“Creation” is my vision of the genesis of mass and matter in the swirling sea of the universe’s energy. The image is a Moeraki boulder in the tide on the southeast coast of the South Island of New Zealand.
I used a Sony A7RII with a FE 16-35mm F/4 lens at 17mm, aperture f/14, shutter speed 2.0 seconds, ISO 50, using a 6x ND filter. In order to remove any distractions I cropped the image to remove the horizon and sky. The original image was made on a rainy overcast day and the image was quite flat. I used radial filters in Lightroom and in Camera Raw in Photoshop to increase the whites and highlights in the water while darkening the water. Adjustment layers were used to increase contrast in the boulder itself and to augment brightness of a local area of waves. I used a vignette to darken the borders and increase the attention on the rock and swirling waves around it.
This image is my vision of the genesis of mass and matter in the swirling sea of the universe's energy. The ocean is from where all life evolved and is symbolic for birth and creation. The boulder is the mass created by the energy in the fertile ocean water. The waves represent the energy and forces that creates, molds and erodes all inanimate objects.
Tea Time by Angela Holm
This is my favorite day of the year! But things have been so odd of late, ever since Duke Burkel has disappeared. The village seems so desolate and on edge. It makes me question if I should have the party today. Although I am the only one who attends! But will it be safe to be out in the forest alone? The things I've never questioned before. I love this little nook in the woods.
I remember when Edward first brought me to this location. He spread out a most lovely picnic for us! It was complete with berries, fresh cream, and shortbreads! I can't believe he got Bas to make them! Edward was always so romantic. It was such a magical day and so long ago...I can not imagine what would have happened if his father had found out about us. The Duke would have been furious. None of it matters now... he is gone. They both are.
What is happening to this place!? Are we safe here anymore? Well, who would want a daughter of a tailor? What good would I do them, assuming this is about power and riches. Oh, my mind... thankfully no one reads my inner rants! Let me leave this behind... I have moved on- today is a day to celebrate, love and beauty!
It is Tea Party Day! Time to dress!
Gifford Pinhole National Forest by Brita Enflo
As someone who is getting re-introduced to photography as an art form, I find myself constantly looking outward in hopes to determine what that says about me and help me figure out what I want to convey. With each roll, I am experimenting with something new, and constantly pushing myself forward -- whether with a different camera, lens, film, technique, or subject matter. What has stayed consistent, is getting the most enjoyment of reliving the moments of shooting with a pinhole camera. When I took this image, I was hiking with friends who helped me carry my gear, helped me set up the tripod, and helped me.
Panther Creek Falls in the Gifford Pinchot National Forest -- I took advantage of good weather and patient friends to bring along a finicky camera to take photos.
The Old Man by Jennie Baker
I walked around the corner and saw the empty chair.
The nearby memorial, already a week old, was falling down, but people were still bringing flowers in memory of the beloved old man. Everyone who walked by stopped to mourn, to hug each other, and to tell me about him.
His welding shop had been a hub of support for a struggling community since the 1970s. He often made cooking grills for people moving into the neighborhood who could not afford appliances or even cookware. He’d always welcomed neighborhood kids into the shop, to teach them a skill, to keep them off the streets and out of harm’s way. Over the years, in addition to raising their own children and grandchildren, he and his (late, ex-) wife fostered more than 500 kids.
His old-age superpower was falling asleep anywhere and everywhere. The ladies at the nearby Denny’s said that he would come in every day, and that they loved him so much that they'd just let him snore.
He also used to sit out in front of his store, and he’d greet each passerby with warmth and delight. He was a constant fixture and a neighborhood icon.
This old chair sits in the middle of what was. Much of his work had been cleared away a few years ago, part of a sale of 40 years of junk and art and machinery, but some of it is still gathered around.
A plastic bottle on the table waits for someone who will not be coming back. Tasks are left undone. The building that housed his shop - and his home of - is locked up tight, and its future is uncertain.
Gene Gora, 85, was found murdered on May 10, 2018. There have been no arrests.
The Window by Lane Rollins
Take a look this image and what do you see? You might only see a shop window, but this image represents the hopes and dreams of a family if not a whole community. This is not a new business. Look at the phone number, it only has seven digits. It turns out that Courtesy Janitorial Services has been around since 1956. Even the artwork tells you something. The color of the skin on the character is brown, much like the owners and the historic population of the Alberta neighborhood. The Obama campaign poster is another symbol of hope. This was the first President that looks like them and experienced many of the same prejudices. The other poster is "Honoring Our Past Creating Our Legacy", a project for Alberta Main Street. This is how Alberta Main Street describes the project:
“Alberta Main Street is working with local artists to develop permanent public art in the form of historical markers that honor and document the history of the African American community on Alberta Street and are inspired by stories collected from past and present African American community members.”
Blue Skies and Airplane by Michael Montez
It wasn’t until the third grade that my family discovered that I could not see objects in the distance. Anything farther than 2 feet away appeared blurry, out of focus, and not very sharp or crisp. This made reading the board (chalk at the time) difficult, but I didn’t know that.
On our way back from my grandparents home in downtown Los Angeles, my parents pointed out the car window and asked me, “Michael, look at that airplane. Do you see how low it is?” I looked in the direction they were pointing, but struggled to identify an airplane against the sky blue background. That’s how my parents and me found out I couldn’t see. That week we went to the eye doctor, who confirmed my poor vision. Glasses were ordered and at the age of eight, I was the first and (I think) only kid in my third grade class wearing glasses. I have needed glasses just to survive ever since. For the past thirty-five years, I have not been able to see an airplane against the background of the sky without them.
That all changed on May 31st when I had photorefractive keratectomy (PRK) eye surgery. Overall, the surgery is pretty painless and quick. However, the healing process is lengthier than LASIK eye surgery (the more commonly known laser eye surgery). It’s been a few days since the surgery and I can see pretty well. I am testing at 20/20 vision as of this writing, but the it’s going to be a few weeks before I stop seeing halos and ghosts and experiencing chronic dry eyes.
It’s been a pretty incredible experience. One day you are reliant on something to the point of life or death. Then, suddenly, the need is gone, lifted like a curse. I feel very lucky 1) to be able to afford such a luxury, 2) live in a country where such a luxury is even available, 3) live in a time where the science exist to correct this type of deformation, 4) to have lived with a family who was interested in my vision in the first place.
The Current by Michelle Swanson
What do you see? A bridge, A sunset, A current, maybe. Perhaps, hidden from view Are the sounds of Water lapping, The creak of a hull, Excited whispers from nervous tourists, And the boisterous exclamations from the seasoned crew. Each of us makes ready, Because the time is now. Stations to the set! Cast off down-hauls! Hoist the headsails! Suddenly, The feel of the breeze, The pull of the tide, The swaying of the ship. Our adventure has begun. We smoothly glide under the bridge, As we pass out of today.