We are finally having a touch of winter in Pennsylvania. There is not much snow to speak of, but the temperature and wind chill are certainly winterlike.
So, after 90 minutes of kick-butt cardio and some heavy lifting at the gym, some house cleaning and a little walk with the dogs, I hunkered down to go through old photographs. I do a sorting, of sorts, every so often, to determine what will stay in my hard drives and what gets moved to the never to be seen again files.
I found some old shots that I really love and have done nothing with, so far. I thought I would share some wintery scenes with you. The black and white photographs were made six years ago in the Shenandoah Heights area of the hard coal region, where I was born and raised.
Woodland Winter Walk
When I found them, I decided my Holga and I were going to be re-acquainted for some photo fun. The Holga is a cheap, plastic camera with an equally cheap plastic lens. Cheap, plastic, hmm… So, how can you make art with something like THAT? Oh, with your eyes, of course. It’s about “seeing.”
Beyond this, though, one who works with a Holga control has little control over the final outcome. The camera leaks light, vignettes, falls open. Whatever! I’ve made some of my most salable and award-winning prints with this a Holga. And, digital geek that I am, I still love using it.
Bedazzle
I invested in a Diana (a Holga by another name, really) lens for my digital camera. It works okay, but a Holga it is not. I’d rather spend the pennies for some black-and-white 120 film and borrow Jay’s electrical tape (to hold my Holga closed and prevent some light leaks) than put the newfangled Diana lens on my digital Canon.
Bedazzle is a photograph also made in my film days. I remember the day I made it. I was in Shenandoah Heights, slipping, siding and laughing my way through a morning of fun with the pups and my cameras.
This final scene was made two years ago this weekend. You remember THAT winter, right? We had two blizzards in two weeks. Besides having great times outdoors with Mother Nature and my cameras, what I remember most about that winter is that I ate a lot of whole wheat pancakes with zero guilt. I figured all the snow-shoeing and shoveling would allow me to splurge on those additional calories. Because, come on, a cold morning, you just don’t eat one pancake. You eat a plateful with a quarter pound of butter and half a gallon of real Pennsylvania maple syrup or Pennsylvania honey – or both.
Stay warm. Me? I think I’m praying for another blizzard.
It's Snowing by Christine Goldbeck
