Eric G. Rose – Where It's At

Dreaming of Spring

by on Feb.26, 2012, under Cameras, Family, Film, Friends, Location, Photographers, Travel

Eric Rose Fine Art Photography - Spring Crucus Photograph

My "Perfect" Crocus Photograph

As I write this, snow is swirling outside my office window.   Anyone who knows me well knows I hate winter.  Winter in Canada anyway.  October to May in the Caribbean, Thailand, Bali to name a few places would be infinitely more bearable.  Life is what it is and I am firmly planted here in Calgary Alberta, Canada for the foreseeable future.

Today my thoughts turned to a right of spring I participated in for at least 30 years.  It was the search for the perfect crocus photograph.  According to Wikipedia: “Crocus (plural: crocuses, croci) is a genus in the iris family comprising about 80 species of perennials growing from corms. Many are cultivated for their flowers appearing in autumn, winter, or spring. Crocuses are native to woodland, scrub and meadows from sea level to alpine tundra in central and southern Europe, North Africa and the Middle East, on the islands of the Aegean, and across Central Asia to western China.  The name of the genus is derived from the Greek krokos (κρόκος). This in turn is probably a loan word from a Semitic language, related to Hebrew כרכום karkōm, Aramaic ܟܟܘܪܟܟܡܡܐ kurkama, Persian and Arabic كركم kurkum, which mean saffron or saffron yellow.   The name ultimately comes from Sanskrit कुङ्कुमं kunkumam, unless the Sanskrit word is from the Semitic one.”

As the weather warms and the snow recedes I keep an eye out for a faint burst of purple peaking through the native grasslands around Calgary.  I  inherited this crocus fascination from my mother. I think deep down she was just as depressed about winter as I am.  As a child I would tag along with her as she hiked through local grasslands looking for that “perfect” crocus.  Many years later and several hundred photographs of crocuses printed my mother rewarded my efforts by purchasing a crocus photograph from one of my photographic students.  This picture was prominently displayed on our living room.  In all fairness it was a very nice photograph (grumble grumble).

My quest continued, now with a heightened sense of urgency, I had to replace that photograph in the living room with one of my own.  It was a pride thing.  The gauntlet had been thrown down.

It never happened.  My mother died from cancer but at least she had a crocus photograph that gave her pleasure and reminded her of the great times we had together.  However my quest continued unabated.

Jump forward a bunch of years to an afternoon spent in Dry Island Buffalo Jump Provincial Park with a group of photographers from my Large Format Users Group.  I started this group around 2006 to promote the use of large format film cameras in Calgary.  Naturally a side benefit was meeting and becoming friends with a great bunch of photographers.  On this day however I had my Nikon D70s equipped with a razor sharp Nikkor 60mm macro lens by my side.  No pretty large format landscapes for me today, it was crocus day!

After two hours of climbing hills, sliding down into steep gullies just to climb up the other side I finally found my crocus.  There were no trumpets.  Charlton Heston did not appear as Moses and point to this perfect flower with his God given staff.  Nor was the light right.  Urgh!  After several moments of disgust I thought I might as well take the shot and see if I could do something with it in Photoshop.  Heck if you can make ugly people look like runway models in Photoshop I should be able to fix the lighting.

My tripod would not allow me to get down to the level I wanted so my LowePro pack was pressed into service.  A few errant sprigs of  grass were removed (yes I am one of those, get over it) focus was adjusted and I was ready to make my photograph.  Then a miracle happened, a cloud covered the sun.  Thanks mom, I am sure you were watching me.  Hopefully you find this shot worthy of your mantel in heaven.

The photo may not be perfect in your eyes and maybe you have better ones yourself.  Personally I am happy with this one and have ended my quest.  I have not taken another crocus picture since.  Mission accomplished.

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Innocence

by on Feb.14, 2012, under Cameras, Family

Innocence (or guiltlessness) is a term used to indicate a lack of guilt, with respect to any kind of crime, sin, or wrongdoing. In a legal context, innocence refers to the lack of legal guilt of an individual, with respect to a crime.

The lamb is a commonly used symbol of innocence’s nature. In Christianity, for example, Jesus is referred to as the “Lamb of God”, thus emphasizing his sinless nature. Other symbols of innocence include children, virgins, acacia branches (especially in Freemasonry), non-sexual nudity, and the color white.

