Gary Crabbe / Enlightened Images

Picture: Dark storm clouds over Balanced Rock at sunset, Arches National Park, Utah

Chicken Little said, “The Sky is Falling! The Sky is Falling!”

I just saw that stock photo industy guru, Jim Pickerell wrote in his newsletter, “Selling Stock”:

“The stock photo industry is in turmoil. Never in more than 30 years I have been involved in stock has there been so much uncertainty among photographers about their future. … Shifts and changes are occurring at dizzying speeds.”

This followed my recent reading of a superb weblog-based interview with Jim Pickerell, by the extremely creative concept photographer John Lund. In the interview, “The End of Photography As A Career…”, Pickerell paints a fairly dismal picture. When asked at point blank range if photographers can still make a living at stock photography, his answer was a resounding “NO” in all caps, albiet quickly qualified “…with a few exceptions.”

But wait! The quote taken from his newsletter was written in the September 1999 issue of Selling Stock. It fell out of a binder I was getting ready to throw away while cleaning out one of the deep dark corners of my office. September 1999; more than 10 years ago. I didn’t know whether to crack a wry smile, cry, or simply roll my eyes. I think I did numbers one and three simultaneously.

Was the sky falling in 1999? Is the sky is falling now? Will it fall in 10 years? Will it always be falling, or has it already fallen?

Looking at the industry now, I simply have to wonder what someone might write 10 years from now. Jim’s quote from 1999 certainly remains a very valid observation today.

The industry is not what it was a decade ago. I’m not going to predict what it will be like for photographers 10 years from now. I do believe that change will continue to happen. There is one area of change that I feel strongly about, but I’ll save that for another time. Right now, I’m going to grab an umbrella. The sky could fall at any moment.

Picture: The end of the rainbow over trees & forest in a valley near Hat Creek, Lassen County, California

Click here to see the photo larger.

I took this image last fall after leaving the Hat Creek Radio Observatory in remote Lassen County. I saw the rainbow starting to form, and chased it down on one of the bucolic side roads that ran through the quiet valley. Not long after returning from this trip, I posted an image that showed the other end of this rainbow coming out of a nearby farmhouse. However, looking at this other side, I felt I’d never been so close to the end of a rainbow in my life. It was literally “right there.”

But there is an odd thing to chasing rainbows. Like the elusive pot of gold that is said to exist at the end of the rainbow, no matter how much you chase them, you can Read the rest of this post »

Picture: Gold miners working hydraulic mining water monitors, blasting away at a hillside, Nevada County, California; circa 1866 Photo Credit: Library of Congress

That history-related book project I’ve been working on over these last many months is now, as they say, history. I am so delighted to report that as of this last weekend, my sixth book is delivered, and in the hands of my publisher. The book is called California; Yesterday & Today, and is part of a series of similar titles the publisher is producing. The book had originally been set for publication in the summer of 2010, but my accident last year forced a postponement of the project, something about not being able to hold a camera…broken wrist…yada yada yada. The premise of the book and project was for me to find subjects or places related to California, and / or its history, and show how it was (yesterday) and how it is (today). Stay tuned for developments and info on the actual publication date.

Picture: Hydraulic mining water monitor and eroded cliff, Malakoff Diggins State Historic Park, Nevada County, California
This is the first book that I authored in addition to being the principal photographer. I also was the photo researcher in charge of finding all of the historical images that would be used in the book. My previous experience with photo editing, photo research, and running a stock photo library was very handy for the latter aspect. The former aspect, the writing, proved to be a bit more challenging. What really caught me by surprise was the amount of time needed to do the photo and historical background research. I’ll be the first to say that I probably underestimated that aspect by a factor of two or three times.

In the coming weeks I’ll post a few more examples, namely from things that wound up on the cutting room floor, along with some of my other observations and experiences. For now, I am just delighted to have handed this project off to the publisher. Now I can start the process of reclaiming some of the balance that had recently been missing from my life.

Picture: Old Grave marker headstone (1891) behind old wooden church, Hornitos, Sierra Foothills, Mariposa County, California

I was brought up believing it’s not polite to dance on the grave of your enemy. Yet, I must admit that news last week had me wondering if I could get away with at least a little jig.

