upside down in space is a little uncomfortable.  Although I suppose I would if asked.   Then again, maybe not.


The memory of those balloons will be with me for a long time.  At least until next year at this time.

Good day to be out

My friend Eileen and I went to the EcoLab at Marian University yesterday morning.  It was in the low 70’s and I didn’t need to use the sweatband I had brought along.  The sweatband was an essential part of spending much time outside the last month or so.


The waterlilies are getting ready to bloom.


And there were plenty of other flowers.



There were plenty of birds but we could only hear them, they were in the woods.  But there was a muskrat.


And plenty of dragonflies.


I wanted this one to face the camera but he would have none of it.  Reminds me of when I was a kid.  Some of the waterlilies were looking the other way too.


Good day to be out.  We’ll hope for more.

A morning with Mom

I needed to go out and shoot this morning and I asked Mom if she wanted to join me.  She was enthusiastic and ready to go.  She was much lighter now and feeling much, much better.  We went down to Fall Creek this morning.


Mom was an observer rather than a participant today.  She never had much luck with a camera and it was more enjoyable for her to just be out than it was to take pictures.  I didn’t argue because I remember the history of Mom’s battles with the camera.  Here is one example taken during World War II.  This is my younger brother and me.  Our Dad was off in the Pacific with the Navy and Mom wanted to send him a picture of his boys.  We were decked out in our winter gear and facing the camera.  Mom fidgeted with that infernal machine and after a few minutes Rob and I got more interested in what was behind us.  Mom meanwhile was either so intent on the mechanics of picture taking that she didn’t notice which way we were facing or she just gave up.

Over the years her skill at cooking, raising two boys, participating in community life, playing the piano and many other things all improved but her picture taking didn’t.  So I was happy for her to just be along for the experience this morning.  So was she.


We were out before it was too hot but I still needed a headband.  Good thing to have in this weather.  So the water looked especially inviting.


I have to tell you that Mom died in body if not in spirit this morning at 3:00.  She was 95 years old and her body had been shutting down over the last few weeks.  She was not ambulatory for the last week or so.  So last night her body finished its task and closed down.  I was called at 3:15 and I went over.  She was at peace.  The last thing to go was her smile.  This was her trademark.  Before she was so ill I would take her for rides in a wheelchair around Westminster Village North where she lived.  It is a sizable facility and there are lots of people.  But just about everyone knew Clara Lively because as I wheeled her around she gave everyone a cheery wave and a ‘Hello, dear!’  People would light up when they saw her coming.  And the smile lasted to the end.


My way of coping includes going out to shoot.  Before I set out this morning I thought I would love to have Mom go with me in spirit if by no other means.  And I got the feeling that she would have loved to go too.  So she was with me.  Walking along Fall Creek we came to the I465 bridge over the creek.  It is a substantial bridge and large enough that the light under it is quite diffuse and often interesting.  There was a strip of rocks which would guide rain water away from the base of the bridge and usually there are leaves and other random objects there and they can be interesting to photograph.  I looked all along the strip of rocks and there was nothing else there but the feather above.  Nothing particularly remarkable about a feather being there.  Except that there was nothing else of interest.  And Mom’s nickname since she was small was Bird.


I think Mom and I will go shooting again.  Maybe tomorrow.

Tiny moments

One of my friends suggested that a small group of us go to a place in the country she knew to do some shooting Sunday evening.  This place belongs to one of her other friends.  If hot, it was a lovely evening and there were plenty of good opportunities for photography.


The setting was excellent.  One could spend a long time shooting here.   But there was also something rather subtle – subtle in the sense of our probably not noticing it  because we weren’t really paying attention – going on.  The light was constantly shifting.  There was a breeze and the play of light on the leaves was just that, play.  The image above is one of four taken over a period of two seconds but this one stood out as better than the others because it showed the light to best advantage.  The light and the subject offered a lesson if we would simply pay attention.  They were giving us choices, each delivered in a tiny moment.

Steve, the fellow we were visiting, kept urging us to hang on until the sun was setting.  No guarantees but it should be good.  Some of us hung on.  It was hot, the mosquitoes were enthusiastic but Steve spoke with conviction.


Again, one of those images of a moment.  I don’t want to leave the impression that I confidently waited and spotted the right moment and pressed the shutter button just once.  This was number six of 14 shots.

Other times and places.  Moving water is constantly changing patterns.  One could shoot for hours and not get the same image twice.  All tiny moments, this one on Fall Creek.


And this one on the White River.


I think that is part of the attraction of photography.


We know each moment is tiny, very tiny, and we want to capture some trace of some of them.  Keep shooting.

Awareness

We all go through life not noticing much of the world around us.  This makes sense.  We have a limited capacity to process incoming information, or, more simply, we attend to some things at the cost of not attending to other things, many other things.  I suspect that even this blue heron is not aware of much more than what is going on in the water around it.


