photography – Page 50 – LLOYD'S LENS PHOTOGRAPHY LLC

Relics

Every so often I find that my curiosity gets the best of me. I’ve always been an explorer at heart and when I see a piece of junk left behind my inner child wants to play Indiana Jones. I have passed this old drilling rig for thirty years and kept telling myself one day I’ll go down into the overgrown field and check it out. It’s not as simple as it sounds. I live in rattlesnake territory and they absolutely love to make their dens in old machines. It was still winter I figured that they were still hibernating if not frozen stiff and so I made my way to the rig. Since there’s a fine line between bravery and stupidity, I moved cautiously through the briars and winter grasses. I used my tripod to push back the brush and make sure I actually wanted to step there before moving forward. When I finally reached my goal a took a few minutes to appreciate the object before my eyes. I was touching history. Maybe not Earth shattering history but someone’s history. The drilling rig was more than likely used by miners to get core samples for the coal industry. I looked over the broken gauges and switches. The key that turned the machine on was still in the ignition. Levers that were frozen with rust had not been touched by human hands in decades. The steel cables sagged and the wheels had rotted away. I think about the men who operated the drill. I imagine the hot July and August days on the job site. The dust rises from the bore hole turns into mud when it lands on their necks due to sweat. The type of men who do this kind of work are hardy and take pride in the job. They deal with the misery of labor by laughing when it’s over. I would not be surprised if break time included some pranks here and there. There always at least one person on a crew like this who is afraid of snakes and a cheap rubber snake left near a lunch box is better than T.V. These men are not just coworkers. They’re family. They say that history is really his story . But it’s their story and our story. And when you come in contact with one of the relics, it’s your story too.

The Summerville Lighthouse

black and white photography, West Virginia

As I sat down to write to write tonight’s post the wind is howling on the ridge above my home. I can hear the wind chimes ring loudly in the front porch. There’s a storm on the way. That’s the reason why I chose the picture of our local lighthouse. Lighthouses are the iconic representation of hope in the storm. I can’t look at a lighthouse without having a sense of peace and security. (That’s why I incorporated a lighthouse in my business logo.) Finding peace during a storm one of life’s necessities. It helps to have a lighthouse to provide a fixed point to focus on. Metaphorically speaking, we know that there will multiple storms in our lives. We will need that beacon of hope to focus on and guide us through the fog and blinding rain. For me, Christ is my lighthouse. That doesn’t mean that there’s never a storm. But it does mean that I have a fixed point to focus on and find that peace again.

Ready for take off

Back and White Photography, Thoughts and Musing

The image above was taken at Northgate Business Park in Kanawha County West Virginia.

When I look at this image I’m taken back forty some years. Back to a time before digital photography and drones. A time when many of the conveniences we enjoy today were science fiction. We used to fly kites on a ridge like this one. We learned what was like to hold the wind in your hands. I was always convinced that one day I would build a kite large enough carry me into the clouds. I would go out on windy days with a jacket and find a nice windy spot. I would open the zipper and stick my hands in the jacket’s pockets and stretch out like a kite. I would close my eyes and turn into wind catching it my jacket. I would sway and tilt just like the kites did. As I grew older, I learned that jackets don’t make good hang gliders but I never lost that dream. Even today I will sometimes open my jacket with hands in pockets and imagine that I’m floating in the wind. Perhaps that’s one reason why I like this spot. It looks like a great runway and I just happen to be wearing my flying jacket today.

Working With Stone (And hearts of stone too)

black and white photography, Thoughts and Musing

I’ve always been interested in certain trade skills. Cutting stone is one of them. To properly cut a stone one must have to be able to read the small lines that tell you where small faults are inside the stone. Stone cutting is thought to be a very masculine endeavor. The uninitiated often has visions of the stone cutter as a muscle bound brute striking mighty blows until the stone gives way. While it takes some elbow grease to wrestle a large piece of rock into place one doesn’t have to have extreme strength. Ancient technology like A-frames or block and tackle make it much easier.

But I really want to talk to you about the actual cutting process. It’s not about strength. It’s about control. A mighty blow with Thor’s hammer would be manly for sure but it’s also going to ruin the work. The key to getting that nice straight cut is patience. It often starts with abrading a line in the place you want to cut. Sometimes you need to drill and use a wedge. Then you place your chisel on the spot and tap it with the hammer. The vibration of chisel travels into the stone weakens the spot until a crack forms.

This is also how to change a difficult situation. Or deal with a difficult personality. If your goal is to destroy a relationship then hammer away like Thor and vanquish the enemy. But keep in mind that an enemy is what you will produce. But, if that goal is to shape a relationship from raw stone then the small light taps over a long time is how it’s best done.

It’s also how to set someone free. (Including ourselves sometimes)

“I saw the angel in the marble and carved until I set him free.” – Michelangelo

In today’s microwave world of instant gratification we’ve lost the value of accomplishment. Some of Michelangelo’s works took decades. The investment of time and imparting of life energy is what gives value to an angel shaped hunk of rock. I guess the point I’m trying to make is that don’t be surprised if instant success leaves us with a hollow victory. Accomplishment is born from the struggle. The harder the struggle is then the more satisfying the accomplishment will be. Even Michelangelo struggled. I don’t have a source but I remember one of art teachers talking about Michelangelo’s unfinished works and that how some of were abandoned because a fault formed in the wrong spot. The lesson I learned was that to become a master is to have failures and move forward anyway. If we want success then we walk away from the ruined piece with our tools and our experience and we get to work on a new piece by making those small taps in just the right place. And, we do it again and again until the angel is free.

Thinking about Springtime

black and white photography, Uncategorized

West Virginia is still a few weeks from Spring. I’ve been anxiously awaiting the bursts of color and the sound of tweeting birds. At the end of February, I start looking at the buds on the trees for signs of life. The Dogwood is one of the first to wake up. I began to get excited just thinking about it. The long cold nights have been giving way to earlier sunrises and later sunsets every day. Soon it will be time to plant gardens and gather the dead wood from the lawn for the fire pit. In the past few days I’ve started hearing the frogs sing and the hatchling fish have been spotted in the stream that runs through my property. Life is returning to the mountains once more.