Vanity Plate No. 1 / NJ - REDWINE

There were a lot of portraits -- self and otherwise -- used to depict vanity, natch, not to mention people gussying themselves up, applying makeup or otherwise admiring their own reflections. Frankly, I didn't expect to see so many photos of birds -- particularly waterfowl like swans, ducks and geese -- used as an expression of narcissism. Peacocks I understood and the dozen cats weren't a surprise, either. I also don't quite get the idea of mannequins having "excessive pride in one's appearance." Talk about anthropomorphizing something. I did, however, enjoy those who used one of the definitions further down the list.

So while I spent the day going through the 263 entries before I could come home to post my own, I started to wonder if I had any photos on my computer that would fit the challenge. (A hard-drive crash a few months ago took a chunk out of my available images and I haven't been able to rebuild the library yet.) And then I realized that I did, even if it was a camera-phone image. While there were a few posts of cars -- usually exotic ones or high-horsepowered ones -- it took me 154 posts before I found someone of like mind.

This is one of a few vanity plate photos I have. As the collection grows, I'll come up with a better way to present the low-quality, grainy photos produced by a camera phone (since that's how I tend to capture these things when I'm out doing errands at Target, which is where REDWINE was spotted). For now, though, this.

Mike Jacobs after the slam, Trenton, June 2005

A couple of months before the Mets called him up to the majors, Mike Jacobs was tearing up the Eastern League. When I caught a Binghamton Mets game in Trenton, his third-inning grand slam tied the game at 6-6. I'd call that success. In the seventh inning, he was hit by a pitch -- after Trenton's Shelley Duncan, the team's top home run hitter, had been drilled and caused the benches to empty when he took a few steps toward the pitcher.

Light on leaves No. 4, January 2006

I find it hard to sit still this week. With a new camera, I don't want to watch TV. I don't want to go to work. So the camera comes with me, and when I'm finished with lunch and have half an hour before my allotted 60 minutes are up (not that my job is a strict nine-to-fiver; it's more of a 10-until-everything's-done, so a 90-minute lunch can be made up on the back end of the day) then I'm going to stop off at a park around the corner from the office before I return.

The beauty of a digital camera -- other than the instant gratification that it provides -- is that I can be less discerning in what I shoot. I don't have to conserve frames on a roll of film; I don't have to fret over a bad shot. I can look for little things like the way the light hits a leaf on the ground and see how it looks through the viewfinder -- and I can see how it looks after taking a picture, knowing that a simple press of a button (or two) will reopen those bytes of memory should the result not be up to par.

With this renewed passion for photography, I now wonder how best to utilize the various accounts I have set up on Flickr, Yahoo!, Snapfish and others, not to mention this blog. For now, I think the answer is this: Flickr is the main album, Snapfish is the site from which I'll order prints and this one is where I'll choose one or two images from each outing to display, and where I'll allow myself to write at some length about this hobby.

Sounds like a plan to me.

A parrot in Edgewater, January 2006

There are a flock of Quaker parrots that build what amount to nest condos in trees and, unfortunately, on power lines and connectors to utility poles in Edgewater, New Jersey. They're true Jersey dwellers now -- they don't flee in the winter. Even now, if you come down the cliff from Cliffside Park on Route 5, after the hairpin turn, if you find yourself far enough back at a red light, all you have to do is turn off the radio to hear the squawking from above. The cacophony of dozens of birds is loud enough to be heard through closed windows. It's beautiful.

Perched, January 2006

There are advantages to sitting next to the only window in the office, particularly when it's a wide panoramic series of panes that stretch from one wall to the other. I've seen this hawk before, but on this day -- the first day I had my new digital SLR up and running -- I was ready. And he was accomodating, swooping down from over the roof, right past the window near where I sit, and gliding to his perch on a branch not much more than 100 feet across the parking lot. That was nice of him.

A full-sized version can be found here.

View from Sandy Hook Lighthouse, December 2005

Time to get back into the Photo Friday challenges. I'm obsessed with panoramic collages, and this is my latest one. Unfortunately, the vantage point atop Sandy Hook Light is inside the lantern room, so there are reflections on the windows visible in the sky. But otherwise, I thought this was a decent collage, made up of four shots.

