Fall colors change in the Northeast, a tourist destination, an annual economic spike drawing individuals from all over the world to view the green foliage of Spring and Summer turn to yellows, oranges and reds of all shades and tones. Under the colorful canopy lies a world of kaleidoscope warmth as sunlight filters through, providing the last kiss of warmth to the cooling ground.

The Rocky Mountains boast Aspen trees that transform to shimmering silver dollar leaves of gold and bronze as temperatures descend toward their winter slumbers. Without question, a grove of Aspen is a tranquil sanctuary as the breeze gently blows through and the orchestra of colored leaves moves into song.

The California coastline has a magical Fall occurrence as well, not well publicized, it doesn’t draw tourists, in fact it drives them home. It can be dangerous, prompting warning for low visibility along the spaghetti mazes of roadways traversing the “Golden State”. I first recall being seduced by the encroaching fog in Santa Barbara while attending Brooks Institute of Photography. The summer throngs of visitors meandering up and down State Street and Stearns Wharf had all returned to their abodes and a resident could once again travel across town via the 101 and main roads without the crowds. I still often chose the back roads to return home atop the Mesa neighborhood I called home for three years. I noted the thick blanket that appeared to be rolling over the Mesa as though it was tucking a young child to sleep. As I slowly traveled up the two lane road along the back side of the Mesa I saw the patches, rolling, sliding….flying through trees, across yards, soft patches that had broken from the main blanket. By the time I reached home, visibility was minimal, pairs of glowing lights becoming slowly visible as cars tread carefully to and thro. I walked the few blocks down to the beach access, Thousand Steps, known affectionally for the number of steps required to feel the sand between your toes from the elevated mesa perch. I couldn’t see the Pacific, but was drawn down the steps to its edge.

Since that day, as Summer turns to Fall, and the air temperatures fall rapidly atop the Pacific, I look to the coast as the day turns to dusk, searching for signs…..signs that my love may be approaching. In November 2009, I saw the blanket in the distance beginning its descent, I headed to the coast. Often, extreme tide coincide with the Fall fog, and this evening greeted me with the perfect pair. I visited alone this first evening, reveling in the sound of the sea, unseen but heard coming from the west. To the east, the sound of unseen cars traveling the coast highway, an occasional voice as someone comes into view, but speaking in soft voices. The softness of the fog, the silence of it, brings it visitors to a quiet peace. A sanctuary of unseen clarity truly, nothing to distract from ones thoughts, simply a blanket of gray and distance sounds. The following afternoon, I invited a guest, my wife. I wanted to share with her, hoping she would “see” what I “saw” in the vastness of nothingness. That evening, inspired by her and the elements, I captured this image, a visual representation of the feelings within. The lone seaweed patch, like I, before the soft tones and movement of the sea through the vision of the Fog.

Do I hope the Fog of the California Coastline becomes the next tourist attraction in the Fall season? Selfishly, no, I don’t, but just like that quaint new restaurant or unknown artist you discover, you want to share with others so that they too can experience and admire your found passion.

I’m a big believer in opportunity. Each project I photograph represents an opportunity to either reassure an existing client that they are working with the right photographer or in the case of a new client that they made the right selection. Recently I had the opportunity to work with a new client Outdoor Living Brands, and specifically their landscape lighting division, Outdoor Lighting Perspectives. Larry Spada of Outdoor Living Brands contacted me based on a referral from my long time client, Belgard Hardscapes, both significant product manufacturers in the every growing outdoor living market. The goal of the project may appear somewhat straight forward, multiple locations in Charlotte, NC in August; capturing a range of outdoor living spaces to illustrate the dramatic difference outdoor landscape lighting can bring to your home. To enhance the story of the images, each location would have a theme, an event of sorts that would include people as well. A few key words you might want to highlight in the summary of the project, August, Southeast, Outdoor, hmmm, well yes it can be rather normal that time of year in the Southeast to deal with afternoon thunderstorms. Also I should mention a technical lighting issue, photographing at dusk, necessary to illustrate the effect of outdoor lighting, usually is most successful utilizing tungsten lights and typically longer exposures. Exposures in the 30 second range are quite typical in these lighting situations, however, incorporate people into the mix, teenage boys in a swimming pool for that matter and, well, holding still for that length of time wasn’t going to be an option for the talent. So, let’s dive right into how we succeeding in producing the images to meet the clients needs.

