The Bristlecone Pines
Focusing on more creative work aside from covers or fashion spreads that demand a certain conformity , catering to the needs and expectations of the magazine readers and advertisers is a much needed counterbalance in a faced paced world that I capture here and there.
I certainly enjoy the challenge of a seemingly impossible shoot, fashion or celebrity, often requested with very little advance notice and high expectations on the other end.
And I do these things with equal passion - it is fun to do the impossible.
I am currently working on a personal project that I am planning to exhibit soon and shooting personal work like the one I am now brings up memories and emotions that I've almost forgotten about and reminds me of what drives me and situations that I encounter that most people might rather walk away from.
Like last November, on another quest for new inspiration and locations to shoot, I've discovered an image of the Bristlecone Pine and I was stunned - supposedly the oldest living organisms on earth, with some being 5000 years old , possibly more.
These stunning trees grow in a place where everything dies - harsh winds in almost 12.000 feet high elevations, cold temperatures, dry soils and short growing seasons.
Ironically, the very same tree in the lower elevation portion of the White Mountain Range rarely grows older than 500 years.
Deadly conditions to support a seemingly eternal life form. A funny place this earth is....
When you arrive, you're slightly dizzy at first. Then disoriented, and possibly pass out, like I did. Twice.
I did not know that elevation sickness wasn't just some obscure myth ... the second time I lost consciousness while walking around with my camera, pushing the button with nearly frozen fingers in the middle of a snow storm.
A hiker had found me before my body could have turned into a dead one.
Where did the lady in the green jacket come from? I am sure someone wants me to stick around.
Maybe Pearl Buck can explain what drives me ?
So I'm still here. And these are some photos from my first scout.
The truly creative mind in any field is a human creature born abnormally, inhumanely sensitive.
To them... a touch is a blow, a sound is a noise, a misfortune is a tragedy, a joy is an ecstasy, a friend is a lover, a lover is a god, and failure is death.
Add to this cruelly delicate organism the overpowering necessity to create, create, create - so that without the creating of music or poetry or books or buildings or something of meaning, their very breath is cut off...
They must create, must pour out creation.
By some strange, unknown, inward urgency they are not really alive unless they are creating.
Pearl Buck
I certainly enjoy the challenge of a seemingly impossible shoot, fashion or celebrity, often requested with very little advance notice and high expectations on the other end.
And I do these things with equal passion - it is fun to do the impossible.
I am currently working on a personal project that I am planning to exhibit soon and shooting personal work like the one I am now brings up memories and emotions that I've almost forgotten about and reminds me of what drives me and situations that I encounter that most people might rather walk away from.
Like last November, on another quest for new inspiration and locations to shoot, I've discovered an image of the Bristlecone Pine and I was stunned - supposedly the oldest living organisms on earth, with some being 5000 years old , possibly more.
These stunning trees grow in a place where everything dies - harsh winds in almost 12.000 feet high elevations, cold temperatures, dry soils and short growing seasons.
Ironically, the very same tree in the lower elevation portion of the White Mountain Range rarely grows older than 500 years.
Deadly conditions to support a seemingly eternal life form. A funny place this earth is....
When you arrive, you're slightly dizzy at first. Then disoriented, and possibly pass out, like I did. Twice.
I did not know that elevation sickness wasn't just some obscure myth ... the second time I lost consciousness while walking around with my camera, pushing the button with nearly frozen fingers in the middle of a snow storm.
A hiker had found me before my body could have turned into a dead one.
Where did the lady in the green jacket come from? I am sure someone wants me to stick around.
Maybe Pearl Buck can explain what drives me ?
So I'm still here. And these are some photos from my first scout.
The truly creative mind in any field is a human creature born abnormally, inhumanely sensitive.
To them... a touch is a blow, a sound is a noise, a misfortune is a tragedy, a joy is an ecstasy, a friend is a lover, a lover is a god, and failure is death.
Add to this cruelly delicate organism the overpowering necessity to create, create, create - so that without the creating of music or poetry or books or buildings or something of meaning, their very breath is cut off...
They must create, must pour out creation.
By some strange, unknown, inward urgency they are not really alive unless they are creating.
Pearl Buck
posted by Beatrice Neumann at 9:14 PM
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