Day 54 - Rain, rain, go away / by Edward Crim

My friend Gregg came by the studio this morning for a sensor cleaning and critique of his photos - harbor photos from Florida, photos of his wife, street photography - man on bench, hammer dulcimer player, sunset, etc. And I asked the questions I typically ask; 

What’s the subject? What do you want the viewer to see? Where should we look in this photo?

In my photography and in the classes I teach, the goal is to rise above the level of photographic document to photographic art. It is not an easy task, and I certainly don’t accomplish it all the time (or any where near that), but if you don’t aim for something it’s certainly hard to hit it. 

Gear is important to the process of photography. When I am going to be outdoors, I take great care to dress for the weather. The coat I am wearing for this year’s project is certainly warm (it was too warm today), but it may be time to retire it. It is, after all, the same one I wore ten years ago in my first Forest Park 365 project, but a bit worse for wear. It was earlier this week when I was asked if I were homeless and needed a place to stay that I began to think it was time for a new coat. 

Back to the theme of rooms in Forest Park, I found a few more today that are worthy of inspection. It was raining when I got to the park, so my plan was to get some photos of raindrop splashes in the puddles of the Grand Basin (there are several rooms in that area) and had positioned myself for just that purpose sitting by a puddle (and partly in one) when the rain quit falling. Bother. Time for a change of plan. So I walked around Post-Dispatch lake, via Art Hill and Shakespeare Glen. At the top of Art Hill on the eastern wing of the curve that makes for such great sledding when it snows, I entered a charming space that would be perfect for picnics. Open on the side toward the Grand Basin and fenced on the north and east by trees, it slopes up to the tree lined walk that leads to the Art Museum. There is also a wash that flows when it rains and would be a perfect place for children to play and get covered with mud.

Past that, on the northeast edge of Shakespeare Glen, the hill runs down to the path by Wildlife Island, where the Friedrich Jahn Memorial stands. If you’ve never heard of the Turners, just imagine your gym class speaking German in rural America and you will be pretty close. Plus there were the angry birds, the Pine Place meditation center, green goose goo glade, and troll bridge. I’ll have to tell you about those sometime. 

Come into the shade.

Come into the shade.