I’ve been working lately with an app called Mextures, which allows me to add incredible effects and textures to photos. The above shot of St Lawrence went from being a “meh” daytime color shot to dark, atmospheric, and mysterious. I created a composition which contrasted the feathery texture of trees, the smooth architecture of the roof, and the cathedral spire on the right side to anchor and frame the whole thing. I was sure to include a cross to indicate the purpose of the building. For the sky, I used Mextures with a combination of textures and filters until I got the distressed, vintage, old-time look I was going for, without sacrificing any clarity in the roof line.

It is time to redefine how I feel about this word, success. What it even means to me. Someone exhibiting a photo of mine recently adjured me to raise the price. I said no, I wanted it to be purchased and hung somewhere that its new owner would enjoy it. She said, making money is the whole point though. That made me think. Is making money why I do this? Photography is a lot of work for me. I spend hours every single day on it, and when I’m not working on it, i’m often reading about it, studying it, thinking about it, planning my next opportunity.

So what is the point of all that? Is it to make money? I probably shouldn’t say this in such a public forum, but really the point for me is not about monetary reward. It’s about doing something that pushes me to think hard, work hard, create something I love – and at the end of the day, to just create. To make new things. To express something, and then do it a little better the next day. If people like my work, that’s awesomely great. I want people to look at my work, think about it, have a reaction.

Just for the record, the image at the top of the page here, the horse, is what I call success. Being able to create something that I like as much as this. Is it perfect? Will it bring me money and fame? No. Will it get “likes” on Instagram? Probably. But does it make me feel successful and that my effort was worth it? YES. Times ten. Times infinity. This is passion, and it has no price.

The gallery space exhibiting my new works, Fractals Cafe, has added an exhibit of an actual skull and crossbones. It’s in a glass case, which gives it lots of reflective possibilities. I took this quick capture with my iPhone, capturing myself behind the skull. I later regretted not having my Lumix with me, because this is calling for a double exposure. Stay tuned, I’m sure I’ll be providing that in the future.

As subject matter, I like creating images about things wearing out over time, and the reality of wearing out myself. There would be no life without aging over time, not to mention entropy. There isn’t anything inherent in bones that is dark, unless you don’t want to be reminded that you are mortal and will at some point “thin out”, as Woody Allen put it. My own approach to mortality is to welcome it, since I can’t stop it anyway. If I’m going to die some day, and don’t know which day that will be, my best course of action is to make everything I do count for something right now. Skulls are a reminder of that inevitability, and there is no reason to fear it.

While setting up my current exhibit at Framed on 4th in Hendersonville, I noticed a few antique cameras around the shop, and put them together into a still life. Normally, I don’t create still lives, but if I see accidental ones, I’ll be all over it. However, these cameras screamed to be put together on a glass-topped table where I could also get reflections of the wonderful graphic faces.

My Leica lens does such a perfect job that I barely needed to edit this image, but did add a vintage black-and-white film effect, because that’s more like what an image off of one of these babies would have looked like. Who could resist?

Lately I’ve been submitting work to critique groups, and participating in general camera-club activities. This is supposed to be a good thing to do, which is why I’m doing it. But I’m not kidding myself that it is actually doing me any good. My work tends to be abstract, provocative, and concept-based. I have no interest in creating pretty pictures. To me, a perfect picture of a rose conveys nothing; I’d rather see the real rose.

Give me a destroyed-film emulsion-filtered nostalgia piece any day. I recently created these two shown here, and both give me a feeling of longing for something which is in the past. Maybe it’s the retro, grungy thing, it makes things look firmly rooted in the past, and not the better for wear. I don’t like to dress up the truth, either verbally or in my art. A simple mood is worth more than perfectly color-matched foliage.

I enjoyed creating these two images, and love seeing them. The past haunts our minds and sometimes clouds how we see the present. It’s my gift to myself, to actualize that feeling in photos.

I took the above photo years ago, with my Nikon N70, using a Kodak film called technical panchromatic, or tech pan for short. Tt was an amazing film that practically sucked up light; you could capture incredible detail and it had such a fine grain that it could even be difficult to focus your enlarger. The only downside, perhaps, was that it took special chemicals to develop. I never liked developing film and usually had someone else do it so that I didn’t have to fuss with those reels in the dark. But I never stopped loving working with film. When digital cameras came down in price, and up in quality enough, I made the switch (just a bit reluctantly) but quickly went all in on digital. I’ve never regretted that choice, but I still look back on my darkroom days with fondness, nostalgia even. The smell of the chemicals, the red light, the paper safe … there was never a time that I didn’t get a thrill when seeing an image emerge on paper in the developer tray.

This image, which I think of as a “found still-life”, was in the window of an antique store in Cambridge, MA. Antique stores always have a trove of such items, and this one was particularly well chosen.

The day was a little sunnier than I would have liked; this type of location asks for moody skies and somber light. Still, I was able to get some interesting captures, and I’m working them up into meaningful images for my upcoming book, which I’m headfirst into right now.

Shot with Lumix GX85, Leica 25mm and Lumix 12-32 kit lens.

Of all the places in the Asheville area that my work could be exhibited, Fractals is surely the best fit. My work is expressive and abstract; idea-based and emotional. Nicholas Altman, owner of Fractals, had a quick and intuitive grasp of what I do with my art. For his displays, he chooses artists with a touch of the weird or unusual; what is a step or two outside of established culture, and he loves to play with juxtapositions of art and technology. The combination of deeply geeky involvement with culture, and general hip acceptance of what is different makes it perfect for my art. It is with gratitude and real pleasure that I announce a 12-month engagement at Fractals to display five of my abstract works.

They are, left-to-right and top-to-bottom:

Blowback. Collage of tunnel and forest

Chimera. Collage of tunnel and studio door

Distortion 3. A portrait divided into three slabs

Disjunction. A Japanese man and an American woman, right before Pearl Harbor.

Consider Arcturus. A collage of Native American symbols and an airplane hangar door, folded in on itself.

At last, my book about coffee shops is out. This one was very personal, since I spend so much time in coffee bars. I seek them out as places to sit and think, to be creative, to get inspiration, and sometimes to just get caffeinated and to socialize. These images represent what I see, what I look for, what comforts and inspires me in these wonderful venues.

Amazon link here: https://www.amazon.com/Laptops-Lattes-Shirley-Braley/dp/0368414906/

I’d love it if you choose to write a review after purchase. It helps the author turn out more work for your pleasure.

I have a fascination for trees and never tire of creating tree images. Near where I live, there are acres and acres of apple orchards which provide a never-ending amount of subject matter for my passion. But I don’t want to keep creating the same image over and over, tempting as it is. So i’ve reverted to another passion: abstraction. You might recognize the Photoshop effect “wind”, as well as “Sharpen Edges”, followed by a judicious amount of cropping and a blue B&W filter. Original image: Lumix GX85 ISO 200 12mm f/8.0 1/640 sec.