General Motors announced that they plan to discontinue the brand of socially elite uber-SUV’s known as the Hummer. The large, military-like vehicle had been based on an Army transport vehicle, but its size drew the ire of environmental groups like moths to a porch light. I have to count myself as one of the people that would see a suburbanite or city dweller driving a Hummer and quietly thought to myself, “Seriously, what the heck do they need a vehicle like that for?” In most cases, it seemed more like a huge, mobile, gas-guzzling badge of social chest puffing. (It’s more about the big gas-swallowing “excessiveness” of the beast. I don’t have any issues with those who chooses to drive a *small* fast Porsche or Lamborghini. In fact, if I could afford one…)

My personal feelings about the Hummer were typified in the summer of 2008, while photographing for my book, Backroads of the California Coast. I even posted a weblog about it back then. It was right at the height of gas prices spiking above $4.50 gallon. I was driving along the oceanfront at Corona Del Mar, when I saw a Hummer parked in front of a large house. Hanging from the front porch was a huge banner that read “Drill Now” aside the American flag. To me, it put a visual stamp on how I felt about America’s need and fascination with ‘big’ and ‘excessive’.

Picture: Hummer and banner at house reading “Drill Now” for more oil, Corona del Mar, Newport Beach, Orange County, California

I personally don’t begrudge anyone their choices of what they buy if they can afford it. But as a social status symbol, and as something that might be associated with how the rest of the world views America, I won’t be sorry to see the Hummer go.

Picture: Overview of the Marin County Watershed as seen from Mount Tamalpais, Marin County, California

I can understand why they’re upset. Marin County is one of the San Francisco Bay Area’s more affluent regions. The normal cursory thought of “Well, they can afford it” would usually draw little attention. Yet my empathy lies totally with the angry citizens of Marin, who are currently expressing outrage at having their water rates raised. Why the upset? It’s well understood that the cost of living is always on the rise. The answer isn’t what one might expect. The citizens of Marin were asked to conserve water as California suffered through a number of dry years. The citizens did such a good job of conserving water, that reservoirs are now overflowing from recent storms, and the water utility experienced such a low demand for water, that their budget revenue fell 10%. The Marin Water District is now seeking to make up for the loss of revenue caused by it’s citizens excellent conservation efforts. In a case of pure ‘government logic’, they’ve decided to rewarded those who excelled in conservation by raising their rates.

Tell me there’s not something wrong with this picture? If you do a good job of saving a resource, we’re going to charge you more for using the resource. No doubt in my mind; that’s the wrong lesson.

Picture: High desert sage at sunrise in the Great Basin, near Wells, Nevada

I spent the bulk of last week in Reno, Nevada, attending the 2010 Annual Summit Conference for the North American Nature Photography Association. Considering I had a book deadline coming up this next week, it was a challenge keeping the commitment to attend. I had to cancel my participation at last year’s conference in New Mexico due to other work issues, and promptly fell off a cliff. I simply wasn’t willing to risk anymore similar bad karma by cancelling a second year in a row. My greatest joy at this conference was my work as a portfolio reviewer. Over three days, I got to sit with 12 wonderful and enthusiastic people, looking over their images, discussing their concerns and direction, and offering the best, honest assesment of their work as possible. If I had done nothing else at the conference, the opportunity to help other photographers would have made the whole event worthwhile.

Among pros, the NANPA Summit is more about networking and touching base with friends and peers. I had the chance to interact with many other photographers whose work and skills I admire, including Michael Frye, Brenda Tharp, Greg Vaughn, Charlie Borland, QT Luong, Jed Manwaring, and Jack Graham among others.

Attendance at this year’s conference was lighter than in other years, which I suppose was expected given the economy. That said, there was still a very positive energy from the attendees. The tradeshow still had the traditional notable vendors like Nikon, Canon, Lowepro, Hunts Photo, NIK Software, and numerous photo tour / destination organizations.

Overall, the general program was quite varied in scope. But from my own personal perspective, they didn’t seem to have the same “wow” or draw factor as did the previous summits. It was widely noted that the keynote speeches by Phil Borges and Joel Satore were very well received. There seemed to be a slight thread among non-professional members that I talked to that several of the breakout sessions fell short of expectations, usually due to the presentation content not matching their expectations based on write-up in the program guide.

Of particular note was a presentation called, “Who are you & why should I do business with you?” It turns out it was Read the rest of this post »

Picture: Sunset over an empty stretch of Highway 50 “the loneliest Highway in America” in the high desert of Central Nevada.