Tamara Picking Clover - Eric Rose Fine Art Photography

The Innocence of Youth

 

The photo above was taken with a Nikon F2 and probably my old trusty Nikkor 43-86 zoom on Kodachrome 64 film.  This is my oldest daughter who just recently turned 30.  She still exhibits the same wonderment and zest for life as she did 28 years ago, but now tempered with life experience.  Is the innocence still there?  Sure it is.  It will always be there even if it has to work it’s way to the surface every once in awhile.  She has the strength to insure no one will ever take that part away from her.  Whether she believes in God or not, her spirit was given to her by the Creator and will be welcomed home when that time comes.  Hopefully not for many years to come as she has so much spirit to share with those around her.

Sometimes bad things happen to even the most innocent.  Think of the souls lost in Syria right now.  Babies and mothers blown to bits by a mad man.  When people lose their innocence it is usually at the hands of the guilty, if you can call the opposite of innocent – guilt. However these unfortunate victims of murder in Syria have not really lost their innocence, just their worldly projection of it.  Innocence is within the spirit, which now rests with God.

Those that have that special ability to make others feels special, whether it’s their own child, extended family or close friends are special in themselves.  They are a rarity in today’s “me” world.  These special people are selfless and work long hours, many over looked, to insure the quality of life for those around them is the best.

I want to talk now about someone in our family who is one of these very special people.   I have only known her for around ten years but in that short time have learned to love her.  Every time we visit she goes out of her way to make us feel special even though at the same time she is working a very demanding job and running a very active household.  Juanita is her name, not that would mean anything to many of you, but this is one person that should not remain nameless in a world of sensory clutter.  Nothing she has done will make the evening news.  She won’t appear as a trending item on Twitter. Nor will she have hours and hours of coverage devoted to her by CNN as she fights the biggest battle of her life.  This person who could have done anything in her life devoted all her waking energy to the well being of others.  Juanita worked in an old folks home for most of her adult life.  She choose to work in a position that gave her a very hands on relationship with those in her care.  Her spirit and innocent light infused those around her.  Juanita is the ultimate “mother hen” even taking on the job as head contract negotiator for the care workers at her place of work.

Juanita and her husband Gerald brought up three lovely, caring and equally “innocent” children into adulthood.  Each of their children have been infused with the spirit of their mother.

Juanita has been struck with a inoperable case of cancer.  Bad things happen to good people.  Just as they happen to bad people.  There is an equality there that doesn’t seem fair.  Why would God allow that?  Why would God allow a child to lose his or her little life as in Syria?  From God’s perspective, that life is not lost.  God is able to restore to that child their life, so no loss is suffered on the part of the child.  Life is not lost to the One who can restore it.

What about the grief that parents and family experience?  In our loss, the presence of God is available for us to experience His strength, His comfort, His sustaining love and assurance in the face of the evil that exists.  God sustains those who grieve for those He calls to Himself.

Juanita’s brothers, sisters and parents have flown to Abbotsford, BC where she lives to offer support and encouragement.  This is one very close family.  In the pictures my wife brought back Juanita still has that special smile.

I’m not writing a eulogy here, Juanita is still with us.  I can feel the warmth of her smile as I think of her.  Juanita is a unique person who deserves all the blessing, prayers or positive vibes any of you reading this can send her.  She deserves it.  Juanita has the fight of her life ahead of her.  She has spent her entire life helping others.  Now it our turn to help this very special person in any way we can.

Juanita has that special innocence.  She still has that special ability to get excited about clover flowers just as my daughter did 28 years ago, even though her world around her is anything but easy.

 

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The Wildrose Brewery

by on Feb.05, 2012, under Cameras, Developing, Location

Wildrose Brewery Vats and Kegs - image taken by Eric Rose Fine Art Photographer

I spent a wonderful afternoon at the Wildrose Brewery a couple of years ago.  I had spotted this place about a year before while at a farmers’ market.  The brewery is housed in an old decommissioned Canadian Army base .  What was more than likely a storage building for machinery now housed these gleaming vats full of God’s special nectar.

I lugged my backpack full of large format lenses, loaded film packs and a Linhof Technica IV past the patrons in the front, through those special swinging doors that separated reality from a Willy Wonka-esk sudsy utopia.  The Wildrose Brewery is a relatively low tech facility. Since they are a micro brewery the output is small when compared to the big operators like Molsons or Labatts.  Here the staff are very hands on with every facet of production.  They actually care about the product they produce and it shows in the taste.  Years ago I had dealings with one of the chemists that work for a once large beer “manufacturer” here in Canada.  I asked him what was his favorite brand.  His answer surprised me, he said he didn’t drink beer, he knew what was in it.  Interesting to say the least.