Our first location was the intimate neighborhood gardens of Wing Haven and the setting for a mother and son, an evening story, teddy bear in grasp as the garden is engulfed by the warm, comforting illumination of Outdoor Lighting Perspectives fixtures. A mid morning scouting visit presented our first project challenge, MOSQUITOES!!! A strand of wisdom to pass along, if at 11AM the mosquitoes are swarming like the Lilliputians in Gulliver’s Travels, well let’s just say you have two options for a 8PM photo shoot, either make reservations at your nearest blood bank for transfusions or you call in the Mosquito Squad. Quite convenient actually, Larry had a bit of a connection, Mosquito Squad happens to be a division of Outdoor Living Brands. Problem solved, blood bank reservation cancelled and the photography went smoothly. This initial location also allowed for the outstanding team that we put together for the project to really mesh. In addition to Larry, Martin Speer with Outdoor Living Brands was on site, Ken Brantley, the local Charlotte lighting franchisee patiently placed lights wherever we asked, Timur with Blackbox Studios provided assistance and local knowledge, Sissy Duncan with Simply Beautiful Artistry handled hair, makeup and talent support, and lastly my trusty assistance, Zack Benson, an accomplished photographer in his own right and a phenomenal second set of eyes on any project.

Our next location, the classic pool party, enjoyed by guests of all ages, and when I mention guests, it was 14 to be exact. The entire team realized this was going to be our most challenging evening. The sheer number of people, expanse of space, 40 ft plus trees to illuminate, all challenges and then that traditional afternoon thunderstorm began to rumble in the distance. Two hours before “go time” and all the talent is indoors, watching the rain fall and wind blow across our “pool party” set. At about 1.5 hours to “go time” Zack approached me, grinning a bit, really what else could you do, and asked, “so whatcha thinking?”. My response, with a matched grin, “We are going to be fine, it’s going to blow over and actually its going to really help us, going to cool things down for the talent”, at that point I’m essentially trying to convince myself of what I’m saying. Over the next 30 minutes there are a few meetings, I reassure Larry and Martin that everything is going to be fine, it will blow through, figuring the more I present the idea, just maybe the weather gods will hear me. Then updating all the talent on our game plan, which essentially was, this is all going to work out, but we are going to be working in a little tighter window so we discussed the plan in depth. Then a pep talk with the production team, laying out our lighting configurations, as we utilized tungsten for the overall set, then switched to strobe to capture the set with talent. We all had our tasks, from cleaning areas of the set, setting props, positioning lighting, all to happen as soon as the rain ceased. With 45 minutes until dusk, the rain finally lifted and let’s just say I think our team could land a grounds crew job at any Major League Baseball stadium of their choosing, it was impressive and the challenge of weather provide a terrific opportunity to showcase the talent of the team.

