The Boston Lobster Massacre

Digital camera sensors sometimes have a hard time dealing with heavily saturated images and this is a pretty good example. This was shot at high ISO without a flash, and the sensor obviously was overwhelmed by the mass of red shell, in a reflective stainless steel dish, with warm interior lights the only illumination. That said, hey, it's the holidays and red is the theme, right? These guys were formerly a gang of Maine lobsters plucked from their watery world and sold to our Boston rellies on their way back from Camden (see earlier post). And so, this was dinner on Christmas eve 2008 - a glowing red mass of crustaceans, accompanied by potato and green salads. And all for about US$4 per pound.  

Home of the White Christmas

Camden is a tiny fishing town in Maine where it seems the prosperity of the eighties (188os) never waned. Gorgeous homes enveloped in snowbanks, weekender cottages clinging lakeside or perched on tiny islands, a town library so grand it would be a fine home for the Magna Carta. Trails wind through numerous state parks and reserves and an outfitter's store on the outskirts of town does a fine trade in renting skates, skies and snow shoes. In short, it's a (Hallmark) photographer's dream. These berries were in a planter outside a store on Main Street, coated in a layer of ice by a steady stream of water melting from the awning above and they seemed to me to to represent the town's entire holiday appeal.

Brunch on a branch

Snow swept into New York this past Friday in the first true storm of the season, turning the Big Apple into a vast playground for kids of all ages - and for a few of the furrier inhabitants. I was in the East Village visiting friends and dashed out into a nearby park as the downfall intensified. There were plenty of smiles as people - and quite a few of their pets - enjoyed the fresh snow before the plows, salt-spreaders and shoveling turned it into the brown slushy mess that commuters would be cursing a few hours later. 

I'm not usually one for the "Hallmark moment" pictures that snow encourages, but the nonchalance of this tyke after swiping a snack and choosing a snowy perch was too hard to resist.  

Petals

Yes, a bit of Photoshop manipulation. But it pops doesn't it? It's one thing about the digital age of photography I've very happily embraced and need to learn so much more about and that's the universe of presentation possibilities. Your perspective and perception can change so much in the way a photo is presented, and in this case a bit of judicious cropping and some creative bordering has - as least I hope! - led the eye to the strip of sharp focus running across the flower. I love playing with depth of field, especially when using a fast lens like a f/1.8, and this is why.

Getting a grip

One of the most surprising aspects of diving into professional photography has been discovering the fun of family portraits. Kids can often be a handful - one day I'm going to put together a gallery of "pulled-face-photos" that would be a complete riot - but the energy and creativity they inject is a reason to pick up a camera in the first place. But keeping your own mind agile and creative can be a challenge when juggling the logistics of posing the family and constantly moving lights and backdrops. So I'm quietly chuffed when I can capture some small moment amid the hubbub, like the tiny fingers of little Matt, a three-month-old from a shoot this weekend.

Muse in Green

Sylvie during a stroll around the gardens that surround the San Angel Inn in Mexico City's south. The picture rather shamelessly flouts a few photographic strictures about composition but it's all in a good cause. The colors - well, color - just pop beautifully and really bring out Sylv's gorgeous features; really what a good portrait is all about. I love the errant strand of hair encroaching over Sylv's left eye, and the catchlights in her eyes really sparkle. I'm also enamored of Sylv's flair when wearing any of the pashminas she takes along in chilly weather, and this one blends so nicely with the lush lawn of the gardens. It's beyond me why I'm not trying to take photos of her on an hourly basis, although perhaps for the sake of matrimonial bliss I'm better off with once in a while.

Shooting sounds

Taking a camera to a live performance by a band has always been one of my favorite aspects of photography - I love trying to capture the intensity on the faces of those on stage. It's actually tremendously challenging, technically and artistically. I never use flash, which can overpower the lighting onstage, and so have to judge my settings very carefully. I often look at the pictures afterward and wonder "Was it really like that?" Here's a few shots from recent outings showing the crazed fun of an eighties cover band playing a corporate gig in Orlando, the horn section of Boston's Giant Kings playing in Cambridge, and Tim Wright of Mexico City's own Los Ajusco Mountain Boys, who played this past weekend at The Black Horse.

Morning has broken

Being a convert to cat adoration, I'm still often surprised by Sasso's smarts. I had plans to remain under the covers this morning until I'd finished The Big Sleep by Raymond Chandler, but with scarcely a dozen pages unread, my plans were thwarted by feline impatience. Sass had watched me weave to the bathroom, throw on a t-shirt and make like the next move would be to the kitchen - the normal routine. The next step is usually a stroll to the cocina for breakfast and the (virtual) morning papers, all accompanied by the skitter of cat claws, kibble crunching and the scratchy violence of kitty litter being cast about in the laundry. But this morning I headed back to the bed, grabbed up Mr. Chandler and was diving back into Marlowe's troubles when an exposed foot received a few polite taps from a furry and padded paw. Just four taps. Not even a tickle. But defined and definitely purposeful. You're running late. This is not good for my schedule. Up. And so I went. Skitter. Crunch. Scatter.

Back to Washington

My previous life came calling in recent days and I dusted off the suit, rummaged through the closets for an overcoat, and found myself on the old United 822/823 milk run between DF and DC. A little less than three days later I fly out with work in hand, a new camera body (a second Canon 40D - you may have seen the earlier post about my other 40 having "issues"), and renewed fondness for Washington in chilly times. For those who may not be familiar with the World Bank, perhaps a glimpse or two will help. This is a light fixture from the second sub-basement level. It's a good taste of the rest of the structure, which underwent a massive makeover in the nineties and emerged a post-modern edifice of glass, aluminum and polished concrete (often mistaken for marble).  I was drawn by the subtleties in tone, and the sharp edges and angles that are so prevalent in the building (and yes, I'm being metaphorical to boot).