Nashville, TN

Last month I flew down to Nashville to spend some much needed time with a very dear friend. The first time we've had a chance to laugh together in the same space in over three years.  (Count 'em, 3.)

I met Dani on the first day of freshman orientation my first year at Towson. Though she transferred by the time sophomore year started, she's since become a cherished source of  friendship, laughter, and understanding in my life.

I've been fortunate enough to find myself in Tennessee a few times in the last handful of years. But this was my first time flying there. How strange to land in a place you've taken up fond affection for, without following the yellow lines and curving roads to get there.

The view from the sky was fantastic. But I missed the slow driving weave into Tennessee air. The hills and valleys that lead you through the landscape and into towns and cities.

We set aside time to meander our way through trees and river bed at Cummins Falls State Park, an 80 minute drive east of Nashville.

And to order too much fried food at the Country Boy Restaurant in Leiper's Fork.

Tennessee to me is the oxygen, the pace, the southern comfort.  The curves in the road and the trees lining those curves. The music.  And most importantly, the people there who make it feel like Home.

Tennessee, You are Loved. <3

KM

vermont cabin grounds

Last fall, my best friend and I took a weekend trip up north to Vermont. These are the grounds of the Sclafani's cabin.

(p.s. I have it on a good source that you can rent their spot here.)

It's not that I haven't been inspired lately,

It's just that too much thinking has kept the momentum created by inspiration to a minimum.

But then last week, a very good friend of mine asked me to help her with the photography for a new project she's putting together. She's someone I never hesitate to help, and with the option to spend a good chunk of my day taking photographs and "playing," I was 100% in.

We had a great time taking the first set of photos, but when I began to edit them in my usual "playful" way, I began to get frustrated by my lack of control over each of the elements and also my inability to keep a standard editing process.  While we both agreed the results turned out very nice, I realized it's time to step up my game, or risk staying at the same skill level I have now.

The photo below is not from the photoshoot I just mentioned. But it is one of the first photographs I've edited while trying out new software. (http://www.acdsee.com/en/free-trials.) And I have to say, I feel newly inspired with momentum after my first couple of passes. 

The photo below was taken while driving through Colorado last February. We were on our way to spending the afternoon snowmobiling across The Great Divide, when I spotted what I can only describe as a crater of a mountain out the window.

With every right bend, left bend, then right bend around the mountain range, this beauty moved from car window to car window. No matter where we turned, or whether it disappear for a few minutes behind a closer peak, this crater-mountain always (re-)appeared in view.

I was enchanted by the snow sweeping across the indented rock, and how it filled the nooks and crevices of the hard earth. One of the most beautiful sights I'd ever seen, I snapped photos from out the window, at every angle I could, as we passed. 

Yes, this was taken from a moving Saturn Vue. 

Most of my favorite photos are taken on the fly, in the flurry of a moment, in the in-between poses, in the photo you just had to snap even if it was going to turn out crooked or blurry or "un-usable." (I don't think unusable is a valid description in photography; just a photo asking you to be more creative with how you highlight its content and present it. But that's a conversation for later.)

Black and white photography has held a special place in my creative heart since college, especially when it comes to portraits.  Consider this my portrait of a crater-mountain I'll likely never know the name of, but which I'll always remember playing hide-and-seek with.

(While I do intend to post these kinds of photos and blogs more consistently on this site, I do post almost daily over on my "everything goes" tumblr blog.  If you're interested in following my creative process more regularly, please feel free to check out surfinnsb.tumblr.com.  Thanks for reading!)

Glacier National Park, Montana, USA

Glacier National Park

Montana, USA 

March 2013

I still can't get over the aquamarine clarity of the winter waters in Glacier National Park.

The day Libby, David, and I reached Glacier, much of the park's roads had already been closed for months due to snow. But we trecked through the tightly packed snow to get as much of a glimpse of the park's beauty as possible.

The skies were clear as we parked the car and headed on our path, but we soon found ourselves in a frenzy of snowflakes.  Surrounded by pure white and tall evergreens, that highly-oxygenated air has probably been the purest I've ever breathed.  

I'm drawn to the deep turquoise and greens in this photo, and the warm browns of the rockbed underneath the flowing water. As I look at this one, I can almost hear the rushing water of the small waterfall just over my left shoulder.  

It's a thought that makes me smile. 

 

Great Ocean Road, Australia

This is a photo I originally took back in 2008 while studying abroad in Australia. It's a photo I've always loved, and I recently decided that with my excitement for photo editing growing, it might be a good one to revisit.

Great Ocean Road

Melbourne, Australia

May/June 2008

Australia, for me, was somewhat of a spiritual and emotional roller coaster. Drawn to the country with the idea that something I needed to experience waited for me there, I arrived wide-eyed and expectant of a life-affirming journey. Or at least a wonderful half-year living by beach, swimming in the waves, free from everything that I felt to be stifling me back home.

