There has been a shift in my photography. I am not sure if it’s the move from high desert to the pacific northwest, or just a shift in how I edit and see the light, but one thing is certain, my work has shifted. I am thinking it is the later of the two, or perhaps as a result of the first. Am I losing you? I’m a bit lost too, don’t worry. Last March, my family and I moved from Northern Nevada to the Western Washington. The light is different here, the world is different here (dust desert browns vs. lush vibrant greens). While in the Puget Sound region, I don’t have reliable mountain ranges to keep me oriented as I drive. Yes, yes. There is the glorious Mount Rainier. But she slides in and out of view when she pleases, causing gasps, oohs, and awws from even the most native of Washingtonian and devoted Seahawk fan alike. The ocean, which has always been to the west of me, surrounds the gnome hat shaped peninsula I reside on and keeps me guessing as I navigate around town as to where my soggy Wheaties are (you know, Never Eat Soggy Wheaties- that helpful play on North East South West that you learn in high school geography class?) What does this all have to do with how I see the light and the world around me? And what oh what does this have to do with photography. Well, everything… knowing where your south facing window is critical for not only house plants, but for that natural light that so many of us love to shoot in. The latitude adjusts the amount of daylight available during the 24hour period in a day. This length varies in a much greater way when you are further from the equator. Deep in the winter months, the golden hour was around 3:30pm and in the heat of the summer, it could be as late as 8:30 or 9pm. Add this to the cloud and fog cover (of which I am told has been mild this year) this region of the United States is famous for and you might not see hard cast shadows for a week or two straight. The softness of the light can be a dream come true. Even light, predictable light. However, I grew up in the high contrast, the high key light of the high desert. My photography and my eye saw the world in deeply carved out shapes. And I still see this way when I put the camera to my eye, but living in the Pacific Northwest has trained me to be more aware of the shadows, those lights and darks that were everywhere before are further and further between. Living in both climes, I now understand more deeply how to play in the light, to see the shadows dancing on the wall. I notice the sparkle when it wraps itself around the curls of a nearby, beautiful head of hair. I am stopped in my tracks when the light draws a rim around my subject and allows him, or her to pop and suddenly have depth in a two-dimensional frame. I did a small test while on vacation last month. What would it be like shooting in bright, hot sun that was consistently available all day long? Would I be able to capture images in the way I was up north? My work and my eye HAVE indeed shifted. I was able to capture and create images with the same mood as I get here at home. What this tells me is that the move has helped me train my eye to see in a new way. Perhaps in a way that other photographers already did or do see and I wasn’t noticing before. But the relocation has given me a greater appreciation for the sunlight, and I love where it is taking me artistically. I can feel and the story I am trying to tell so much more now than even just a year ago. It’s a depth in my work that I had been chasing after but hadn’t really understood until now.

I am wondering if you have seen a shift in your own work and what do you think has caused or been the root of that shift? Was it a new lens (the last time my world was rocked like this was when I bought my first prime, the nifty fifty)? Was it an editing or lighting technique you learned along the way?  Was it a book, like the one Debbie was truly inspired by in her post last week? Or, like Kirstin mentioned the many ways to inspire our art with “the new”.

Share with us today how you have seen your work grow and evolved over time. What inspired your shifting?

Keep chasing the light,  Vanessa