It's Fall. The Fall colors are here. And this year I was determined to photograph something good for the season. I have been working hard and putting myself out there with the website and all and I was super excited to deliver. So I rented a Canon EOS 5D Mark III Digital SLR and a Canon EF 16-35mm f/2.8L II USM lens to go with it (copy and pasted that mouthful from the invoice), left the office early, and headed for the mountains! Baker Lodge in the North Cascades to be exact. Where I knew many other photographers would be gathering for the same reasons as I.
After many unscheduled stops for food, coffee, and to buy everything I forgot at home, I arrived at the lodge around 9pm. It was dark but the lights at the lodge were still on so I knew people were still up. Not only did it mean I didn't have to search for a bunk in the dark, there might still be some photographers awake and excited to talk about gear and plans! Excited to get in there and start conversing with photographers I was very surprised to see the dinning area full of....painters.
They outnumbered the photographers. Rich assured I could take out at least two on my own. But of course that wasn't the concern. There weren't any concerns! I love painters! I got you!!
Painters are inspiring. I have always loved the medium. Rich's mother and my sister are both painters. We have more original paintings hanging in our house from people we aren't related to than we have photographs of ourselves. It takes a different kind of patience than photography. Photographers are waiting for that perfect moment. Perfect light, perfect breeze. They often wake up early or stay out late to catch it if it ever comes. And often it doesn't and they must return later to try again - if they are able to. Then after that moment happens it is captured and they can leave the scene and go get Starbucks.
One of the many painters I shared a cabin with painting in Heather Meadows in Mount Baker National Park.
Painters show up before that perfect moment and stay after it has come and gone. The place as it is in any given moment is all they need. They stay through the sunrise and into the hazy afternoon. They study the place, watch the changes. And then they create what they want to share with the world with pens and brushes. They are able to emphasize details I can't even see with my eyes. It takes a lot of slowing down.
I have trouble slowing down sometimes. People who know me well are cracking up while reading that line. Creating slows me down because I am happiest when I am creating. I create for my job and for my home every day. It might not feel necessary at the time but everything I create is best when I have stopped to study my surroundings. For work it means looking beyond just how many providers are in the data and studying their behavior. At home it is asking why ingredients or tools are used in recipes to understand what I can change to make it more enjoyable for Rich and I. For photography it can mean...missing the perfect colors in the clouds right before the sunset.
The sky was super hot pink and red 5 minutes before I took this shot. And I missed it because I was hunting for a parking spot. With photography I don't even have time to park my car!
It always feels like studying a landscape is a luxury I just don't have. It can be difficult to apply to photography. Often I am carrying around my camera waiting for something to jump out at me. When I see something I often have minutes if not seconds to take a photo and move on. Often I am already rushing to get to a meeting or an appointment. I can't finishing creating a photo later in my office at home. What the camera captures is what it captures. And while post processing can help it isn't a magical substitute for getting the shot right.
It gets to a point where even when I finally do have time to sit and study a place, I am so obsessed with not missing out I forget to focus on anything else. I actually had that opportunity last weekend. There were spots I spent a lot of time at, hours even. And I now understand I did not use that time wisely. Instead of focusing on patterns in the fall colors and the layers on rocks on the mountains I was waiting for the fog to lift away from the strata-volcano. I didn't see the trees growing out of the side of the cliff and the water reflecting the clouds because I was waiting for same clouds to move out of my way. I couldn't get over the fear of missing out and I didn't take the time to observe and appreciate my surroundings. I had a camera - a very expensive and powerful camera. But in those moments, unlike the painters, I wasn't an artist. That fancy rental couldn't make me an artist on it's own. And it is something I deeply regret.
I took this while rushing the dog home from the park so I could get going on other errands before the stores started closing. It could had been a super cool shot if I stopped to look at the cool colors behind the tree and made sure the gosh-darn leaves were actually in focus. Don't even know why I have a watermark. Not even sure if I want people finding my site because of this monstrosity.
Gosh-darnit.
I returned to the cabin well after everyone else had finished having dinner and I saw what the painters saw. What they shared showed me the value in patience and observation. I don't know how to paint. But that didn't mean I can't learn from them. I might not always have the luxury to sit and stare at a scene so I can create a masterpiece later, but I need to learn to slow down and see the details around me. And I believe I can do this because I do it every day for my job.
I work with data. And it is insane how quickly that data can change from day to day. The questions can come at me with urgency and I do not have the time to be like, "well, let me look at all the providers independently and look at all the tiny little details about everyone." What actually ends up happening is I figure out why the question is being asked so I know exactly what I am looking for. And I understand the land enough to bring out the piece they need to solve their problem. I have already done a lot of the work a head of time so when I go to "take a picture" (have you figured out where this is going?) - BOOM! WHAM! I get that out right at the magic hour. I can work very quickly and efficiently because I have trained myself to recognize patterns and I have already memorized many of the details. I am ready for that perfect moment and I can deliver it in perfect focus.
Landscapes are like data models. Landscapes are constantly changing in small ways and the terrain is different everywhere I go. But I can stop and learn to understand them. I can study geology (which is awesome) and meteorology (which is awesome) to know where to start looking when I find a new place. I can figure out what it is I am trying to show the world before I arrive at the location. And when I run past two cute little leaves while rushing to other appointments I will see the fall colors I am surrounded in and the blue sky from a perfect day that was supposed to be rainy and two tiny little leaves that were just coming into the world only to immediately be affected by the changing season. And I will have the gosh-darn camera in focus. Gosh. Darnit.
I am posting these shamelessly without the artist permission in hopes they reach out to me in anger to tell me to take this photo down giving me the opportunity to get their names and perhaps buy a piece.
I am thankful to all the beautiful painters that were at the Baker Lodge that weekend. And if any ever reach out to me I will make sure all of them are queued up to be a featured artist here at RogueMusings.com. In the meantime I am lucky to come home with beautiful photos from Mount Baker. I am going to study them and take my time in post-processing. And next time I am not going to blow the opportunity to be a real artist.
A look back at Baker Lodge surrounded in the fall colors before heading home. It wasn't that I still hadn't learned when I ran out to take this half-assed photo. It was raining and I needed Starbucks.
New photos coming soon!