Good Morning Florence

<- Click here

An oarsman snaps
His way along the
Mirrored Arno.

The light enwraps
Its coat over the
Ancient feeling.

Canon 40D, PS4: custom brushes, Topaz, AlienSkin: Exposure4: Color Slide: Agfa RSXII 100 <- My favorite film ever!

Sunday In The Park

<- Click here
The lad comes with his mom and dad... his receiver. And he tosses with all his might. Aiming high and far, the thing spins like a bullet. And he tosses and tosses. And dreams...

Geek Stuff

My Canon 7D through the long, long Canon EF 70-300mm f/4-5.6 IS USM Lens, Then afterward I searched for my feelings in PS-CS4 with custom brushes and textures.

Poster #4

<-Click here
Have you noticed that images come to us as sequels, even though we've never seen the original! This fella was Ethiopian, and the race's runner up. He came a long way to run a little farther that morning.

---

here's the virgin image from my FlashCard. Once again the picture came through my big ole Canon EF 70-300mm f/4-5.6 IS USM Lens. But I teased the image up through both Bokeh and SnapArt from my AlienSkin arsenal. This series has been terrific fun for me. Is it good for you :-)

Poster #2

<- click here
Odd thing about red haired guys, there aren't many of us... especially in the movies and TV. And when we do show up, we're usually the sidekicks, or the other guy. In the movies, red headed guys rarely get the girl - as opposed to real life where we ALWAYS do. But I digress. See, here're two redheaded guys crossing the finish line simultaneously. Cool.

A Child Is A Future Probe

<- Click here

Buried deep within our children: a time capsule. To be opened... When?


***

At Andreas request.... Here's the virgin image from my FlashCard. Comments?

The Gliding Light

<-Click here

Most mornings he glides past.
Effortless.
A body matching the road.
They dance.
But which one
I wonder
Leads?


***

Here's the virgin image from my FlashCard... Comments?

April Sail #9

<- Click here
Epic?
Jeremy Hopkins spends his life at the helm.Across oceans, through inland waterways, lakes and rivers - he rides the bridge and regardless of how things pitch, his muscles compensate to craft and sea. Confidence wrapped in experience.

I've been diddling with the things that make up an epic image. Think this one's getting there? Lemme lnow, K?

***

Here's the virgin picture from my Flash Card

Florence #21: Masques

<- Click here
We like to change ourselves. Here in America there's outrage over the medical addition of bodily bulk of baseball players. The outrage is being reported on 24 hour news channels by anchor girls through lips packed with chemically enhanced bulk, set in faces tightened by medically enhanced surgeries, sitting atop the medically enhanced bulk of twin, um... installations.

Okay... okay... when male athletes add bodily bulk to enhance their economic power, that's such a baaaaaad example to youth that they need to be fired, ruined, reviled, and jailed. Meantime when Miss Universe alumni become starlets, newsbabes, or denizens of single bars... that's ... that's... Well that's simply the result of the healthy example of Barbi dolls. Right?

It is so confusing. But people like to change themselves. We like masques. Costumes. Fantasy. As long as the changers aren't hiding behind steroid disguises, right?

Posh & David Arrive In LA

<-Click here
"Hmmm... well he does look like a big one. And colorful, yeah - I'll give him that. But, well, a tad past prime wouldn't you say?"

"Not as bad as her... My, she is white, isn't she? Except where she's painted up and what are those markings on her back?"

"I think... uh... yeah... They seem to be tats my dear. I guess they're cute for a night, but the things get old, don't you gather?"

"What I gather is that she looks kind of kicked around... In fact I'm not sure she's still got a full load up of air. Kinda soft at the top. You know what I'm saying?"

"Well they sure seem a pair. But you tell me that someone actually paid for this used set? To perform in some sort of game that nobody here watches? How odd."

"Actually it's not odd. No... the game's got no place to insert advertisements, so no broadcaster's interested in putting it on."

"Well how's it do so well everywhere else?"

"Oh, they use taxes to run television so everybody pays to produce the games."

"What? Whether they're interested in them or not?"

"Uh-huh. So now that these two have faded from the free ride over there..."

"Somebody here's, like, paying for them?"

"Sigh... Well anyway... David's sure a big guy. Probably looked pretty hot once upon a time."

