The following is one of the lessons that I have learned from who knows where: When you see something interesting in the background, find something else interesting in the foreground to add to it. The red hills in eastern Oregon caught my eye. I am intrigued by sagebrush. One plus one equals three. I can still smell the wonderful aroma of sage as I look at this image.
Looking for contrasts, I stumbled upon this color contrast of a yellow chair and a blue table. The transparent fragile glasses also added a little context contrast to the sturdy chair and table. I added a tittle Topaz Impression to give the simple image a little more interest.
This image ties the images from the two prior posts together. The contrast here are the differences in the design elements (triangular geometric vs. sweeping curves, color vs. monochrome, and smooth marble vs. sculptured metal). The horizontal (diagonal) lines of the cornice moulding and the vertical lines of the wall designs also provide a geometric contrast.
This post continues my self-assignment to look for contrasts. This image was taken from the same location as my previous post. It is the corner of the wall/ceiling cornice moulding. I saw the contrast of colors, shapes, lines and light/shadows. The foyer of this historic building is full of “eye candy”.
I gave myself a photographic assignment to search out contrasts. The contrast could be in relation to many different aspects/perspectives: color, shapes, patterns, light/dark, old/new, etc., or simply an item that does not belong in a specific setting. I decided to walk the streets in downtown Yakima, WA for my search.
My first stop was the A.E. Larson Building. The Larson Building is itself a contrast to its surroundings. With its eleven stories, it towers above adjacent structures. Its Art Deco design stands out from the simpler buildings of downtown Yakima. The interior first floor lobby is heavily decorated with stone and elaborate bronze in the Art Deco style; pretty fancy for a farming-based community.
The above image is from the main lobby entryway. What caught my eye is the contrasting adjacent design. One is horizontal, the other is vertical. One is light, the other dark. The simple spirals tie the designs together.
Looking vs Seeing? My friend and I stopped to look at a nice view of Crater Lake. Almost simultaneously we saw an Indian chieftain calmly looking over the lake. My friend wrote this poem highlighting her experience.
Above, a lone sagebrush and sun appear.
The sagebrush peers over the edge watching me.
The sun’s bright fire lights my way.
I have always been fascinated by the unusual geological formations in the eastern Washington/Oregon landscape. A few weeks ago, several college friends and I went exploring around Christmas Valley, Oregon. Our first stop was “Crack in the Ground” (see excerpt from Wikipedia below}. Most of the group scurried along the bottom of the fissure. I, along with a special friend, stopped, gazed around in wonderment, and photographed whatever jumped out at me. By the time the group had walked to the end, walked back to the start, and then walked back to fine us, we had only covered about one half of the distance. My mind and eyes wondered at every turn. I am a wondering explorer, not a hiker.
Crack in the Ground is a volcanic fissure about 2 miles (3.2 km) long with depths measuring nearly 30 feet (9 m) below ground level in Central Oregon, United States. The eruptions from the Four Craters Lava Field were accompanied by a slight sinking of the older rock surface, forming a shallow, graben-like structure about 2 miles (3.2 km) wide and extending to the south into an old lake basin. Crack in the Ground marks the western edge of this small, volcano-tectonic depression. The crack is the result of a tension fracture along a hingeline produced by the draping of Green Mountain lava flows over the edge of upthrown side of the concealed fault zone. The fissure is located at the southwest corner of Four Craters Lava Field in the Deschutes National Forest.
Crack in the Ground is estimated to have been created around 1,000 years ago.
A few weeks ago, a few of my college friends and I drove out to a remote area in Central Oregon to photograph the Milky Way. We had scouted the area on the previous day and thought it would be interesting to photograph the Milky Way rising out of Ft. Rock Crater. The bright object in the lower left is Mars. The bright object in the lower right is Jupiter. We were blessed with this interesting symmetry.
Mary Dahlin wrote this following poem about her experience observing the beautiful sight
The Milky Way over Ft. Rock, Oregon
Our galaxy plots a path from a crater in central Oregon.
Fort Rock, a grand and lonely crater,
looms coolly over flat ground, showing remnants
of what spewed forth a hundred thousand years ago,
short in geologic time but long in human time.
The Milky Way seems to jump out from the center of the crater,
billions of years the product of our Creator, and we look at it
with Mars on the left and Jupiter on the right. Much of this is a mystery.
We know it is a galaxy, but it is too great to fully understand.
The colors are green, blue, and bright yellowish white,
all colors of life, like the ocean, the plants, and the sun.
What is time, and how all-important are we, really?
These are questions too difficult to answer, but for a moment
we can accept the complexity of the universe and our own
and be filled with wonder.
I wasn’t expecting to see Hoar Frost in mid-June. The conditions were just right as we were driving up to Hurricane Ridge, moist fog and cold temperature. As soon as I saw the light mist, the frost covered trees, and the contrasting rock outcroppings, I thought of B&W. Magic happens!