The Ones That Got Away

I was standing next to this group of pine tree stumps, buried, bleached and blown smooth by sun and sand.  I photographed this marvel many times throughout my various adventures to the dunes, but today, I wanted a different perspective.  I racked my lens out to 10mm, the widest it would go, and moved in as close as the lens allows (which is just under 12 inches).

A Different View

I wanted to make it seem as though the protruding root near the lower part of the left side of the frame was reaching out to draw the viewer in.  Through the lens it looked distorted and perfect, but being wrapped up in moment, I failed to realize this 2 dimensional photograph wouldn't hold up the same way as my feeling in that moment.  This is one that got away.

I was wrapping up a session on the dunes one evening, trying to make it back to the parking lot by a specific time, as I had a dinner date with friends later this particular evening.  It wouldn't be long now, I told myself over and over as one new fascination after another keep me shooting. I crested one dune only to find myself face to face with a sand formation I'd never seen the likes of during my entire travels.

Wonderwall

The southwest side of this dune had taken on a new life.  I wanted to photograph it for hours, all the details, the light of the setting sun, everything about it was perfect.  The only problem:  just as I set up the first frame, my phone started to ring.  It was Rebecca, my wife, telling me she was leaving the house without me and to hurry up or I'd be late for dinner.  Cursing myself for having a life and not finding this enigma earlier in my travels that day, I made a few more frames and left.  I never did make the photograph I wanted of this spectacle.  Wonderwall took its title from the fact I will always wonder what could have been.  This is one that got away.

The old pine stumps are a favorite subject of mine while I hike around the dunes.  One over cast day, I found myself wandering, not willing to give up the chance to make something new.  I found myself in a group of stumps near the base of a high dune.  It's a small valley, I seldom visited, because in the past, it was difficult to make vast landscapes.  This day, I found myself getting closer for details.

Broken

Crawling around in the cold sand, filling my pants, my pockets and even my beard with little reminders of my endeavors, I pushed myself lower, sometimes digging myself into the sand,  so I could shoot at a different angles.  This stump proved to be the most difficult of the bunch.  I just couldn't position myself in a way that flattered it or allowed me to show it the way I wanted.  While I like the photograph above and while I picked sand out of my teeth for days because of my image quest, this was also one that got away.

I'm not saddened by the ones that get away, they make me a stronger photographer in the end.  While these images will not grace the pages of the INVISIBLE book, the images and stories are worth telling.  After all, INVISIBLE has always been about the adventure, not the destination. 

Follow that Breeze

While we didn't feel the full effect of hurricane Sandy here in Michigan, we did have some extremely windy days.  I spent a few days chasing the wind along the shoreline, because my first visit to the Silver lake sand dunes left me with sand in my teeth after cresting the first hill.  It took less than 5 minutes to collect enough sand on my tripod and camera to know it wasn't worth ruining my gear.  I packed up to return another day.

The morning I returned, the wind wasn't nearly as violent, but still had a good 25-30 mph force behind it.  There weren't many places to hide from the breeze, but I did manage to find a few high dunes to block a little of the sand long enough to make a few nice frames.

Standing just over the edge of one of the dunes facing Silver lake, I planted my tripod deep in the sand for support.  Due to the high amount of wind, the sand was still rather loose, so getting a footing was not easy.  One step might put you ankle deep in sand, while the next one lands you knee high.  It's an unpredictable place and that's what I love about spending time climbing and hiking all over it.

The morning I made the following image, I was working on longer exposures to show motion over the sands.     

A Gentle Breeze

I had already captured a bunch of cool motion photographs, but this one holds a special place in my mind.  I was nearly knee deep in soft sand, blocking the wind from pelting my camera, or worse, knocking it down a steep dune.  The air was cold and harsh, but I was firmly planted in the side of the dune.  I made 2 exposures from this location before moving further down the dune and nearing losing my camera.  I wanted to find a better angle, which I will admit I did find, but that story, as well as the photograph, is being saved for the book.  Let me just say, I know what it feels like to be assaulted by high velocity sand cresting a dune.  Facing it head on, to make the photograph I wanted.  It's an incredible and somewhat painful experience.