"I guess, but that's a lot of moolah to pay for hot."

"Yeah. Maybe it is time to tax the rich. What do you think?"

"I thought that back when Paris Hilton ran a red light or something."

"Whatever... Hey, you thinking they're gonna break out here?"

"Dunno: The public can erect an effective fence against manufactured celebrities. Remember Kelly Clarkson?"

"Who?"

Vicarious

<- Click here

Got rocked today by a posting at Passion N' Frames. Click here to see it. PNF has cranked the power-art dial beyond 10.

And it left me wondering how to-do-dat? How to take an image from the Fourth Of July picnic I'm working on this week - and ramp up the pep. And I also wondered if you would find the image - accessible? If it would leave you going "Wow!" and "Hmmmmm...." - thinking AND feeling what I enjoyed as this image revealed itself.

Background: A momentary downpour submerged the party for some minutes. At first the children raced with the adults toward the trees, when abruptly one screeched, "KICKBALL!" And everyone under 15 scampered back to the softball diamond - playing again like... like kids on the Fourth of July. And I got a chance to picture their wonderfulness, and feel my legs, arms, and body happy like... like... a cavorting boy in the rain.

June Was Bustin' Out...

<- Click here

Here in Pennsylvania, seasons nourish our projects. Regardless of the granular idea or feeling that rustles about in our creative cranial places, it’s the seasons which manipulate the possibilities we face in expressing ourselves. Now I know many visitors to ImageFiction come from places without climate swings. And others live in spots where the oscillations are either small or quite rapid.

Here in South Eastern Pennsylvania I enjoy a full measure of seasonal performances. And regardless of my artistic intention to impose an inspiration upon nature – more often I’m its servant, my hormonal dance gliding to its rhythms and possibilities: How frequently seasons are the dog and my whims its tail.

Yesterday I was beside the Brandywine Creek, which meanders through Chester County just East of me here in Lancaster. It was the sort of afternoon, which would dissolve if you thought about it too much. The sort of Saturday in which June had produced a final magnificent blossom – as if to say with a smirk, “Okay July, top this one, I dare you.” That’s the sort of taunt that sets an artist’s agenda. Facing the full bloom of a boasting month, my charge is to remember it at you. The question’s so simple: can you feel summer on The Brandywine Creek?

Floating By Ted

<- Click here

Upon a time I did sports photography. Long enough to realize how hard it is. Long enough to make some money at it. Long enough to realize how good the best craft-sports artists were. How much astonishing work it would take to approach what they did on their worst days. So I stopped doing that. See, you not only have to want to take good sports pictures... you have to love sports. Understand them the way a jazz musician understands scales. Whoa... that is so wonderful when you see it. So I learned enough to become a very satisfied spectator of, not so much sports, but great sports photographers.

Still, every now and then an easy shot floats by. And I'm so very pleased that I can sometimes make my camera sing like that jazz guy does with his horn. When you take a terrific image, of magnificent athletes... for an instant you appreciate them even more. And in my case, it's nice to know that my muscle memory still recalls all of those thousands of sports shots I took ... upon a time. And lets me do this - when two guys do this.

Life is good.

Christmas Cow

<- Click here
Forget your reindeer... Forget red noses. Here'ze a red cow. Hey! Y'godda' problem widdat?

Merry, happy, and blissful - Christmas everybody.

Ted

Barnstormers Fleeing?

<-Click here
From way back there, sometimes it's hard to figger out what's going on. Like suppose this lad thought that all the guys who made his team the league champs... Suppose it seemed that way off in the distance those giants were... were leaving. No... Hey! Suppose they left? Suppose the general manager, the coach, the marketing director, and the corporate sales directors all quit. Well, hey... that'd be some story, huh?

And suppose that none of the Lancaster newspapers, TV or radio stations reported why every important executive abruptly quit right after the new Barnstormer baseball team won its division and league titles! Well, that'd sure leave this little fella down, right? It'd seem as if there was some sort of astonishing cover-up going on. If only he could see better. If only the rest of us could, maybe we'd know what the hell was going on, eh? WHY THE HELL DID EVERY ONE OF THEM QUIT? At Christmas time, izzat the best present to give to little Bleacher Boy?