Here at the Wildrose Brewery they coax out several very distinctive brews from their specially picked ingredients.  “Manufacturing” suds is so far from their reality you have to wonder how some of the swill produced by the big manufacturers can be called beer.   Wildrose beer has become popular here in Calgary due to its taste, not through juvenile commercials.

This particular shot wasn’t easy.  There was a door open on the left that was bathing the kegs in direct sunlight.  The vertical vats were in shade with the background almost dark.  The scene brightness ratio (SBR) was approaching 10 or 11.  Fortunately I use PyroCat-HD as my primary developer utilizing a semi-stand regime.  I adjusted my ASA (ya I’m an old fart and still call it ASA) to the appropriate value, placed my zones where I wanted them and let’r rip.  As it turns out the neg is fairly easy to print, only a little dodging and burning here and there.  The film I am using is Efke PL100  also known as ADOX 100.  I would really like to make a digital neg about 11×14 and use it to produce a carbon print as I have seen Sandy King do.  Carbon prints have such a 3D look to them.

Once finished my shooting for the day the Brewmaster took me around and we spent at least an hour sampling various beers straight out of the vats.  Before I left I did a crew portrait which was dropped off to them the following week.  One copy for each of them.

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I hate my job!

by on Jan.30, 2012, under Cameras, Digital, Location, Travel

turkey_seedseller - photo by Eric Rose

Istanbul Seed Merchant

I don’t know about you but I can honestly say I have had some jobs that just stunk.  Sometimes they start off great but go downhill really fast after the novelty wears off.  Being a bit of an old fart I was brought up in the age of commitment.  If you said you were going to do something you darn well did it.  None of this job jumping you see these days.  Actually I don’t blame the younger folk these days.  Employers have no compunction about sucking you dry and then spitting you out on the street so they can boost the numbers for the quarter.  Gotta keep those Wall Street fat cats happy!  So why should an employee feel some sort of commitment or allegiance to their employer when none if given.

What does this rant have to do with the lady above?  Well nothing really and everything.  Women like her have probably been selling bird seed in this very spot for at least 100 years.  Why do they still do it?  Because they feel a dedication to their Mosque, or maybe her family.  This is the same dedication I used to see here at home.  We use to call it the “Protestant work ethic”.  Since religiosity generally in North America is on the decline it seems the work ethic that went along with it is also on the decline.  That’s not to say there weren’t lots of non religious people who were very hard workers.

Now take the woman in the photo.  There are numerous narratives a reasonably creative mind could come up with.  Is she unhappy with her job?  Maybe the kids running around the square are getting on her nerves.  Maybe she has not made enough money to buy the food necessary for tonight’s dinner.  Could be she is tired of photographers!

Now a bit on the back story.  This photograph was made in a square near a very large Mosque in Istanbul.  There must have been several hundred pigeons squawking for their dinner and an almost equal number of children pestering their parents to buy one of the small plates of seeds.  At the moment I made this image a very large flock of pigeons had been scared into flight.  Being under a tarp was a definite plus.  My wife got a beautiful photograph of a child peeking through just such a pigeon lift off.  Please check out her website.

What intrigues me about the above image is the subject’s body language.  Even though she is Turkish it is not hard to read where her mind is.  She is doing her duty, raising money for the Mosque, and not enjoying one minute of it.  She is well organized and has settled in for the long afternoon ahead.  The countdown is on.  She is poised for a quick exit.

The tension she exhibits is very subtle in the photograph.  The legs running away in the background can be seen as a counterpoint to her captivity.  The bright red adds to the feeling of tension.

I loved Istanbul and found the people to be so warm and friendly.  Well except when they are selling seeds.

The equipment I used for this image is Nikon D700 with Nikkor 28-70mm 3.5-4.5.

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The End of the Line – One Last Ride

by on Jan.23, 2012, under Rodeo

Each week I will showcase a different image.  Something that means something to me and has a story behind it.  It may not be the best image I have ever created but rest assured there will be a story.

Getting psyched for the Last Ride

The cowboy in this image had entered the Bowden Rodeo in Alberta last August.  There are probably somewhere between 6 to 8 different rodeo circuits in Alberta.  Rodeos are a very big deal here.  A successful bronc rider or steer roper can make a pile of money and also become a legend.

