Exploring the wonders of creation through a 50mm lens...and other lenses too.

Christmas is one of my favorite times of the year for taking pictures. There’s so many unique opportunities that you just don’t get at other times: lights, decorations, fun outfits, and incidental environmental bits like snow and ice all combine to make for some super fun and highly creative ways to create fun photos that you just don’t see the other 11 or so months out of the year. Case in point: this week’s photo, a simple composition elevated far beyond what it would look like any other time of year and it’s all because of the lighting–what you can see in the background, but other lighting as well that I’ll get to in just a moment.

What you’re looking at is one of the Christmas ornaments I have had for years, probably decades even, hanging by its ribbon against a backdrop of lights from our tree. I shot this with my D750 and 105mm macro lens, and initially the only thing I was considering was the multicolored lights about two meters behind the ornament. I spent a while carefully positioning the little purple bear in such a way that it would be framed, essentially, by an array of reds, greens, and blues but when I started taking pictures something just seemed off. The image felt dull and lifeless, and I couldn’t really put my finger on the problem or nail down what I could do to fix it. Then I realized, of course, that the problem was right in front of me the whole time: it’s all about the lighting. The background was great, but I needed to fix the lighting on the subject. Enter the pavotubes!

The solution was simple: put some light on the front of the subject, and also get a bit of backlighting going for an added bit of pizzaz. (Do people still say pizzaz?) You can see the solution I ended up with in the shot below.

Those three lights completely changed the entire shot, and gave me exactly what I was looking for. The background was alive and vibrant, and now the bear was too. Moreso, its ring of colored beads was one step away from positively glowing. I didn’t have these Pavotubes last Christmas and it’s been, oh what’s the technical term…super awesome to be able to use them to sculpt and shape the light for my shots, particularly shots like this, that I never could before.

Recently one of my friends gave me the honor of taking a few photos of him and his new fiancée to announce their engagement. It wasn’t a formal session like the family portraits I do for clients in the area, but just a quick trip down to the OSU campus just to get some nicer-than-iPhone photos that they could share with friends and family. I had an idea in mind involving some shots with the campus Christmas in the background, but that would only work if the lights were turned on–which I had really no way of knowing until we got there. I was prepared with some backup though, in the form of a half dozen Nanlite Pavotubes, two tripods, and the metal light holders my brother Tom welded for me earlier in the year. I also brought a couple of external flashes just to be safe, and of course my D750 and a handful of lenses all stuffed into a large backpack.

It’s a good thing I brought my lighting gear. I got to campus before the couple, and quickly realized that the whole location was nearly unusable. Nothing I thought about in advance would work because none of the Christmas lights were turned on, and the only other sources of light were basically just some street lights and a couple bulbs on the exterior of a few buildings. No matter though: the show, or the session, as it were, must go on! I set up the five-point star pattern on one tripod, a single light on another tripod, and got to work planning out what I would do for their portraits. In the end it worked out pretty well all things considered, and the Pavotubes were more than capable for the task at hand. Once we got plenty of portrait shots I asked if I could take some close-ups of the ring, and they gladly agreed.

What you’re seeing here, then, is the woman’s hand resting on a metal table lit almost entirely with the five-star pattern courtesy of Tom. (Thanks Tom!) If you look closely at some of the metal, um, sticking-up things (I have no idea what they’re called) surrounding the diamond you can actually see the reflection of the light, and overall I was quite pleased with the even luminance they provided for her hand and the jewelry. I shot this handheld with my 105mm macro lens and the result, which you see here, is actually a composite of eight individual photos stacked together in Photoshop and then cleaned up a bit more in Lightroom. In the end I’m pretty happy with it, though it does make me want to study jewelry photography more to see what I could do to improve any similar shots in the future.

All in all this was a really fun experience and I’m so pleased to have had the opportunity to have done it. My friend and his fiancée were thrilled with the results, I got some photo practice, and I got a fun new image to add to my collection :)

One of my favorite places in Oklahoma is the Wichita Mountains Wildlife Refuge. My wife and I have been there several times over the years and every time we go, even though the geographic area remains constant, we have an entirely unique set of experiences. Our kids always like climbing around the top of Mount Scott, and we have a few trails we like to hit up (as well as new ones to explore) and there’s also interesting animals like bison, prairie dogs, and longhorn cattle to see that all adds up to a fun, interesting, and often exciting time for everyone. Recently we spent a few days in the area with some friends, and the big difference on this particular trip was the time of year. While of course it would seem obvious that traveling to a wildlife refuge in November would produce different scenery and experiences compared to, say, spring or summer, it was amazing to see the differences firsthand over the course of the weekend.

One of the most striking changes my wife and I noticed was the bright colors all throughout the wildlife refuge: mountains, trees, grass…everything took on rich hues of orange, yellow, and even green that we just don’t normally see at other times of the year. The mix of clouds and sun amplified everything as well, and this week’s photo is a good encapsulation of everything all in one image. I took this at, or very near, the top Little Baldy which is the end point of one of our favorite hiking trails. I’m looking north and way in the distance you can see the mountain range positively glowing with light from the afternoon sun, though just a few minutes later they were shrouded in gray after the clouds moved in. The changing colors of the leaves on the trees almost felt like something out of a Bob Ross painting, and Lake Quanah Parker poking in from the right adds a splash of blue as well as a bit of context that really helps you get a sense of the scale of everything. I have a couple of images from this same location without the lake and they just aren’t as interesting, mostly because all of the trees end up blending together and you, the viewer, are left without a real anchor point to make sense of the image.

