Graffiti abstracts

Unlike in some cities, people don't tend to paint genuine 'street art' in Bradford or the surrounding neighbourhoods (or not that I've noticed anyway). There is, of course, the usual scrappy graffiti, mostly people's names, sprayed under bridges and along walls. Much of it looks ugly and it makes a place look rundown. I've found, however, that some small sections - abstracted from the whole - can make quite pleasing images, abstracts in the best sense of the word.

Crazy paving

Saltaire may be a great place to live but its streets are not paved with gold. Instead you'll find yourself tramping pavements made of good old Yorkshire stone. It can be slippery when wet but it has a nice patina, with all sorts of random marks and subtle colourations. I thought it would make an interesting pattern image.

River abstracts

I enjoyed finding patterns in the river as the water rippled in the breeze.
Then I enjoyed playing around with them in processing, to see what else I could do with them. In the images below, I just added a layer of texture and soft colour.

A rainbow and a memory

I've been following a few photography projects that I've seen online. The inspiration for this image came from a photographer called Paul Sanders, who teaches 'mindful photography'. He says: "I, like many of you, will have seen the rainbows drawn and painted by people and then placed in the windows of shops, homes and offices to acknowledge support of our health service heroes. This got me thinking and playing. Remember that I spoke about approaching things with a child's mind and that photography is really about playing anyway, so I played. Get your camera or phone and photograph things with the colours of a rainbow - remember the verse from school? Richard Of York Gave Battle In Vain - Red Orange Yellow Green Blue Indigo Violet - simple or you can sing the song that goes "Red and yellow and pink and green, orange and purple and blue, I can sing a rainbow" it really depends on how much playing you want to do! Fill the frame of your phone or camera with the colours, doesn't matter if the images are out of focus, remember we are playing and there is no judgement. What you are effectively doing is photographing abstract colour. It is a celebration of gratitude, not only of the power of observation but of the key workers and front line health services battling to save the lives of those affected by the Coronavirus."
A dear friend of mine, also - coincidentally - called Paul Sanders, recently passed away, having been infected with Covid 19. My rainbow is dedicated to his memory, as well as to the NHS heroes who looked after him and continue to care for so many other people.  Paul was a warm-hearted and very kind man, who will be sadly missed by his family and friends. Sending my love and prayers to his family. 

Coppice pond patterns

It can be hard to find attractive photos when we seem to be having so many dull and drizzly days. I ventured up to the Bingley St Ives estate but was uninspired until I started taking pictures of the ripples on the water in the Coppice Pond. Even then, I felt they needed a little artistry.

The small things...

'There are pockets of peacefulness everywhere if you look for them. Small beautiful and quiet things happen in our every day life - from sunlight in the leaves on trees, clouds moving in the sky to the birds by the lapping water on the beach. Easily missed as we rush from one thing to another.

Take some time to notice the small things and see how slowing down makes you see the wonderful things happening quietly around us every day.'  [Margaret Soraya]

I've recently discovered the work of Margaret Soraya (see HERE), a landscape photographer who works a lot in wild yet peaceful places like the Outer Hebrides. She encourages us to hear our 'small, quiet voice within' as a way of accessing our deepest creativity. Her approach really appeals to me, though I have only just started to recognise, value and explore my own need for solitude and peace as a path for expression. 

Walking back from the shops on a dull, rainy day, I found a little 'pocket of peacefulness' - ironically perhaps - in this wild jumble of bright, shiny, rain-speckled toy windmills in a tub outside the vintage shop in Saltaire. 

A gentle dawn

Harris, day two
Our pattern for the trip was to rise early, when it was still dark, and leave the hotel about 6.15 am for a dawn shoot. We'd then return about 9 am for a hearty and much appreciated breakfast. An hour or so 'recovery time' after breakfast gave us chance to regroup practically and mentally, then we'd be off again, exploring and taking photos until after sunset.

The first morning, we went to the beach at Tràigh Rosamol, just around the corner from the celebrated Luskentyre beach. I rarely see sunrise in these heady days of retirement, so it was pretty amazing to experience it there. The island of Taransay was again on the horizon. The light got gradually more blue as the sun came up behind us.

When the light got brighter, I was attracted to the patterns and textures on the beach. There was a stream flowing into the sea, creating some intricate motifs of dark and light sand. 

A mindful moment

An autumn leaf floating on the surface of the lily pond at Harlow Carr seemed to me rather beautiful; a moment of mindfulness, enjoying the shapes, colours and arrangement of forms in this little tableau.  (It's probably, as they say round here, 'a bit of a Marmite picture'. Marmite is that salty, yeasty spread which you either love, as I do, or hate!)