At this point in the project, I figured I’d used up most of my nine lives, the logistics of trying to rework schedules for talent numbering 14 is significant, so I really thought we’d enjoyed all the breaks we’d receive. I do know for a fact, that after the project above, the family homecoming, I definitely had used up all of my nine lives. The forecast was rather definitive, 100% chance of afternoon thunderstorms. Reminding me of the dialogue between Mary and Lloyd in the classic comedy, Dumb and Dumber, where Lloyd is pressing Mary for the odds of them ending up together, Mary explains that its a one in a million chance, to which Lloyd, responds, “So you’re telling me there’s a chance!” For us on this night, it was going to be all about when and where, the storms would hit. The location happened to be near a golf course and that proved to be our savior. I can’t tell you exactly how many miles away lightning is to trigger the “clear the golf course” sirens, but I can tell you its enough time to nail two different angles on a home exterior with multiple lighting setups and talent. I was trying to hold out as long as possible, once again everyone involved, from crew to talent, knew the plan, so when the siren rang out, it was a sprint. It is no exaggeration when I state that Zack, Timur and I ran, we sprinted from spot to spot, lights (aka lightning rods) in hand to pull it off. And pull it off we did, the last light safely under the cover of the garage as the storm completely let loose with all its fury. I think I channeled my inner Lt. Dan from Forrest Gump in the shrimp boat hurricane scene, and in the end as we stood in the garage, drenched, it began with shaking heads and grins, rising to a chuckle and finally all out laughter at what we had accomplished.

The feeling going into the final location was that it might be the least dramatic or powerful of the group. As it turned out I believe it was one of the most satisfying and rewarding. The weather presented no challenges, the only real issue that surfaced was the length of nap time for one, most important member of our talent. Throughout the entire project there was a terrific sense of teamwork and family that I credit Larry Spada and his entire family for fostering, as throughout the days of shooting we shared meals, laughter, amazing creative synergy and a few challenging moments. This final location seemed to encapsulate this feeling, an inviting corner residence in a neighborhood that felt like a neighborhood should. As the sun set and the landscape lighting and our additional lighting illuminated this quaint corner, people stopped on their evening walks, they came out of their homes and a photo shoot become a neighborhood social gathering. A wonderful opportunity.

I was raised in Oceanside, California at the height of the 80‘s Cold War nuclear fears. To the north lay Camp Pendleton and to the south, numerous military installations; Miramar, North Island, and the Naval Training Center to name a few. I recall the aircraft hangars along the west side of I-5 as we traveled to downtown San Diego. I listened in awe of the stories of small town Oceanside during WWII, the lookout towers along the oceans edge, constantly scanning the horizon for signs of Japanese submarines. Like so many others, my grandfathers were both involved in WWII, one served in the Pacific, one worked to build the initial structures that make up Camp Pendleton today. And as most from the Greatest Generation, they never spoke of their experiences, only short subtle recollections as I grew older, but never anything that would truly communicate the horrors of war they must have experienced. Country served. Sacrifices made. Stories untold.

These weren’t the only sacrifices made or stories untold. I’ve always remembered my first grade teacher, Ms. Nagata, for the simple fact that she let me explore learning with the zest of a curious, excitable, six year old. I loved math, I loved numbers and I thoroughly enjoyed the work books filled with problems awaiting answers. She allowed and encouraged me to work through the book at a pace that fed my hunger, all the while checking to make sure I was doing the work correctly and understanding the necessary concepts. Thirty years after leaving Ms. Nagata’s classroom I experienced an admiration for her as a person far beyond any math lessons. You see, Ms. Nagata’s family is Japanese and faced imprisoned in the internment camps of WWII like thousands others of Japanese decent. For decades I lacked the knowledge to the depth of the warm welcoming smile I recalled each morning of first grade.

A little piece of history I didn’t learn from a history textbook at any grade level, rather I was first introduced to this history by the photographs of Ansel Adams. Ansel Adam’s image, Mount Williamson, Sierra Nevada, from Manzanar, CA, 1944; the large granite boulders backlight by the setting sun and towering Sierra Nevada range in the distance was my first introduction to the internment camps. His images focused on the Manzanar Camp, one of 10 throughout the Western United States. There were other images as well and a published collection of photographs entitled Born Free and Equal,  Ansel’s statement on the terrible injustice he saw occurring. I suppose at age 16 I still didn’t grasp the depth of this historical event or period in our nations history. Though Manzanar became a place I hoped to visit one day, in my mind it was still about retracing the steps of an admired photographer; not a first grade teacher or complete group of people identified and imprisoned only by their heritage.