For every successful rodeo cowboy there are hundreds of beat up, wounded, lonely and broke ones.  They spend their entire summer living out of their pickup truck.  If they are lucky they might have a “buckle bunny” latch on to them,  rodeo’s version of a groupie.  For the most part however they live a very solitary life.  Even when they are with their fellow cowboys words are sparse.  Cowboys are not into idle chit chat.  If you have something to say, well just say it.  Taciturn is a word that comes to mind.

The cowboy in this image recognized his day had come and gone.  At one time he was sponsored by the likes of car manufacturers and beer companies.  Things were glorious and the money, fame and chicks were rolling in.  Unfortunately like many rodeo participants he suffered some major injuries.  At first he tried to ride through them just like any extreme athlete would.  A little extra “chew”, a set jaw and another 8 seconds of torture.  The injuries caught up with him.  The wins were becoming fewer and fewer.  The sponsors a distant memory.  The handwriting was not just on the wall, it was deeply etched into the constant pain he suffered.  It was time to pack it in.  To retire.

A cowboy never just quits.  They have that one last ride, pack up the truck and disappear into the dust as they head out of town.

This was my subject’s last ride.  We sat and chatted awhile.  He relived some of his glory days with me and his eyes shone with the excitement.  It was nice to see him perk up as it was very obvious he was depressed about how things turned out for him.  His dreams as a young child were dashed.  His identity was taken away from him.  Well not for one last ride anyway.  This was going to be the best one this year he told me and he wanted to make sure I had a great vantage point to watch the action.

Deep down I knew he thought it was a long shot that he would stay on for the entire 8 seconds.  I noticed he had packed away all his gear prior to his ride.  Most of the cowboys left their gear in the common area used for getting geared up prior to a ride.  This area is sacred.  Only those with permission are allowed in.  If anyone gets a bad vibe from you, you’re out.  It’s the cowboy’s form of a sanctuary.

My new friend happened to draw a very good horse.  This was going to be a tough ride no doubt about it.  His horse began bucking even before the gate was opened.  This is a very dangerous position for the cowboy and the handlers to be in as anything could happen.  One ton of very pissed off horse crashing and thrashing in a very tiny enclosed space.  They were finally able to get the horse settled down enough and the gate was thrown open.

My friend had a great ride and stayed on for the entire 8 seconds!  He jumped off the horse once the outriders got there and started to walk back to the stalls.  Then it happened.  The announcer said he had been disqualified for some bullshit infraction that could have been called on just about any rider that day.  You see this cowboy happens to be First Nations.  They knew it was going to be his last ride and they weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of walking proud.  Maybe he had pissed off some people in his heyday.   Maybe his ego was just a tad too big and they figured he needed to be cut down.  Or maybe they were just rednecks.

My friend turned never coming back to the staging area.  I think he knew something like that was going to happen and that is why he had prepacked his stuff.

All I saw of his departure was the cloud of dust his pickup kicked up as he traveled down that long straight road to cowboy hell.  That place  none of them want to talk about.  The place where there are no sponsors, no buckle bunnies and no 8 seconds of terror.

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Life is Good

by on Jan.16, 2012, under Cameras, Digital, Life is Good, Location, Photographers, Uncategorized, Vision

When I look at the news these days it reaffirms my belief that for me at least life is good.  Is this why so many people have become news junkies, they need to see someone suffering so they can feel better about themselves?

I think we all know the person who spends all their available time glued to CNN or some equally intelligence numbing news porn pusher. I firmly believe our local CTV news department here in Calgary has a quota of blood and mayhem they have to meet for every evening newscast.  If nothing is gory enough locally they dredge up something from some backwater hillbilly county in the US.  While it may be tragic for the people closely associated with the shooting, stabbing, car wreck or beating it has absolutely nothing to do with my life. There is nothing I can do beyond feel bad for them while at the same time thinking, geez my life is so much better than theirs.  Thank goodness I watched the news, I never would have known how good I have it.

What does this have to do with photography you ask?  Good question.  My life is good, and I don’t need anyone external to tell me so. Yes I could be making more money, I could be 40 pounds skinnier, maybe I should be able to run 10 miles.  Right now, today, I feel great with who I am and where I am.  Well maybe Brooks Jensen from Lenswork magazine could call me up and say he loves my photography and wants to publish some of my stuff in his excellent magazine.  That would make me a tab bit happier.

For 2012 my goal with this blog is to publish one image a week that makes me happy.  It could make me happy because it records a joyful occasion, creates some visual magic like Bruce Barnbaum‘s slot canyons and cathedrals or represents something spiritual.

Along with the image I will outline the all important W5’s.  Maybe even some photo geeky stuff too.

