photoflow: shift happens

my photo of my neighbor's antique pinocchio was featured on shuttersisters "picture winter" gallery a couple days ago. picture winter is an e-photography class offered by shuttersisters founder / photographer & teacher extraordinaire / sweet soul tracey clark.  

i have to say i like this image. there is something so sweet about this little guy ... his feet dangling off the edge of the mantle, his peaceful smile, his arms relaxed but ready to spring into action. he reminds me of little boys, in their own dreamworld but ready to jump up and participate in this world when the time is right.

i also like that i included the pink wood cutout moulding on top. and that i muted the colors a bit.

part of photography is about knowing how to use the camera and lens well enough to get what we want: exposure, focus, depth of field, all the mechanics ... thinking activity. and the other part of photography is all about heart and feelings and intuition ... making photographic choices by feeling them, the way a painter paints and just knows from the heart where to use what color, texture, shape.

with many of my portraits over the years, i often opted for an absolutely plain background, making the subject even more prominent. i've always liked a clean look. but lately i include some context, some background, even if just a little. here, this moulding angles just enough to create some framing, some "place" for the little guy.

and sometimes i get a little (lot!) heavy with the vibrance and saturation sliders in lightroom, making the colors *pop.* but other times, i'm seeing the beauty in subtlety. 

we really are changing all the time. our tastes change, or at least shift, as long as we're still breathing, or depending on our mood. photographs are a great record of our own feelings, over time, or of a specific time. a diary in image form. and sometimes they show us a subtle shift we didn't even know had occurred. like rereading last year's journal pages, we can see how we have evolved and what tendencies remain.

My portraits are more about me than they are about the people I photograph.  ~Richard Avedon