I shot this with my trusty little Fuji X100F, which I have now had for almost six years and was the only camera (aside from my iPhone) that I brought on the trip. As usual, it performed admirably :) It’s mostly just a coincidence that I’m starting the new year with this image here on Weekly Fifty, but I suppose it’s fitting as well. This is meant to be a hopeful image, a look at the possibilities and opportunities that lie ahead and a reminder to see the familiar in, quite literally, a new light. And I hope to approach 2024 with the same mindset as well.

I went back and forth about this image for a while. When I initially took the photo and loaded it into Lightroom, I wasn’t really sure what to make of it. It’s a fine sunrise, but I didn’t think it had the sort of impact, either visually or on my journey as a photographer-in-training, but as the weeks went by I started to like it more and more. I think what bothers me, but at the same time kind of fascinates me, about this image is that it doesn’t really have a subject. There’s not one singular focal point for the viewer to look at, which is a huge contrast from almost every other photo I post here on Weekly Fifty. It has some interesting elements to it, certainly, but not one spot to draw you in or demand your attention. Instead, the entire composition asks you to consider it as a complete whole first, and then with discrete components upon further reflection. At the risk of sounding a bit too analytical, and making something out of nothing, I really do think this is one of the better sunrise images I have ever taken.

Eagle-eyed viewers might notice some striking similarities between this one and a shot I posted a couple months ago, and those viewers would be correct in their likely assumption: both shots were taken in pretty much the exact same spot. The view here is just a block down the road from our house, and scenes like this are not entirely uncommon when I head out for work in Fall and Spring when the sunrise coincides with my departure. I had my camera with me, as I often do, when I left work work on this particular day and pulled over on the side of the road to attempt to capture this vista with my D750 and 70-200 f/2.8 lens. I shot this at 150mm, f/11, 1/250 second, ISO 500, and didn’t really edit the final result much at all. A couple of my normal tweaks that I apply to every image (slight boost to the shadows, tone down the highlights and black levels, etc.) aside, what you see here is pretty much exactly what I saw when I hopped out of my car. God did the painting, all I did was happen to be in the right place at the right time to capture it.

I don’t normally do time-sensitive images here on Weekly Fifty, and almost never post images to coincide with a particular calendar event, and the same holds true with this one. It has nothing to do with the usual themes of late December: Christmas, Winter, Snow, or the new year just around the corner. Instead, this image, perhaps more than most, demonstrates my growth as a photographer simply because it is fundamentally different, given its lack of clear central subject, and as such it not only forced me to consider it more closely but also think about what I might do differently as a result. And so with 2024 just a few days away, seeing this photo gives me a sense of excitement for what lies ahead. Like the sun cresting the horizon and burning through the clouds, the future is bright and hopeful despite the gloom and shadow that still looms everywhere in this world. But even darkness must pass; a new day will come. And when the sun shines, it will shine out the clearer. Here’s to hope, and here’s to good times ahead. God bless you, Merry Christmas, and Happy New Year to you all.

This is one of those images that’s more of an exploration of a concept than a great finished photograph, but that’s also the same reason I kind of like it. I don’t know that I’ve come across a scene quite like this one before, and it was fun to get the opportunity (or challenge, more accurately) to photograph it. I was walking through the OSU formal gardens one afternoon when I came across this drop of water nestled between three leaves, and something about it just kind of struck me as kind of captivating. It’s almost a case study in the concept of surface tension: the droplet is just sitting there, minding its own business, and holding itself together with the power of physics and, perhaps, its own sheer will.

So how to photograph it? That’s a good question, and while I don’t think I got quite what I was attempting, it was fun to try. I thought about taking this shot from a side perspective, but I’ve done that before with drops on leaves and wanted to try something new. Top-down seemed like the right idea, especially since that was how I was looking when I was walking past and saw this. I used my Nikon D750 and 105mm f/2.8 macro lens, set to f/22 and Auto-ISO with minimum shutter speed of 1/200 second. (Resulting ISO was 2200, but honestly anything up to 6400 looks just fine on my D750.) I would have liked the water drop to be a little sharper but that’s kind of the classic problem when doing close-ups of subjects like this. You can either get the reflection in focus or the drop doing the reflecting, but usually not both unless you use super small apertures or bust out Photoshop for some focus-stacking. I do like the fun swirls of white sky and earth tones, which are likely just the brick walls of the surrounding buildings, that you can see in the drop and even though the extra elements like dark green leaves in the lower-right corner are a bit of a distraction, I don’t mind them as much as I thought I would.

In the end this was a fun image to take and while I won’t be printing it and hanging it on my wall anytime soon, I do think I learned a few things in the process of creating it and honestly that’s what really matters the most.