I’ve gone into a bit of a self-inflicted hermit mode while working on my current book project deadline. However, I want to let everyone know that I will be poking my head out of the cave next week, when I will be at the North American Nature Photographers Association (NANPA) 2010 annual conference in Reno, Nevada. I will be there doing portfolio reviews on Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday. I only have a few open slots left, so if you’re going to be at the conference in Reno, and would like me to go over your portfolio, be sure to sign up for one of my available slots. Otherwise, I welcome any other attendees to feel free to stop and say hello to me at any time during the conference. If you know you’re going to be there and would like to try and meet, leave me a comment here, send me an e-mail or contact me through my website, or with a note on my Facebook page.

Picture: Footprints in the sand on beach at sunset, Golds Bluff Beach, Redwood National Park, Humboldt County, California

Long time readers of this blog will know about some of my own personal incidents that happened over the last 12 months, and how I expressed their impact on my life perspective.

Yesterday, I found myself, aware only after the fact, that I was the last person to see someone alive, taking their last steps on the planet. I’ve been fully engulfed in my current book project, trying to avoid any mental distractions. This included much of the social media aspects that I find so enjoyable, yet so distracting. Then came a knock on the door yesterday morning. It was the local police.

I won’t go into the details, but the tragic result was that one of our neighbors, in an apparently depressed and drunken rage, had taken her own life. All I could think about for the rest of the day was her two great teenage kids that she left behind. The daughter even babysat our kids on numerous occasions. I was swept with such a deep wave of sadness for them, that I could do practically nothing else but pace the house with my stomach in a knot. My brain raced for much of the day, wondering what must have been in this woman’s mind, to be so deep in despair as to not consider what she would be leaving behind, namely her kids, and the impact her actions would have on them for the rest of their lives.

As we go through life, we are always leaving a little bit of our legacy behind us; big or small, subtle or blatant. The actions we take will always impact others, for better or worse. It’s the unavoidable web of life. But the effect of a suicide on a family is the biggest, hugest, most avoidable impact, and the saddest legacy anyone could ever leave behind.

I really should be working now. But I felt absolutely compelled to share this story, and encourage anyone that may feel like checking themselves out to please, please, please – reach out and talk to someone. Think about the effect that kind of action would have on the one’s you leave behind. There is always another answer, and a better option.

Picture: Interior of the Iron Door Saloon, est. 1852; the oldest continuously operating saloon in the state, Groveland, California

I admit my frustration level has been met and exceeded. For nearly a decade working with Galen Rowell, running his stock department, I dealt with clients of every level, including editors at just about every major magazine and ad agency in the country. I prided myself on my professionalism. I know how to present myself. It’s not like I’m some newbie / wannabe whose closest publication credit is posting images on flickr. Even when doing my previous books, whenever I’d call or email someone saying I’m working on such and such project, I’d almost always get a warm, welcoming, and helpful response.

However, with my current book project, the minute I tell people (or they sense) that it’s a history book, they fall asleep. They turn off. They tune out. They switch off their radar. It’s like you suddenly become a non-important entity. In all of my career, I’ve never experienced anything like this. But it’s happened so often, among so many people at so many levels, that I’m now 1000% convinced that it’s purely related to the history aspect. Sure, there are still people that are nice and helpful, or that reply quickly. But so many of people that I’ve been in touch with, or attempted to contact, have either not responded at all, or replied once, and then I couldn’t get anything further out of them. It’s like I asked them to come in and voluntarily have some of their teeth pulled.

I just don’t get it. With some of them I just say “fine” and they’re not in my book. Others I really want to include, but after a half dozen attempts to contact them, I just can’t afford to waste more time chasing windmills.

Woof!

Picture: Bidwell Mansion, Chico, California

I tended to include “No HDR” with many of my landscape images posted online. I heard too many people say, “great use of HDR” at a time when I never used any automated HDR process on my images. Not long ago, I finally experimented with a few HDR shots. The first was a test shot of a nearby mountain, and more recently I did a comparison between an HDR and Manual Blend at the entrance to a cave.

Now I’ve done it. I’ve made my first official HDR image, and frankly, I’m pretty happy with it. Reason one: it looks like a pretty realistic interpretation, without any crazy HDR halos. Second, the all-natural lighting when I shot this image was just… what’s the word… “sucky.” The front of the house was backlit, and the areas of sunlight and shadow were all over the place and intermixed. I knew when I took this shot, any manual blend would be a huge P.I.T.A.. It was pretty much destined to be an automated HDR from the get go.

Shot for my current book project, this promises to be my very first published HDR shot. My only question now is, do I need to do any disclosure? Part of me feels like I should finally say, “Yes, it *IS* HDR.”