tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6937020.post-1113056782212862812005-04-09T06:40:00.000-07:002005-04-09T07:32:32.353-07:00I used to be obsessed with photography, starting in my teens. I took workshops with Ansel Adams, Paul Caponigro, Aaron Siskind, Minor White, all while still in high school. I lived and breathed large-format black and white photography, majored in it in college, taught it, and after about a dozen years, burnt out. The muse just said, "This has been a great party 'n' all, but I gotta go."<br /><br />Suddenly, on a trip to Vancouver last December, with a small, junky digital camera borrowed as an afterthought at the last minute, it all came back. The passion of the hunter. So after thirty-five years, I bought myself a new camera and joined the ranks of the digital, shooting color, which I have a tenuous relationship to. My new routine is to grab the camera as I go out the door in the late afternoon to take the dog girls for our romp in the fields of a deserted army base nearby. <br /><br />The last few nights I've been taking photos while driving home, too. The roads are so little-traveled that I can stop and snap for several minutes without any cars behind me. The dogs think I'm nuts, but what else is new. <br /><br />The we go home, they get their daily egg, and I spend the rest of the evening unwrapping presents, or at least that's what it feels like. I download the photos and start playing with them, sometimes doing little but saving for the web, sometimes experimenting wildly for hours to bring out forms or colors in different ways. <br /><br />Let's see if I can post them here using a Mac. I have some on flickr, but I want to drop them where I can write.<br /><br /><img src="http://www.themeanmissbean.com/blogpix/wet_windshield.jpg">miss beanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13129928767615705110noreply@blogger.com