Below is the first image.  Anyone from my generation (baby boomer) can relate to this scene.  Instantly you have memories of going with your parents to the local hamburger drive-in;  the smell of the car’s interior, the AM radio playing anything but what you wanted to hear, pretty car-hops in short skirts, and REAL hamburgers with the condiments oozing out into the foil wrapper.  Maybe you went with your friends in a souped up Chevy or Ford.  A hot car of this era just had to have Thrush mufflers and a jacked up rear end.

Every payday my dad would take my mom and me to the local A&W.  I can remember the day when I was finally old enough to order a Teen Burger and my very own order of French fries!  During those days the family car was a very powerful Plymouth Fury with a new one in the driveway ever year until they got rid of the fins in the early 60’s.  Then it was on to a string of Oldsmobiles.  Why Olds?  Because they had a 455cu, 375hp engine and a nice factory AC installation; horsepower for the old man and AC for my mom.  From Olds the old man went on to Buick Wildcat’s.  That is until they detuned them in 72.  He stuck with his 455cu, 375hp Wildcat until the day he died.  They might have to pry a gun from Charlton Heston’s dead hands, but for my dad it was the keys to his monster Buick with it’s 10mpg.

This picture was taken at a street festival here in Calgary.  I was feeling lazy that day and decided to leave the D700 at home instead pocketing my beater Canon A640.  I figured it would be a generally lousy day for photography but was instead presented with a very target rich environment.  Live and learn.  I did the best I could given the lighting, proximity of Mosquitoes (people in my way) and the limited space between the vehicles.  While the car was an integral part of the photograph, for me it represented mainly a time stamp. The food, now that was what caught my attention.  Did I mention I am just a tad overweight?

Since my digital days are rather recent compared with over 40 years of shooting film I only took one photograph of this subject.  Mind you it took me some time with lots of ducking and weaving to get just the right angle before I pulled the trigger.  I hope you enjoy this image and it brings a knowing smile to your face.  If you were too young to have enjoyed the drive-in experience rent a copy of “American Graffiti” to get a flavor of what I am talking about.  Say hi to the Wolfman for me.

55 Merc Memories - Eric Rose Fine Art Photography Blog

55 Merc Memories

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Stay Hungry, Stay Foolish.

by on Oct.07, 2011, under Commerce, Vision

Steve Jobs - R.I.P.

Steve Jobs - R.I.P. image by Jonathan Mak

Many things can be said about Steve Jobs.  Many things have been said by people much more eloquent than myself so I will not add to the discourse here.  I must state I am a dyed in the wool PC person.  I have tried to get Macified but it just didn’t work for me.  However I do enjoy my iPod.  I will miss Steve’s drive, pugnacious stick it to “the man” attitude, even though he finally became “the man”.  Our lives are better because of Steve Jobs.  There is no one in North American business that has their poop together like Steve did.  He actually MADE something.  Created new products, new directions and new methods.  His company profited because of his vision and drive.  The world economy is failing because no one creates anything new anymore.  Things are run by investment bankers and traders who only know how to create ever more convoluted money manipulation schemes that as we have seen come crashing down leaving us holding the bag.

America was great when we had the likes of Henry Ford, Thomas Edison, Benjamen Franklin and the guts and determination of the people like the engineers and support staff of NASA when they brought back a severally crippled Apollo spacecraft.

In 2005 Steve gave a commencement speech at Stanford University.  It is one of the most inspirational messages I have heard in a very long time.  The title to this blog posting comes from it and I encourage you to watch it in it’s entirety.

Steve Jobs – Stanford Commencement Speech

America and I include Canada in that needs 50 Steve Jobs.  Today.  We are doomed without them.

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The Harvest is in! Finally!!

by on Oct.03, 2011, under Family, Location, Travel

Eric and Eric plus the Bumble Bee

For the second year in a row I have helped my brother in law Eric Goerzen with harvest.  This is the family farm where my wife grew up and comprises 1700 acres of high yield dirt.  Eric took over farming the homestead years ago and has added to it both in size and equipment.  Eric has also stepped up to and embraced the new agronomics and yield increasing technologies.  It’s a well running business but requires a high level of commitment and just plain guts.

