Minnesota Photography

Recently a friend directed me to opencultures website.  This site provides links to over 700 free college classes, many of which are offered by leading schools in the US.  Having a little bit of free time these days I decided to brush up on my photography skills, as I had been getting board with the pictures from my camera.  After perusing the Strobist blog, and decided to skip ahead to the part of the class on lighting. I have an external flash, and recently purchased two Pocket Wizards but hadn't had time to learn how to use them.  My initial pictures would occasionally turn out half obscured.

While previewing the test pictures of my harry feet, I realized I was looking at an image of the delay between my flash and the camera's shutter. The flash was going off just a fraction of a second after the camera had released the shutter to close.  Being a physicist, I quickly realized I could calculate, to a close approximation, the delay time on my Pocket Wizards.  I was shooting in ISO 200, f7.1 and just had to adjust the shutter speed till only a small fraction of the picture was opaqued.  At 1/320 my picture was about 1/3 opaqued, meaning the flash was going off just as the shutter was closing.  As one of my favorite former professors would have said; 'between friends', lets call this the exact moment the shutter went off.  Meaning that my flash was about .003 seconds behind my camera.  

I quickly understood the basics of the remotes and flash and decided to practice on a more interesting subject, my little brother. 

It was a lot of fun shooting my little bro while he did backflips and other acrobatics.  He is shockingly comfortable upside-down while air-born, and quite good at striking some interesting poses.  After a couple of shots (170!) I decided to have a little fun with tracers.  

We took 4 headlamps and put them on his hands and feet.  I set the camera for a longer exposure, and delayed the flash.  The result was some really interesting pictures of Christian with the light trails highlighting his motion.  I plan on experimenting a little more with this, but am glad I got some neat shots while learning to use my new photography techniques and toys.

Desert Rumpus

Once upon a time, the liberating mobility of jorts outweighed the practicality of long leg pants. I give you, the birth of proper climbing attire courtesy of Drew Thayer, truly a dedicated geologist and rock climbing master:

A Bucket Ride Home

Some Saturday in 2012: Upon waking up, the first thing I noticed was the throbbing sensation coming from my right foot, accompanied by the sort of heaviness usually associated with large footwear. Peeling back my double down comforter, I discovered that I had slept with a single shoe on, and it was covered by the bunched trousers that I had failed to remove from around the shoe. I was still wearing an undershirt and there were mysterious purple marks around the left armpit. Further gathering my bearings, I groped at the floor next to my bead where my water bottle typically resided. Instead of the corrugated plastic lid, my fingers fund a spongy and wet carpet. As I rolled to account for the full mess I had created the evening before, my brain retaliates by reverberating each heartbeat like a gong in a linnen closet.

Considering the slurry of alcohol and sugar that preceded this mid morning awakening, I was surprised the room was only slightly rotating. I struggles to get the shoe off, and dawned more comforting clothes. Attending to the spill, I discovered the remains of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich adhered neatly to my spare pillow; each half perfectly affixed with a small ring of the spread adhesive protruding from around the half eaten crust. Abandoning the mess, I reassemble what was left of my midnight snack and head down the hall to my kitchen toward the distinct smell of burning food.

To my surprise, on the counter is an open recipe book, and a round pie dish filled with what appears to be a casserole. The oven is still set to 350 and is giving off a pleasant warm glow in comparison to my chilly apartment. Under further inspection, recipe book is open to a page reading "Mushroom Lasagna," and the dish on the counter is actually quite close in appearance to my book's picture, with the substitution of a round pie pan, and a rather unique plopped layering method.

Between my half eaten sandwich and the lasagna, I opt for the sandwich and head for the living room to locate my belongings. My phone alerts me that it is both buried somewhere in a soft object, and receiving a phone call. Eventually, I bring up records from the night before, and confirm that I had in fact called nearly everyone on my favorites list, created 10 minutes of voice recordings, taken a dozen or so pictures, tweeted, and posted obnoxiously on Facebook. All I needed to see however, was the first picture to confirm that my shabby state was entirely worth the ride I had apparently snagged home. The last picture on my phone was taken from the bucket of a utility truck traveling down a four lane street. From the voice recording, I gathered that my drunken alter ego (Drunk Noah) had been unable to get a cab, and performed a "hop on" at a stop light. He then went on to remind me that the lasagna should be eaten cautiously as cream cheese was substituted for ricotta, and there was perhaps too much salt.

While I hadn't forgotten these facts, I consider myself fortunate to have such a considerate drunken alter ego, leaving me messages and snacks for the inevitable morning. Now if only he would have set the coffee maker, and remembered to put his six cupcakes in a bag before stuffing them in my jacket pockets.