Although it did seem to notice me.


We all know about this limitation, but it can be surprising how severe it can be.  Imagine that you are watching a video of six people who are tossing two basketballs to one another.  Three of the people have black shirts and three have white shirts.  The white shirts are passing a ball to other white shirts and to black shirts while the black shirts are doing the same.  In other words, everybody is throwing to everybody.  Two balls constantly in motion and six people wandering around also constantly in motion.  Your task is to count how many times the white shirts pass the balls.  This is a somewhat demanding task.  Let’s suppose that when you are finished with the task, you counted the correct number of throws by the white shirts.  That is, you were concentrating pretty closely to the task at hand.  Now, let’s suppose that in the middle of the action, a young woman in a gorilla suit comes in at the right, walks among the players (who are ignoring her), stops in the middle facing you and beats her chest.  She then walks off to the left.  What are the odds that you would have attended closely enough to the ball throwing task to get the right count AND see the gorilla?  It turns out in replication after replication of this experiment, conducted in many different countries, that the odds are about 50:50 that you would have noticed the gorilla.  You can try this yourself by going to this website.  And be sure to watch the second video (The Monkey Business Illusion) and see how well you do in that task.


Our attention is indeed limited so how likely is it you would have seen the dew on the leaf above if you were thinking about what’s for lunch and you weren’t looking down at the ground?  I am not going to admonish anyone for being inattentive – I do a very good job at that myself, just ask my wife.  I am saying that there is an amazingly surprising and beautiful world out there, just waiting to be seen and perhaps photographed and other things such as looking at big shiny bright things or attending to our own thoughts get in the way.


So what do we do if we want to see more of the world?  One approach is to simply stand still and look around.  Give yourself some time, you may not see anything interesting right away.  But give it some time.


I don’t know if this plant above is a weed or a flower.  This brings up another very important point.  As you are looking, don’t try to name or classify what you see.  Get out of the ‘gardener’s way of seeing’ (e.g. this is a flower, that is a weed, this is good, that is bad) and into a way of seeing without words and without judgement about what is good and what is bad..  Don’t look for flowers, you may miss an interesting weed.  Look for interesting shapes, textures, colors. There is no doubt this is difficult, it runs counter to what we do all the time.


These leaves have texture and in a labeling way of seeing may be classified as junk, something to be gotten rid of.  You can bet that a groundskeeper will be raking them up as well as the fallen blossoms below.  These blossoms were found this way, they weren’t arranged.  And very little was required in Photoshop to make them presentable.


It can be rewarding to go out and simply look.  If that doesn’t turn up much, you might look for geometric shapes – circles, squares, triangles, etc.

But the aim is to work at looking at something without naming or judging, to see it not as it’s name, description or value but just for what it is.  I can’t say that I can do that well, but I’m working at it.

A perfect evening

Just a few pictures today.  Last evening I went out to Fort Harrison State Park around 7:00.  The temperature was in the low 80’s, a wood thrush was singing, and the skies were clear.  The sun light was soft and caressed the trees and summer flowers.  A good time for photography.


I’ve been reading the work of Richard Rohr, a Franciscan priest who is working on reviving practices of the mystics, practices that have been carried on by individuals but appear lost to religious institutions since the Reformation in the 16th century.  He writes of reciting litanies (phrases) to oneself as a way of experiencing the mystery of the Holy Spirit.  One such litany is ‘Pure Gift of God’.


The song of the wood thrush, the light, the beautiful flowers and this litany all came together for me last night.  It felt like time out of time, something to which one must be fully present.


I’m not very good yet at being fully present but if I ever needed motivation to keep working at it, this was it.

“Life is available only in the present moment.”
Thich Nhat Hanh

Exotic Feline Rescue Center

My friend Eileen – another photographer – and I toured the Exotic Feline Rescue Center near Center Point, IN, about 65 miles southwest of Indianapolis.  I have to say that I have never been that excited about cats, large or small, until we went to this place.


But to see them up close and focusing on their eyes, one begins to sense a story here.  This story tells of cruelty in the past in many cases, care in the present for all of them and, unfortunately, little chance of release to the wild in the future.  They just aren’t equipped to handle life in the wild.  They have a permanent home here.


They are well fed, the Center depending in part on fresh road kill, sick cows and other animals.  Farmers are required to put down diseased livestock and they are an important source of food.  The diseases do not transmit to the cats.


Here is a ‘designer’ tiger, one that was bred to produce a white coat with black stripes.  It didn’t work out.  Furthermore the tiger is blind. At least it wasn’t put down.  Even if the eyes are blind they tell a story.


Some people bought large cats to be pets.  Uh huh.  Who could possibly have known it wasn’t going to work out?  Again, uh huh.  These animals are not clothing accessories.


