My First Event

This past week was my very first gallery-type event.  Local florist Abloom hosted a get together featuring five local artists.

I feel like a real grown-up artist now.. :-)

The whole thing was elating and stressful and probably good practice for my upcoming initiation into the world of art festivals in August.

The impossible choices of picking limited pieces to actually print for the show.  The logistics of getting everything assembled and transported over to the site.  The amount of time to get everything displayed.  (Double the original estimate and that was with Sterling's help.)  The last minute signing of limited edition paperwork and posting of prices.  Yikes!

While the event was wonderful, and I actually sold some pieces <shocked face>, I find that more and more often I almost have to divorce the process of taking the photos from the process of attempting to run a business marketing and selling said photos.  Its hard to feel inspired by flowers with a head full of accounting figures from working on my finance spreadsheets.  And when leading up to events its even harder to find the time to process pictures that have already been taken while trying to figure out if I have enough frames or if the matting will arrive on time.

visit Samantha Byrnes' online gallery 

"May everyone be happy..."

"May Everyone Be Happy"

Quite a few people rave about my flower pictures, but what many don't realize is that the published photos are simply a by-product of what's really going on.

For me, the act of going to the garden store, to the florist, to local parks, is a continuing journey of surprises where I discover unexpected treasures around every corner.

And the act of taking the photos is a moving meditation. Outside concerns fade away, the ongoing to-do lists and nagging voices cease to exist, and in a way time itself stops.

The begonias hanging in my loft

This weekend was a perfect example of both finding unexpected treasures and moving meditation where time stops. On Friday there was a sale of annuals at Tagawa Gardens. I dropped by in the afternoon looking 1) to replace some plants that hadn't fared well during the hail storm earlier in the week and 2) to maybe find some tiger lilies already in flower. Instead I found hanging pot upon hanging pot of huge tuberous begonias. And I was hooked. Luckily they were on sale, so the damage to my credit card wasn't too severe. One of the store employees had to actually bring me another cart, and the amassed plants barely fit into my car for the ride home. Many petaled flowers feeling strongly of Japan and chrysanthemums in hues of coral and white, red and golden orange. This morning I spent over four hours taking photos, and yet it seemed only maybe 30 minutes. The petals shone, and the scalloped edges glowed in the early morning light. Even now I'm having a hard time with the clock-based time of 1 am, feeling like it should be maybe 8 or 9 pm. One blossom in particular was reminiscent of a line from a Buddhist chant " May everyone be happy..."

visit Samantha Byrnes' online gallery 

Light Through Willow

An Indescribable "Something"

One can no more impose a technique in the dojo than impose a shot on a subject. They say in Zen that if you have to ask the question then you've missed the point, and that trying too hard is worse than not trying at all.  I've found this statement to be true is practically every situation.

So if you're asking what I mean by imposing technique then you're probably already trying the imposition.  Think of the difference between counting the steps as you dance and moving with the music...

Direct Light & Snoresville

The subject plant is the same in these two photos but one was forced and one wasn't.  And I have no idea what the plant called beyond something provided to me by the owner of Babylon Floral out of his yard :-)

With photography I've often found that if you go into a session or a shot with the intention of capturing a specific image you've already missed it. Granted you may capture a technically correct photo, but the essence, the soul, the je ne sais quoi will be markedly absent.  You might call it a downside to working with natural light.  Because you can't adjust the sun.  And because the light is the difference between a boring shot and one that steals your breath.

 This morning's photo session was an especially good example.

Peony Before Squeaking Kitties

I picked up some great peonies from the grocery store yesterday on my way home from work and was attempting to capture the light on the petals.  Imposing an idea, a shot, and then starting to get frustrated because what I was seeing and attempting to capture didn't match what the camera was recording.  The lighting wasn't right.  Frustrated when dealing with camera equipment and top-heavy containers full of water and flowers is never a good thing.

"Mmmm.  Salad..."

Enter Maggie, who decided to get friendly with one of the Gerbera Daisy plants sitting off to the side of where I was working...  Evidently they smelled like salad.

And since Max had tried to snack on them the night before I wasn't about to take any chances that her intentions were benign.

Peony After Squeaking Kitties

And then I got distracted by the light on the daisies...  And forgot about what I was trying to do with the peonies.  

And by the time I went back to the peonies after dealing with squeaking, unapologetic kitties and daisies, the light through the willow tree branches had adjusted to a better angle.

Impatience with a situation tends to come from trying to impose my own desires on that situation instead of stepping back and letting it be.

Flowers lit by light through the willow tree.

visit Samantha Byrnes' online gallery