Abstracts. The best abstract images are the ones you find in nature. Not always easy to spot with the naked eye, but the compacting characteristics of a long lens shows you things in a different light, and the light in this example reflects the vivid indigo sky above. This is called Brewster's angle, after the Scottish physicist Sir David Brewster. When unpolarized light is incident at the correct angle to water, the light that is reflected from the surface is perfectly polarized which in this case has given me the lovely deep hue. Shot on a quiet hot afternoon at Himley, Staffs.
Tuesday, 29 May 2012
eight
Abstracts. The best abstract images are the ones you find in nature. Not always easy to spot with the naked eye, but the compacting characteristics of a long lens shows you things in a different light, and the light in this example reflects the vivid indigo sky above. This is called Brewster's angle, after the Scottish physicist Sir David Brewster. When unpolarized light is incident at the correct angle to water, the light that is reflected from the surface is perfectly polarized which in this case has given me the lovely deep hue. Shot on a quiet hot afternoon at Himley, Staffs.
Saturday, 21 April 2012
Saturday, 25 February 2012
six
I'm not a fan of city dwelling, but stark skylines fascinate me. The best light is at dawn, before the days pollution gets stirred up to soften up the sunset. But an early start can be an enthusiasm crusher. You also need some high ground, some distance and a long lens. Then re-live the moment on the editing desk. This is London. There is a fantastic view of Brum from ten miles west from a bit of shrubby waste land high above the city, but I've always past it in a hurry. It's next on my list.
Tuesday, 24 January 2012
five
Look to the West across Mercia to the Marches. What do you see? A sunset? My Nikon saw three contrasting colours. White, some umber and black. I saw something very different. Indigo, amethyst, violet, magenta. I saw honey, emerald and chartreuse. No lens, flashcard or any other device for that matter made by man can ever come near the tonal range achieved by the human eye. But, with the wonder of modern digital imaging and a careful use of software, it is possible to relive the moment. The image you see here is as close as it gets to what I saw on top of Adams Hill on a chilly October evening. Trekking back a mile to the car in total darkness through a beech wood was a different matter.
Friday, 20 January 2012
four
I love texture. A lot of my post processing has texture added for a subtle touch of interest, its just great for adding focal points to flat areas of colour. On this lovely, balmy, breeze free Sunday afternoon the rape flowers were perfectly still, bringing their own unique texture to the image and a fantastic paradox against the soft silken sky as the little hunter returns from his foray in the yellow fonds.
Thursday, 19 January 2012
three
The Orton Effect. And one of my cherished areas of Rural England. I love the freedom of taking a mundane grabshot and using creative expression to bring about a warm, soft, pleasing result. I remember as a kid, the old Dubonnet adverts on TV. Supersoft lighting and an amber bias towards the saturation. The Orton Effect gets you very close to that dreamy type of cinematic effect. All credit to Michael Orton who invented the technique in the mid 80's using differing transparencies sandwiched together, although I digitally create mine now in Photoshop.
Wednesday, 18 January 2012
two
It is so easy to allow a thing of beauty to slip by unrecorded. Daybreak in December, and its -12c, feet frozen, hands so cold that they sting with pain and shivering to the core. A half mile walk to recover a car abandoned the night before in drifting snow, and yet still, habitually I carry the camera, raise the finder to my eye and make a new image, working quickly to get back on the move and mobilise against the anger of the cold.
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