The view is to the north, with New York City off in the distant haze, probably about 40-50 miles as the seagulls fly.

Can you spell "Trojans"?

Can you spell "Trojans"? Santa Monica, February 2004
Originally uploaded by DC Products.

I can't think of a better imperfection than being a USC fan. OK, maybe being a USC fan who can't spell.

The brilliance of this idiocy -- taken February 2004 in a Santa Monica parking garage -- is the juxtaposition of the misspelled license plate and the correct spelling beneath it on the frame. I also won't stand for any excuses -- "Well, 'Trojans' [or 'Trjans'] was already taken ..." -- because, come on, get a better idea for a personalized license plate. A UCLA fan isn't going to settle for "BREWINS" if "BRUINS" is taken (though, even if someone did, it's at least a bit clever and not just stupid).

Weather-worn barn, North Jersey

Weather-worn barn, New Jersey, November 2005
Originally uploaded by DC Products.

It's not the best-composed photo, but I like it nonetheless. The diagonal power lines parallel the multi-tiered ground and the horizon line, which is both on a slight hill and also angled because I'm taking this from the window of the car, holding the camera at my side while I keep my eyes on the road at 45 mph. I didn't look at the camera at all to compose it; I saw the barn ahead, picked up the camera, and snapped the shot. I got enough of the barn and avoided the sun enough to feel happy with this as it is.

It's an old barn on some remote northern New Jersey roadside, probably Route 94 in Sussex County. Worn by the weather, it's got holes in the roof and is comprised now of almost nothing but sun-scorched and faded wood.

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This is the first time I'm playing with the "Blog This" feature on my Flickr gallery. It has some pros and cons, so we'll see if I keep it up.

New York City sunrise, Edgewater, NJ, November 2004

Week two of my conscientious effort to participate more regularly in the Photo Friday projects. I tend to think of the spectacles of nature as divine intervention of a sort. In college at Notre Dame, my roommate Bryan and I chose to skip the all-campus welcome-back mass our junior year to rent a canoe and paddle a few miles on the St. Joseph River. You'd be surprised at how pastoral the Michiana area can be if all you know of it is Grape Road, downtown South Bend and the campus (though the latter certainly is more scenic and peaceful than, say, campuses I've visited in Boston and Austin). The majesty of a sunrise or sunset, to me, is more of a display of the divine nature of this world than a factory-made reproduction of Christ on the cross or Mary and the baby in a nativity scene.

Besides, my archives contain few -- if any -- images of those last two icons. So sunrise it is.

Washington Square Park, New York City, July 2005

I need to get back to posting here. So I offer up this one, a composite of four photos taken of the recently refurbished arch in Washington Square Park. I like the size and detail these types of images offer, not to mention the funky lines and quirky perspective that are created when using four images that don't line up.

And, for a more amusing take on something massive -- relative to what we might expect -- here are two cats...

Gates series

Gates reflection, Central Park, February 2005


Atop Great Hill, Central Park, February 2005


Near the Great Lawn, Central Park, February 2005

If there's one thing that meant "orange" this winter in New York, it was Christo's The Gates. I took close to 200 photographs in four different trips to Central Park during the installations three-week run. I went into the city on two consecutive mid-week off-days and treked from Columbus Circle in the southwest corner (at 59th St.) of the park up to around 100th St. and then east, over to Central Park East and down to the 80s. My plans were more ambitious than I'd expected, and I didn't get to explore the northern edge of the park, which now remains the last great section I've yet to explore.

Ambiorix Concepcion, Hagerstown Suns at Lakewood BlueClaws, New Jersey, April 2005

Sport? That's this week's challenge? That's what I do. That's my passion. Stopping a moment so fast, so fleeting, as a bat in motion to meet the ball, the orb suspended in mid-air over the plate ... It's a rush to come home and look at a day's output and find a few gems.

I don't think I'll be able to stop at just one. This post will probably come to include a series of shots. And since I've been neglecting this blog for a month, I hope to go back and add posts, some for old challenges, to get back into the groove.