Picking Up Where I Left Off

Falling is the easy part, it's finding the strength to get back up that's hard.

I hit a snag a few weeks ago.  I sprained my wrist, which kept me from doing any serious work on my computer for nearly 2 weeks.  Of course, as life would have it, I also lost an entire weekend to a nasty virus.  Spending 16-18 hours a day sleeping doesn't allow for much time to be productive.  Needless to say, this year started out with plenty of zing, but it also allowed a lot of little unforeseen hitches through the back door.   I could be frustrated.  I could just stop for now and pick up the project at a better time, but looking back at all that I have gone through, I realize, I owe it to myself to keep moving forward.

I thought of the day I hiked further than I'd ever gone on the Silver Lake sand dunes.  It wasn't a special day, until I pushed myself beyond my comfort zone.  I wanted to know what lay beyond the familiar horizon.  I was rewarded by a great number of opportunities that day and while this photograph didn't make it into the project, it's still a wonderful reminder for me of how far I was willing to push.

I hiked nearly 2 miles through the sand, unaware this tree would be waiting for me.  I had to wait for the sun to clear the clouds to make effective frames, but I managed to make several I was pleased with. 

I didn't give up that day, so I'm not going to let a few snags keep me from finishing the work I started.  No matter what stands in my way, I'm going to figure out a way around it.  This project is about more than some photographs I made, it's about the journey.  

The Things We Don't See

Beached

When I made the above photograph, I thought I was making something rather cool.  Plenty of textures in the wood grain, sand, and even a separation in the surrounding dunes.  All that changed the moment I showed it to Rebecca, my wife.  Her immediate response forever emblazoned a horrible truth in my interpretation of this once cool image.  When this particular photograph came up for approval or disapproval, she sat silent for a moment.  What came out of her mouth, ruined this photograph forever.

She turned to me and said:  "Do you want me to be honest?  It looks like a dolphin skull laying face down in the sand."  She quickly pointed out the eye near the top, as well as, the jawline and bottle nose pushed into the sand.  "Don't be mad, it's just what I see."

And now, all I will ever see when I look at this photograph, is the sadness of a dead dolphin, laying on a shoreline, beached.  I'm glad she pointed out the foible of my work, but for one brief moment, I really wanted to see that cool textured piece of drift wood once more.  I just don't think it will ever happen. 

Fitting In

The final selections are being made and organized.  Things have been moving slow this week, due in part to an injury, but rest assured the project is still moving forward.  I might be a week behind, but I'll make sure to work harder once I'm healed.  

Speaking of working hard, as I look over the selected photographs from the last 8 months, I realized just how much I pushed myself, how many days I could have slept in, done any number of other things on my long list, but instead, I chose to improve myself and this project.

It's been such an extended, drawn out process to select the photographs that fit each adventure and story.  It's a difficult thing to look at something you're emotionally attached to, only to move it to the recycle bin.  It's a necessary step, not only for the project, but for my own personal growth as well.

For example, take a look at this photograph:

Fitting In

At first glance, it may seem normal.  A single leaf, caught by the blowing sands.  How many photographs of a single leaf in the sand have you seen?  I can think of dozens, and not the photographs I made in the past.  That's not the only reason this photograph ended up here on the blog and not in the book.  It didn't fit.  

What does that mean, it doesn't fit?  It means there are numerous elements that were present at the time I decided to press the shutter.  Unfortunately, something happened along the way and this photograph lost the original feelings I had.  The more I view it, the more I realize, I didn't manage to capture the essence of the moment.  

Now, I know I've been showing the mistakes for the first few posts, but there's a reason for that.  If I only showed the book images, there would be no reason to write the book.  I want to make this project the best that I can.  That's why, I decided early on, that I will not include examples of good and bad photographs for discussion.  I'm showing the best photographs and the stories that go along with them in the book, which means, there's no room for the mistakes.  That's not to say they're not important, or part of the story, but let's face the facts:  would you buy a book that's full of mistakes and great work?  Or, would you rather have the best I can provide?  Since the choice is mine to make, I choose to show the best of my adventures.  