The stories of the Greatest Generation and the movies depicting the horrors and heroism of WWII have become quite prevalent over the past decade. They are stories of tremendous sacrifice and service to our country, deserving to be told so that future generations will be reminded of what others who walked before them sacrificed for them today. I believe, there is a story yet to be told in its entirety, that of the Japanese internment camps. Possibly it is due to the lack of attention those who suffered through it have raised, as many felt it was part of their duty to country. Even those that were born in the United States and held complete citizenship made the sacrifice to willingly board the buses and trains that carried them from their homes and business to remote areas throughout the West. Possibly the remoteness of these camps have kept them hidden from the mass public. Possibly the fact that once the prisoners were freed, the camps were quickly cleared of any signs of the saddening history, the guilt of our own shame.

I visited Manzanar in the Spring of 2010, as my family enjoyed Spring Break exploring Death Valley and the Eastern Sierras. I had read more about this historical site and thought I had a greater understanding, but as often occurs in life, real life experience brings about a change within our soul. One building remains on the 500 acre site that housed 10,000 men, women and children from 1942 – 1945, of which two-thirds were born in this country. The gymnasium where teenagers once enjoyed dances and socials as an attempt to forget the binds that held them. Today this gymnasium serves as the museum for Manzanar National Park. The grounds still hold relics of internment, one remaining guard tower, monuments that were created by its temporary inhabitants and the bones of once beautifully designed Japanese gardens. You could sense the souls still hovering in the crisp afternoon light cascading over the towering Sierra peaks. The voices that told the stories of life at Manzanar brought chills throughout my entire body. I felt warm tears roll down my own cheeks as the now aged American told of his life in Manzanar, his memories as a child, “It was like summer camp, all the time, so many children.” But his tears flowed as he spoke of his father, an American citizen, a man that owned a business, a home and loved his country, that had all of it stripped from him because of his ancestry.

The photographs included in this post are from the Manzanar site. The afternoon at Manzanar became more about the emotions and experiences than the photographs. The images serve as reminders for me, they hold greater meaning to me personally because of what they represent. A soul changing day, experienced with my wife and children, all our lives changed. An untold story heard by the four of us and digested deep within our souls.

Yes, I realize, sadly, this is not a first in the history of mankind, unfortunately its an all to common occurrence in the history pages of our planet. Is love or fear the almighty of feelings? Both have the power to spread like wildfire when the winds are stoked and can be used as rationalizations for our actions. In the end, we all must look within to answers these challenges, which drives our heart and soul, love or fear?

In closing, my mind drifts to the words of Bono, the lead singer for U2, just another artist, like Ansel Adams, who continues to bring social injustices and concerns for mankind to the publics view. In a concert in Italy in 2005 shortly after the terrorist bombings in London, Bono introduces the the song Miss Sarajevo, a song dedicated to the horrific ethnic cleansing that occurred following the fall of the Soviet Union. To quote my favorite Irish lad in his intro, “We would like to turn our song into a prayer, the prayer is; we don’t become a monster in order to defeat the monster”. Let us all keep an eye on the past so that our future is free of monsters.

I recall in English class the professor sharing, “if your stuck on the intro, move on and come back to it once you’ve completed all of your thoughts”. The daunting task of the first blog post brings with it equal pressure and desire to use just the right words to entice the reader to return for each subsequent posting. But as a photographer, I generally speak through images; composition, light, color, texture, shape, props are the words. The language of writing through images is my passion and my goal in this blog is to share the journey of this passion. With any journey of meaning, there are struggles to balance the successes; tears so that laughter is more heart felt and days you wonder if Wal Mart is hiring that make that next exciting image created burn more brightly in your soul.

So, I invite you to follow along, the journey of an architectural photographer, where weekly you will be entertained with fresh new images of architecture, interior design, landscape architecture, fine art and travels throughout the globe.