Along the Apache Trail, Arizona, January 2005

When I think of "space," if the heavens and cosmos don't come to mind, if there's something here on Earth that I picture, it's the West. The West is space. Open space. Much of it is owned by the federal government, which isn't always a good thing these days, but there's just so much room out there. Growing up on the East Coast, having never been west of Pennsylvania until I was 14, knowing only New Jersey, New York and New England until I went to college, I've always been fascinated with the open space out beyond the Mississippi. I still am. I'll never tire of taking my camera out into the arid air of Arizona, Utah, New Mexico and their neighbors.

Ryan Howard, Scranton-Wilkes Barre Red Barons, April 2005

Sports photos are the reason I took up photography as a hobby. I wanted to capture the images that you find on baseball cards or in the pages of Sports Illustrated. There have been many trial-and-error efforts, but I have managed to score some outstanding images. This is easily one of the best, capturing a split-second of an action that, in itself, is gone in an instant. For this "action" challenge, I had to restrain myself from posting more than just two.

WWII Memorial, Washington, April 2005

I went to D.C. last week for the first baseball game in the District in 34 years and I had a little time to walk around with my friend Matt before we headed to RFK Stadium. I'll try to post a few more shots from the trip soon, but for now, I had to display my best panoramic to date. I've never been able to get three pictures to come together so well. If it weren't for the change of green in the grass, it might not be noticable. I don't even mind that there are subtle signs of it. I actually like a little evidence that the photo took more than a look through a viewfinder to compose.

"Tempe By Air," Arizona, January 2005


"Christmas in the Citi[Corp]," New York City, December 2004

For the "Tiny" assignment, I couldn't go with just one. What? It's not the first time. Unsure of what I'd use, I first thought of the model train shots I took in December. Then I came across the aerial shots from the Arizona trip and liked those too. I love taking pictures from airplanes. I insist on getting a window seat whenever I can, and I always stow my camera under the seat in front of me, rather than in the overhead compartment. This is why. Had the camera been above my head, I couldn't have reached it to shoot the pictures as we were taking off.

On another note, SI.com has a great spring training feature, a photo series taken by Oakland A's pitcher Barry Zito.

"Forty Channels," Carnegie Museum, Pittsburgh, November 2004

I've been busy lately, so I haven't posted in a couple of weeks, and I haven't kept up with the Photo Friday challenges. But after looking at just a few of the shots so far, I think "Glow" will be one of my favorites.

I love the possibilities -- the play of sunlight on winter fields, neon signs on empty streets, light refracted through droplets of water. For my own, I went with the glow of television, partly because I like the ethereal light emanating from behind the partition at the other end of the room.

There's so much more I feel I could do with this theme. Once some of this preseason baseball stuff dies down, perhaps I can get to it.

"Jeter! Jeter!" Houston, Texas, July 2004

There were many who expressed "obsession" with pictures of coffee or chocolate, while a lot of people shot something they're obsessed with shooting — signs, the moon, etc. And at least one of a bottle of Calvin Klein's Obsession.

This shot serves both purposes for me. The image depicts the obsession of the fans; it also represents my personal obsession with baseball. The game is the reason I started shooting. At one time I wanted to be a sports photographer. I realized the other night that I'm much better off doing it for a hobby. I enjoy it more that way, I'm sure.

"Former ALCOA Factory," Edgewater, New Jersey, March 2005

There are three overriding categories of photographs that people seem to consider ghostly: blurry people in motion, long exposures in which a subject (or the photographer) moves into the shot and pauses before moving away, and cemeteries. There were also at least three images of jellyfish in the first 400 listed that I looked through as I endured a slow day at work yesterday.

While I was flipping through them, one-by-one, using the link viewer, iTunes shuffling in my ears, this page came up just as "Clocks" by Coldplay began and I felt the song — particularly the intro — fit the image perfectly.

So when I got home -- at 2 a.m. -- I set up the tripod on the balcony and shot a few 4-second exposures of the abandoned ALCOA factory adjacent to the cemetery next door. It's the factory moreso than the tombstones that I wanted to capture.

"Pigs For Sale," Southampton, New York, October 2004

Yes, indeed, the Hamptons can be rural.