I will eventually start to show runner up photographs and some of the reasons they missed the mark, but photographs for the book will remain unseen until the project is finished.  I'm mean that way.  Bare with me and know the best is yet to come.
  

Keeping it Simple

One of the biggest challenges I'm facing with the INVISIBLE project is selecting the right photographs to tell the story.  While the format of the book is a photo book mixed with short stories highlighting the many places, various adventures and occasional misadventures I had while learning to photograph in infrared, it's still about the photographs.  

Choosing one image over an other is a daunting task.  The following image, cut for a number of reasons, is still a nice photograph.  The issue is clear, it just didn't help to tell the story.

Ripples

I have dozens of photographs like the one above.  Many of them will find a way to this blog, as I feel they hold a place in my quest, but they missed the mark for the INVISIBLE project.

*Please remember all images are Creative Commons, Non-Commercial

*Please feel free to share or use for personal projects, but remember to

1.   Link back to www.invisibleirjourney.blogspot.com or the post from which photographs were shared.

2.   Make sure to give credit where credit is due.  I love to share and post, but remember I'm a person too.  It doesn't take long to say photograph by Travis W. Forbear or cut and paste a link.  

Becoming INVISIBLE

I'm so excited to announce INVISIBLE - An Infrared Journey.  I've been pushing myself to the point of punishment some days to make sure this dream would become a reality for me. INVISIBLE will be my first book.  Yes, you read that last sentence correct, my first book.  I've been wanting to create a book for years, but I lacked the right project.  I finally found my true calling.  I found the one thing I am passionate enough about to push myself to the limits of my ability and beyond.  

The easy part of the project is finished.  I have made all the photographs I planned for the book.  But, there's more.  I still have to select the best photographs, finish the stories and design the layout.  For me, the journey is only beginning.  This is the part where I make the commitment.  This is the part that will define my personal success.  I'm a project starter, but I often loose my focus along the way.  This time is different.  My focus is sharper.  I'm making goals, reaching them and going farther than I ever imagined.  

There have been days when I wanted to sleep in, not hike any further, not change a lens and challenge myself, but one day several months ago, something inside me changed.  Instead of saying no to an opportunity, I said yes.  That yes is the voice in my head, telling me to push a little harder.  To take one more step.  Then, one more.  And when I think I have nothing left, I make one more step, one more photograph.  Some of the best work of this project has come from those extra steps, the refusal to quit.  It's that voice in my head that keeps me waking early to write, plan and get moving, so I can make better photographs.

For the first time in my life as a photographer, I know how I want to photograph the world.  I've been making photographs for years, but I've never had the pure elation I get from photographing in infrared.  That doesn't mean I will stop photographing subjects in color.  No, I'll still challenge myself to try new ways, new angles, and new processes, but at the end of the day, my heart will remain in the invisible realm.  

I've taken the first few steps, but there are so many more to be made.  I've made my choice to keep moving forward, now it's your turn.  You make the decision to follow along. If you've come this far, what's one more step?  The journey starts now.  It's up to you to follow along, or to decline the offer.

Nemo

The name of the above photograph is taken from Nemo, the dreamer. This project started out with a dream.  A desire to make photographs in infrared.  When the dream became a reality, I could have stopped.  I could have become complacent, making safe photographs.  That almost happened, but then something clicked, I realized I would never be satisfied until I pushed myself beyond the comfort of safety.  More than anything, that's what INVISIBLE is for me.  It's pushing past the known.  It's about moving into an unseen future.  

I'm including this photograph from the project because it's a mistake.  I made a lot of mistakes.  I missed a lot of photographs I wanted to make.  I failed more than I succeeded some days, but I didn't quit.  Instead, I worked harder.  I made more plans.  I studied more. I practiced.  And in the end, I still missed the occasional photograph.

There is so much left to do.  I've witnessed the many paths I could follow, but I've decided to make my own.  Follow along if you will.