Photo Journal

One man's adventure in photography, poetry, and thought.
© copyright Todd Alan Kraft 2011-2016 All rights reserved.
All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
These are working notes, and I reserve the right to amend, modify, and redact at any time, and without notice.

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Blog posts tagged in lighting: sunrise and sunset

Your Pressured Stance Won't Change My Mind

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Your Pressured Stance Won't Change My Mind

[ Perhaps Adagio to Pizzicato. Act I ]

Your pressured stance won't change my mind:
it does no good to threaten me.
Beyond this mast, a hostile sea,
I think you've found yourself a bind.

So put away your steel-edged sword.
your pressured stance won't change my mind.
There are these things you can't afford
when block and tackle troops unwind.

These worldly things have made you blind:
you lust for blood, you lust for gold.
Your pressured stance won't change my mind:
this mockery that I behold.

Uncross your eyes from thoughts confined
to arrogance devoid of might.
What violence will this act incite?
Your pressured stance won't change my mind.

The poem might fit into Adagio's Tale.

A photograph of a dead limb before a sunset.

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In Memory, We Soon Forget

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In Memory, We Soon Forget

[ Possible Epilogue for Allegro (looking at a sunset) ]

In memory, we soon forget
the details lost to soft vignette:
these shadows that stand in the way,
of gilded world our hearts portray.

From edges rounded by the years,
in memory, we soon forget:
coerced by time to soft abet,
amassed in joy, and stripped of tears.

Love will not wait in plank or line,
so, do not harbor stone regret.
In memory, we soon forget:
rebounding seas in fall and climb.

Relieve the wound to fading scar,
mend the deck with pitch and tar,
accede the field to lone cornet:
in memory, we soon forget.

Back to Adagio's Tale.

A photograph of a river inlet. An alternative color lookup table (CLUT) gives the almost unreal blue to the water.

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Open Arms

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Open Arms

the tempo of the morning sky
beats across a placid ocean
the clouds invite the rising sun
to open up its arms

There are things we can not control; there are things we can not predict.

A photograph of a sunrise above the ocean with the sun peeking thru the clouds.

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Pastel Morning

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Pastel Morning

the morning awakes to its first breath
when twilight is punctured by its first rays
the day begins: hesitant and undecided
its pastels rejoice across a savory sky

Despair breeds hope.

A photograph of a sunrise, with foam washed upon the beach.

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Birds On The Beach at Sunrise: Blurring and Sharpening

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Birds On The Beach at Sunrise: Blurring and Sharpening

the birds wade as water pushes inland
it gathers mass and then exhales
back into the breaking surf

You never walk the same beach twice.

A side-by-side examination of selective blurring and sharpening of the lightness channel (LAB) in an iPad image.

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Twigs at Sunset

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Twigs at Sunset

[Coming to a vehicle near you?]

Driver: "Siri, turn down the radio."
Siri: "I don't like your tone of voice."
Driver: "Siri, turn down the @#$% $%^& radio."
Siri: "Now was THAT necessary?"
Driver: "Siri, would you PLEASE turn down the radio?"
Siri: "That's better. I found four places matching 'anger management'; they're pretty far from you."

A photograph of a sunset on a cloudy day behind twigs with the Lab lightness channel sharpened.

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Lens Flare Is Beautiful

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Lens Flare Is Beautiful

I looked into your settings suns
I climbed across your jagged peaks
I nestled in your needled arms
and humbled at your rare mystique

A photograph of lens flare with the sun, snow, and trees behind. I shot a night club with a EVO camera phone, and the lens flare was spectacular. This is my first real attempt at photographing lens flare. It's a mediocre shot, but it's a beginning. Please take precautions when shooting into the sun; I use the back panel view screen so that I don't have to look directly. Of course, if you're not careful, you might burn a hole in your camera sensor. There are varying opinions on this matter, and you should read a few articles and forums before setting out. "Needled arms" are pine needles. And yes, in the shade, snow is blue. Even so, the white balance looks funky to me, and I played with the image for awhile (my fourth attempt). In some places the white looks too green, and in others, too magenta. Cameras: misrepresenting the world you see, one picture at a time.

If you take photographs, enjoy sunrises and sunsets, or are just curious about the world, take a look at SunCalc.net. Punch in a location, a date and time, and find out when the sun rises, sets, and its location.

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(still) Waiting for a Train

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(still) Waiting for a Train

on a number line
I spent my time
waiting for a train

A photograph of snow, train tracks, and the sunset. A 35mm prime lens @f/22, and a purposefully maxed-out ISO didn't come up "dirty" enough, so more noise was added on the computer. Notice the white balance is "wrong," the slightly canted frame, the saturation curve that presents the green between the tree branches among other things. I think for a fraction of a second, I departed from "them," and arrived at "me."

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Three Sunsets

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Three Sunsets

The ebb and flood of brilliant sun
descends above these marshy lands,
by waters lost to fickle run
and sunset's light to studied bands.
This blessed glow of fading day
begins to kneel, and starts to pray.

A photograph of a sunset over the bay. An English sestet as found in Lewis Carroll's (at Project Gutenberg) THREE SUNSETS.

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The Bird on a Wire

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The Bird on a Wire

don't pull up the blinds
just let down your hair
sunset in the afternoon
the bird on the wire

A photograph of a mourning dove on power lines as the sun sets. A tenuous near rhyme selected from a multitude of close rhymes. For amusement, see: http://songmeanings.com/songs/view/70180/ for a discussion of Leonard Cohen's "Bird on the Wire." If you read the comments, you might find the same amazement I found... was Cohen really thinking about all those issues, or was he simply cramming some lyrics and rhymes into a meter, and trying to put food on the table? I restate my case, meaning is quite often (more often than not?) about the reader, not the author. In this sense, what author meant, assuming he "meant" something, is subordinate to what the audience understands.

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