Weaving abstracts

I found the 'Weaving the Future' exhibition (see yesterday) absolutely fascinating in its content and very inspiring too. With the sun streaming through the roof lights onto the varied exhibits, there was lots of scope for abstract-type photos and I could have stayed forever, looking and experimenting. Here are a few of the shots I took that I liked.

The pink sheets are punched cards that drive textile looms and tell the machinery how to create the pattern. These are from a local carpet factory.

The storage boxes set into the walls are relics of the past, when the roof space was a weaving shed. The faded, peeling paint and the shadow patterns attracted me.

These are some of the innovative fabrics that were displayed: light but strong fibres that could be used for insulation or load bearing. The honeycomb construction in the bottom picture makes for a very strong fabric that could be used for strengthening in buildings or bridges. I liked the effect of them set against the faded paint on the mill's walls.

Colourful

I was reading a feature in a photography magazine the other day about 'developing (no pun intended!) your own style' as a photographer. I'm not sure if I have a style or not; that is, whether my photos are recognisably 'me' or not. I suspect I take too many different subjects to really nurture a style. What I do know, though, is that most of my images that I truly love are rather colourful.

Here are a few that I've taken recently, just for the sheer joy of the colour. (Yes, there's a self-portrait there too!)

The next two are in-camera double exposures, just to capture even more colour!

Finally, a selection of beaded necklaces I spotted on a thrift stall.

Around Leeds station

There were several of us photographers, with cameras on tripods, clustered around the escalator. I lost count of the number of passers-by who stopped to enquire if a celebrity was expected. We must have looked like paparazzi!

Urban abstracts

 All taken in Leeds. 

Flamborough Head

Flamborough Head juts out into the North Sea between Bempton Cliffs and Bridlington. It's a chalk promontory, cut with little bays like North Landing (above) and crowned by a lighthouse - in fact, two. One dates back to 1674, the oldest surviving lighthouse in England, and was designed to have a beacon burning on top of it. Apparently it was never lit. The current lighthouse, powered now by electricity and still in use, was first lit in 1806 and originally had two white flashes followed by a red one.  Now it has four white flashes every 15 seconds.

It was cold walking on the headland but we had time for a few photos of the puffins on the cliffs and plenty of close-up shots of boats, ropes and flaking paint. Then it was into the café for a warming cup of tea. Aaah!

I tried a few in-camera multi-exposures too (as below), since my new camera has the facility to layer two images. It's quite fun trying but there is clearly a knack to it that I shall have to practise to achieve really pleasing images using the technique.

Sunlit water

Lister Park lake looked such a vibrant shade of turquoise in the sunshine, I had to try some abstract images. There are always plenty of birds: geese, ducks, gulls, tracking across the water so that the surface is constantly rippling like a bolt of shot silk in the wind.

Hepworth light and shade series

I absolutely adore the main stairwell within The Hepworth gallery in Wakefield. It has hidden skylights and slate cladding, which emphasise all the angles and lines, giving wonderful highlights and shadows. I always stop to take photos of it; the subtle differences in light really interest me.

Even the lockers along the corridor (where people can leave their bags if they're too big to carry around the galleries) make for an interesting study in the right light.

Going dotty

Here's another layered image. It started out as two pictures of the pierced metal sides of a pedestrian walkway over a nearby road. My original images just look like the grey steel it is made from but by layering them and then boosting the saturation, subtle colours within it become much more vivid. It's fun to do but it makes me think that designing curtain fabric or wrapping paper must be a complete doddle these days. It only takes a few minutes to create something like this. Dotty!

Not a landscape...

Sometimes when I'm on a wander with my camera, I collect textures and abstract shots to use in the future. Then when it's raining and I'm bored, I can sit at the computer and 'play', combining them and using special effects. I never know what is going to result but it's really fun to experiment.

This image started off as two different shots of old, fading paint on a canal boat. Combined with a plaster texture and a coloured layer, it ended up looking rather like a landscape - reminiscent of the Yorkshire Dales, perhaps?

Dogwood

I was fascinated by the brightly coloured dogwood bushes planted alongside the airport runway. With a clear blue sky, it seemed to make a rather good abstract - spoiled only, perhaps, by the perimeter fence. For some reason, it put me in mind of 'the most expensive photo ever sold', a photo of the River Rhine by Andreas Gursky (see HERE) which sold for $4.3 million in 2011, and which is now the second most expensive photo ever sold, having been beaten by the $6.5 million paid for a photo by Peter Lik in 2014. If anyone wants to offer me $2 million - a bargain price - for 'Dogwood', please get in touch!