The Center relies a lot on volunteers.  Some people drive an hour and a half or two hours to do what they are asked to do.


A quick note on photographing these animals.  They are all behind strong fences and the fencing is likely to be part of the picture.  You can reduce the impact of the fence by getting as close as permissible and using a shallow depth of field – in many of these shots the aperture was at most f/5.6 and in some cases down to f/2.8.  Do you see the fence in this next shot?


Somewhat visible but even less visible in the next shot.


Going to the Exotic Feline Rescue Center is a trip well worth taking.   The cats will tell you a story.


There is a bed and breakfast nearby and apparently guests there will often hear the animals roaring at night.


And as Ogden Nash recommends, ‘If you are called by a panther, don’t anther.’   Except when it is on the other side of the fence.

Central State Hospital

I was invited to join some friends from the Photo Venture Camera Club this morning on a photo shoot at Central State Hospital, a facility abandoned some years ago.


It was a beautiful morning and we got to Central State early, ahead of the heat.   Central State was occupied, I think, until sometime in the 90s.  The deterioration since then was quite evident.


In addition to walking around taking pictures, I was also going down two other mental paths, one concerned with the stories I have heard at our church, Church of the Saviour, about a mission group within the church that worked to close down this mental hospital.  The other path, distantly connected to the first, concerned the work I did at the Hutchings Psychiatric Center in upstate New York.


The church mission group had as one of its tasks finding and furnishing apartments for hospital residents who were being released to the community.  They also spent time with inpatients.  One inpatient had not spoken in many, many years.  One of the women in our church had children who were profoundly deaf and she could gesture American sign language.  She tried it with this woman and to everyone’s surprise the woman responded.  A beautiful hunch.


This image might represent the confused state of mind that someone who had been living as an inpatient for years might experience on hitting the streets.  This brings up the other path my thoughts were taking.  Many years ago I worked in the research department at Hutchings in Syracuse NY.  One of our jobs was identifying optimal locations for community outreach centers.  At the time Hutchings was charged with maintaining a relatively small inpatient unit and an extensive set of outreach units around the county staffed to provide medication, socialization, group therapy and some individual therapy in the community.  What I saw was that the system worked pretty well although there was significant return to the inpatient unit even with solid community programming.  I don’t know what the community programs are like here in Indianapolis, I would guess not as strong as the Hutchings program.  I’ve met some of the people who would have benefited from that when our church has fed the homeless.  That’s where some of them are now.


When out photographing, I’ve come to think about windows as metaphors for gateways to the human mind.  Windows can give us a hint about what is going on in there.


But often they simply reflect the world back at itself.


If they reflect anything more than the sky.


Abandoned.  The Central State institution is abandoned.  I think many of the people are as well.  One of the people on the shoot is a school speech therapist and as we were walking around this morning, she was describing the plight of of some young people going into the world after high school who stand little chance of anything meaningful in employment.  Somewhat retarded, they aren’t retarded enough to qualify for the help that is provided and they don’t have, and likely will never have, the skills needed to survive in the world.


This is Memorial Day.  My dad and all of my uncles who went into World War II came home safely, some level of miracle.  As we remember those who sacrificed for freedom, let us also remember those who are being passively sacrificed right here at home.


I don’t want to leave the impression that we have pulled the plug on all those people who came out of Central State.  We haven’t.  But care is needed for a lot of people, more care than is being provided.  Let’s remember that too.

Water

Photo Venture Camera Club went to Spring Mill State Park this past weekend and befitting the fact that rainfall is over 50% above normal, I found that most of my shots involved water in one form or another.  We were fortunate though, it didn’t rain until Saturday midafternoon.


It’s surprising what lengthening out the exposure does for images of flowing water.  The image above was about .3 sec. in duration.  If you had walked past the stream you probably would have done just that, walked past.  Human vision is fast enough that you would not have seen the silky effect a camera can show.


It’s just a matter of learning what to look for and hoping for the best.


But once you see the possibilities it can get tedious for those with you.  You’re snapping away and they probably don’t see the possibilities.  Which is fine, they see something else.


It can be very satisfying to see a possibility and have it pan out.  Digital photography helps a great deal here.  We can take chances and shoot a lot of scenes that might (probably) won’t be interesting once we see them on the computer.  But there is no particular cost.  I took 600 pictures in about 24 hours.  Perhaps 2% of them are worth looking at.


We weren’t the only ones on the water.


That’s why I love photography.

This morning

It was a varied morning of shooting.


I’ve been following this trillium sessile for a few days and it is getting ready to pop.  It will be purple.  It is in the backyard.

Becky and I went to the Ecolab at Marion University later in the morning, a good place to go just about any time of the year but Spring seems to best suit it.


The bluebells are in bloom there.

The lily pads were dancing and who wouldn’t join them?


It was a good morning.


It was a spiritual morning, a morning to know we are connected to all life in this world.