The day I took this photo I bounced from excited, to sad, to homesick, to frustrated. Staring out at the ocean, the closest land ahead of me was Antartica, thousands of miles south. It was the first time I truly saw the curvature of the Earth. Nothing in front of me but blue, blue ocean -- round and endless and magnificent. The distance between me and my loved ones at that moment was both awesome and frightening.

Looking at this photo now, I can remember the drizzle in the air. The wonder at how round and curved our planet Earth is. My love of the open horizon, and my disdain for the unreachable human connection I sought back home.

 

 

Big Sur

I snapped this photo while driving north on US HWY 1 from San Diego last year, thanks to some road construction and a willingness to hop out of the car while waiting for traffic to get moving again.

near Big Sur, California

March 2013

There are some people who thrive in the hustle of Manhattan -- I'm just not one of them.

About this time last year, I began to realize that despite my best efforts and positive outlook, my hard work and dedication to my education and my career were not bringing me the satisfaction or the fulfillment I had anticipated. I knew before I accepted my first job in Manhattan that the big-city, five day-a-week commute was not for me. But I did believe my passion for books and editing would make the hustle of New York City worth my time and discomfort. Within months I began to feel disheartened by the lifestyle -- by the daily reminders that I would always be rushing to play catch-up, that the email inbox would never clear, that there would never be enough hours in the work day to finish the list of tasks I'd laid out. I felt shattered by my own inability to rise to the task, to put on a happy face, to commit to the life I had said I had wanted.

Furthermore, there was an incessant nagging at the back of my brain (and at the very front of my heart) telling me that I was ignoring my passion and creativity. That I was rushing through the hours of my day without paying attention to my own and others' humanity. I was denying my urge to live every moment fully, to truly see the people in front of me, to breathe fresh air and smile into the sun -- these very basic, but very important things, that many of us give up in order to pay the bills, to succeed in the eyes of others, to accomplish our goals (rightfully so).

When approached with the opportunity to travel the United States for two months with my friend Libby and her friend David (I'd never even met him before agreeing to join them on the road!), I knew immediately it was an experience I wanted to have. I'd talked of driving across country since college, considered selling band-merch on tour, loved driving from New York to Florida as a child on family vacations. I began to recognize that, for me, what makes life worthwhile is waking up each day and staying true to the ideals I hold as truth.  I believe we are all able to build the lives we seek, as long as we are willing to stand up for them and are willing to give ourselves the freedom to take the opportunities we truly desire.

And so here I am, just about a year out from that decision to walk away from my publishing carreer, about nine months from the date we left New York, and seven months from setting foot back in New York wondering where the heck do  I go from here?

These last seven months I've let myself off the hook from answering to anyone else's expectations for me and my own plans for me, as well. I've woke when I wanted to, dressed how I wanted to, photographed, visited, played, sang, and enjoyed just being myself. I've started a freelance editing business; I've wanted many times to start a blog. But it wasn't until very recently that I finally found what my heart had been screaming inside about for so long.

And so here is my website, where I hope to share my photos and my art, and sometimes the stories that go along with them. (All photos are clickable, FYI, for a larger view.)

I'll start with this photo from early Summer 2013.

Sunset, Jones Beach Bait & Tackle, Long Island NY

June 2013

The afternoon I took this photo was overcast and stormy, though you likely hadn't guessed so by looking at this particular shot. It was late afternoon when I looked outside and saw storm clouds coming in from Northern Long Island. I grabbed my camera and figured I'd watch the clouds roll in over Jones Beach (on the bay side), listen to the rain, and simply just enjoy whatever mother nature decided to bring.

When I got to Jones, the sun rays were struggling to come through the clouds, though occasionally they did. I spent an hour or so taking photos of people fishing, seagulls flying around, a few kids paddle boarding, before the drizzle--and then full rain--started. I waited out the storm in my car for maybe a half-hour before the rain moved away out past the bay-side of Jones Beach and on to the ocean. As it did, the sun started to peak out creating a rainbow I could spy from my front windshield. It wasn't long before I couldn't stand to sit in the car any longer; I wrapped my camera in my sweatshirt and hopped back outside.  

The last of the rain trickled out, and excited by both the rainbow and the impending sunset, I ran around the J.B. Bait and Tackle pier taking photos of everything I could.  By the time I snapped this one, the sun was already sinking down, but I loved how the water of the bay reflected the yellows, pinks, and oranges of the sky above it.

I love the hard lines the dock creates here and the way the water shimmers with light. I try to edit most of my photos with a light hand, though this one I thought deserved a little extra vividness, as the afternoon was stunning to me from beginning to end -- from overcast, to cloudy, to storm, to rainbow, to sunset.

I'm sure I'll be posting more from this afternoon later down the line -- I just have too many favorites to choose fairly right now.   : )

 

Thank you for making it to the end of the first post!