In the past Eric’s father and father in law helped with the harvest.  Both of these fine gentlemen, experienced farmers in their own right, drove combines while Eric drove the grain truck.  For the most part this arrangement worked well but with the newer combines it was

The Bumble Bee in the field.

possible to replace the two aging combines with one relatively new one.  This was a big decision to make.   The price of these new machines are quite high plus the complexity of the systems running them is on several orders of magnitude more sophisticated.  Much like going from a 1970’s carbureted Chevy to a new computer controlled fuel injected BMW.  Fortunately Eric is also a certified heavy duty mechanic so has a head start on understanding the inner workings.

Another part of the equation when determining the need to purchase this new combine was the advanced age of Eric’s father and his father in law.  Both gentlemen are dyed in the wool farmers and would rather meet their maker doing an honest days work on the farm than be put out to pasture.  It was a tough decision, but one Eric had to make.

The New Holland combine Eric purchased, a CXR-40, is fully computer controlled.  Almost all adjustments can be made from a screen in the combine.  The driving compartment is very ergonomically well designed with sound deadening one of the major pluses.  The downside of that is you can not hear what the combine engine and thrasher are doing.  You have to rely on your in cabin alarms, screen readouts and the good ears of your truck driver.  For old timers this is a huge leap as they are use to “driving” a combine and know what every noise and shake means.

Heck this CXR-40 has air conditioning, stereo radio, and just about any bell and whistle you can imagine.  No microwave or TV though.  I hear some of the newer ones have TV.  Frankly I don’t see how useful this would be as it takes a lot of concentration to maneuver

750 liters of fuel every day.

around a 50 ton machine.  To put that into perspective a Centurion tank, the mainstay of the British and Canadian armies during WWII, weighs in at the same tonnage.

Last year we were plagued with mechanical breakdowns.  One in particular had us sidelined for a full week.  The pressure was on!  When the crop is ready you have to move fast.  Every day counts.  If a frost hits the grade of the crop can be reduced dramatically.  Sometimes the crop can be so damaged it just doesn’t pay to bring it in, especially considering historically weak grain prices.

The price of wheat has not kept up with the consumer price index.  On top of that western Canadian producers are hamstrung by the Canadian Wheat Board.  Just another government board that rewards the east (WCB does not apply east of Manitoba)  and screws the west.  Check out this link for stats collected by the American USDA to give you an idea of how tough it has gotten for farmers to make ends meet.  What’s happening is the family farm is nearing an end.  Forced out by the economics of big business.  The only way you can make a living from grain farming is to cultivate 10’s of thousands of acres.  All the input costs have gone up but the revenue side has remained flat for generations.

This year’s harvest got off to a rocky start.  Eric and his brother Albert were out working the combine and unknown to them an oil line had burst.  By the time the alarms went off they were within a couple of minutes of seizing the engine.  The line was repaired, all systems were go, and then it rained.  We had to wait 2 to 3 days before the crop was dry enough to begin again.  Once we were rolling everything went pretty smoothly.  Blew an injector line, broke a drive chain, broke a header adjustment bolt, destroyed the header shoot gate, and

Moving the swather.

the gear box on the auger tractor gave up the ghost.  For the most part minor stuff.  Just additional stress.  It’s hard for most people to comprehend that an entire year’s revenue is taken in during one week!  51 weeks of blood, sweat and negative cash flow.  If something goes wrong and the crop is a bust, well it’s not pretty.

Many farmers feel that feeding the world is their mission.  God put them on the planet to put food on our plates.  They feel a real affection for the land they work.  It’s almost like the land is another child of theirs.  They nurture it, protect it, feed it and then feel a great sense of accomplishment when it repays them by bringing forth a great crop.  I have seen farmers pick up the soil they farm and just rub it on their face.  They seem to enter into a state of rapture as they smell the earthiness and feel the velvet texture.

Most farmers, especially on the family farms,  earn a meager living compared to business men and women who have to shoulder the same levels of stress and calculated uncertainly.  But just try and take these sod busters off the farm!

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Emerging Pro Photographers

by on Aug.04, 2011, under Uncategorized

Emerging Pro.  To me the statement is an oxymoron.  You are either a pro, or your not.  Far to many weekend warriors with fancy DSLRs think they are “pro” because they have conned some relative into paying them to do a wedding.  Heck most of the serious amateurs have better camera systems than real working pros!

Here is a great blog on some deadly sins non-professional, “pro’s” commits.  Check it out here.

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Three weeks in Turkey – wow!

by on Jun.07, 2011, under Uncategorized

Just got back from the best trip ever. Three weeks in Turkey went by SO fast! Once the jet lag dissipates a bit and I get some images worked on I will be giving you a very detailed blog posting.

Group trip in the making as well. Stay tuned!

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