Harvest Moon

<- Click here
First off, I shoulda' mentioned that the Lancaster Barnstormers first won their division and then won the Atlantic League Championship. They grabbed everything while I was up at The Cape. Lancaster county is very happy. Oddly, there were nincompoops that thought baseball wouldn't work in Lancaster. In fact, a politician from a township bodering on the city lost his job because he championed a ballpark there. Now it's up in the city, thousands and thousands of people come almost every night that they play, and life is nice.
It's a shame about the nincompoops. They have now turned their opposition against a convention center for the city which is in the heart of Amish Country. The nincompoops can't imagine how any organization would want to have its conventions here midst the gentle rolling hills of one of the prettiest historic places in America. They can't imagine how a grand new hotel and a convention facility could lure professional and commercial associations with headquarters in Philly, NYC, Baltimore or D.C. – places that are a morning's drive away, but just far enough away to ward off the commuters. Cylo the Barnstormer's cow likes to moon the visiting team. It'd be cool, during harvest season, if she'd moon our nincompoops. It'd give 'em something to imagine.

Outta' Here!

<- Click Here
I'm away until October 7th. Taking a vacation on Cape Cod. Pity I won't be around to see the Championship Series. Yep, the Lancaster Barnstomers clinched the Division Title and the Atlantic League series starts tonight, I think. Big Time in Lancaster. The kids play their hearts out, they're evenly matched and our new Clipper Stadium's a joy.

I think of the baseball experience a lot like other guys thing about a lake. They'll sit staring at it for hours and recharge themselves from the solace that laps at the shore. I get that kind of recharge from peering out at that beautiful diamond, see the players hustle around, eat the ballpark food, drink some beer, and laugh with friends. It might get better than that, but not often. Oh yea... Speakin' of "Outta' Here!".... Well then there's Cylo...

Here's my take in this season's baseball experience... It'd be cool to read what you think...

Ted On Baseball

Have a great week.... Go Stormers, er... Barnies... Wuddever... Just "GO!"

Raucus

<- Click Here
Cylo's a cow. She's the Lancaster Barnstormer's mascot. Problem with Cylo, is a lot like the problem with most of us... Just too laid back and mellow. You know what I'm sayin' here?

Incidentally, Cylo and her Barnstormers are in their second year. And they've made the league playoffs. Wonder what they'll do for an encore in 2007?

Enjoy... Lots of rules broken for this image. But Cylo's a gal who makes you want to break some rules. Won't make any sense posting the data for this thing. I used my wide angle lens. The ISO was in the 400 range. Beyond that... you guess, and you'll probably be correct.

On Leaping

<- Click Here
Too corny? I came upon these strangers at the ballpark Friday night. Son was up on a trash can where he'd been peering through the netting at the game. And Daddy asked him to leap. Then there was that look.

How many times, or places will things make you want to leap? Or at least not care about leaping? When's the last time you just turned when asked, and leapt? Can you imagine the absolutely safest leap possible? The one you've not only made, but you'd do it right now? Where you'd turn and just... fly? As I peered through that lens, for just the teeniest moment... I think I got a look on my face... like his. And sort of wished my Dad could put his hands out... just one more time.

The boy giggled. And leapt.

Friday, 9/22/06-8:07 pm:Canon EOS 20D, Meter Mode Auto,Exposure Program: Shutter Priority, ISO 1600, Lens Canon EFS 17-85, Focal Length 38 mm, Exposure Bias:-0.33, RAW

Multi-Tasking

<-Click Here
So you're at work, or maybe in a meeting. And you want to concentrate. There are even great big issues to focus on. Things that nobody could ever miss. Gordo concepts... They're gyrating around and zapping off colors in the glare of lights.

Then "POP!" You're ten years old at the ball game and something rings way up there in the distance. And... and... no matter how tempting and teasing and down right important the thing that brought you to that spot is... You're pulled to the ringing. And it's a phone. And you're supposed to answer it. But you're supposed to pay attention to the BIG IDEA in lights. Yet no, the phone. But no... the gyrating idea. And.. and... You're pulled all ways at once. And that's your work day. And maybe your meetings. And you wonder... Why isn't it as much fun as it used to be. And then, something else rings.... Way up there. Up high... and you can't help looking and wondering just what you're there for anymore...