We have some glorious skies during our monsoons season.
It’s easy to forget that the Salt River Wild Horses are just that … wild. I got this closeup using a 100mm lens, which means that I was very close to the horse, who had approached me. Within a few minutes, the horse got bored and moved on.
Most of them have deep gashes and cuts, evidence of their power and strength. They fight. They bite. They jostle for dominance. They are pure beauty.
If you are interested in more about the debate surrounding the Salt River Wild Horses:
And most recently, this disturbing news:
I took a friend from Shanghai to photograph our state’s treasure, The Grand Canyon. I was disappointed that I could not “give” her one of Arizona’s fabulous sunsets which would paint the canyon in a riot of colors and hues. When I viewed my images later, I realized that what we had captured might be as good as, or better than, the typical sunset photograph that is ubiquitous throughout the gift shops in Arizona and on the Internet.
We had waited patiently for sunset, just sure that the clouds would shift ever so slightly to allow the sun to give us a show. We watched the rain as it moved around the butte to form a soft curtain which made its path steadily toward us.
I’m sure that we looked absurd when we donned rain ponchos and held umbrellas above our cameras as we stubbornly stayed to capture the last bit of light and shadow in The Grand Canyon (and before the last shuttle departed).
Throughout the day, I had wished for a break in the clouds for the dance of light in the canyon. We got a few glorious moments.
Last week, I was blessed with time for myself with three days of solitude (with my cocker spaniel) in a cabin in the mountains, followed by two days of camping with my sons and their families. It’s been far too long since I’ve taken pictures just for myself, without worrying about pleasing the client. These were pure pleasure to shoot (along with the 1330 other images I captured during my retreat/vacation).
A photograph is more than an image frozen on paper or plastered on your computer screen; it is a recording of a moment in life.
I have a professional website. After a few jobs, I realized that I need a place to show the images and allow the clients to purchase prints. So here it is: R Howard Photography.
I guess that means I’m on my way to being a professional. Wish me luck.
I am including this shot of the butterfly for a few reasons: 1) It’s my favorite butterfly image so far, and 2) a butterfly seems appropriate right now because it represents new beginnings.
My dream is to create images that evoke some kind of response, that elicit emotions, but it is larger than that. I want to make an impact with my camera. I want to make a difference, even if it is in one person’s life. I don’t know how I will do that yet, but I believe in the power of the photograph.
A photograph is more than an image frozen on paper or plastered on your computer screen; it is a recording of a moment in life. When you look at the picture, your mind and heart see more than just an image, because you remember that moment and you recall the emotions you felt.
Even if you do not know the person in the photograph or have never physically experienced the scene portrayed in the picture, there could be something the image that touches you.
I want to capture those emotions; more than that, I want to convey those emotions.
Today, my older son and I took my granddaughter (umm…his daughter) ice skating. It was heartwarming to watch him teach her; he was patient, encouraging, loving, and fun.
I believe that if more children could spend time with their fathers, our world would be a lot better place.
My younger son became a father two days ago, and I can’t wait to watch him teach and play with his daughter. I know that he too will be a patient, encouraging, loving and fun father.