santa monica photography
“ Taking an image, freezing a moment, reveals how rich reality truly is.”
I decide to walk rather than drive to the art store. About 40 minutes of walking on Lincoln street in Santa Monica. Shops, car repair shops, restaurants. Lots of concrete. I start noticing the murals. More than half of them depict nature.
After seeing the third one, the irony strikes me. We cover nature with concrete. Then we cover concrete with nature. Urban nature, or perhaps a glimpse at the human nature.
Parking lot with flowers
City forests
“When people ask me what equipment I use – I tell them my eyes.”
On the quest to finding the look I strive for in the images, I find myself going in two opposite directions. Either really expensive vintage lens recreated for modern cameras (waiting for one ...), or the simplest possible lens. The plastic one. No autofocus, can't handle low light, the simplest of the simple. A Holga lens.
And funny enough, this a tremendous fun. Liberated from the need to hit the exact focus, with a built in vignette ( did I mention old, crappy lens??) ....and a softness to die for.
Armed with my camera, I go out late afternoon to test run the lens. Its chilly, the wind blows my hair, and I keep shooting the lights and the shadow. And a gorgeous Pudel who happened to be with his owner at Starbucks.
"When people ask me what equipment I use - I tell them my eyes." So true.
Selfie. The wind and me (or a really bad hair day:)
At Starbucks
The holidays. Santa Monica, December 2015
“It’s said that All Hallows’ Eve is one of the nights when the veil between the worlds is thin - and whether you believe in such things or not, those roaming spirits probably believe in you, or at least acknowledge your existence, considering that it used to be their own.”
As someone who loves photographing the night moods, Halloween is a rare treat for me. Having just finished a night photography project, letting imagination wander in the quiet streets of Santa Monica, I have now a chance to witness how "the veil separating the worlds" becomes transparent and this quiet and beautiful neighborhood turns into a modern rendition of the underworld.
I walk around with the camera, taking in the mood and colors, peeking through the veils. Light shining through cobwebs turns into abstract images depicting the land of the ghosts. A world filled with mystery and magic.
It is this veil between the worlds I am looking for whenever I photograph. The spirit and the story hiding beyond what the eye can see. No better time for this than Hallows' Eve. My trick & treats.
Hallows' Eve in Santa Monica
Rest in pieces
The scream
Inspired by the lights, creating my own ghosts
“Very often I try to find something that matches a feeling I have. On the other hand, a lot of times I photograph with nothing specific in mind. I just play it as it comes. If it’s good, fine. I find ‘letting it happen’ relaxing, a playful vacation. Stimulating pictures almost always result.”
Playing with the camera. I do not want to capture the magnificence of the beach. It's the ripples of light, the salty air, the sound of the waves, the continuous movement that I am after.
Hundreds of images of the beach, and I am still looking for the right way to photograph it. Ironically, it is when I am starting to play and let it happen that some of the barriers break down.
Movement and light
Moving, standing still
Wings and waves
“The forest is essential, the trees incidental”
I love trying new things, experimenting with what the camera can do. But every few months, I find myself returning to the initial love - Impressionism. I love how it captures the essence of things. The forest rather than the trees.
New ideas are born. Would I dare to print and hand-paint these? Something to explore now that I start making friends with my printer....
Golden grasses by Amy Kanka Valadarsky
Two women by Amy Kanka Valadarsky
“For otherwise he would have lost faith in his power to fly, and
the moment you doubt whether you can fly, you cease for ever to be able to do it.”
Experimenting today with zone plate photography. No lenses. Ironic when sooo much money went into these fabulous lenses sitting on my shelf. But today, all I took with me to the ebach was the zone plate. Trying to figure out how the world looks via its concentric circles.
....and I love it. Looking at this set of 3 images, it brought back memories of my first photography project, and farther away memories of me as a little girl reading 'Peter Pan in Kensington gardens'. The baby Peter Pan who could fly, since he never doubted that he could. And ceased flying when he started to ask himself whether he will be able to do so without wings.
Looking at the images of the little girl 'flying' bring an unexpected wish. I wish I would not doubt whether I can fly, I wish I would just fly.
3 hours on the beach. Soaked shoes and socks getting dry now in the sun. 3 images capturing one magnificent moment. I am flying !!!!!!!
Flying by Amy Kanka Valadarsky
The girl who doesn't doubt she can fly
“This benefit of seeing...can come only if you pause a while, extricate yourself from the maddening mob of quick impressions ceaselessly battering our lives, and look thoughtfully at a quiet image...the viewer must be willing to pause, to look again, to meditate. - ”
A summer day. The blue skies complement the light color of the sand.
A flurry of activity, as a flock of sea gulls decides to move. Ideal world? For some. Every time I go to the beach, and I do this almost daily, my attention wanders more and more to so many unfortunate people for whom this is their bed for the night. Maybe for the week or the month, who knows.
I wonder how they see it. Do they notice the blue of the water and the sky? The reflections in the wet sand, or are they too busy thinking about the next meal? Careful to preserve their anonymity, I photograph.
What changed the last year? how come year ago I never noticed them and now I can not ignore the homeless?
Does he notice the blue sky?
We are the fortunate ones
“Learning how to be still, to really be still and let life happen - that stillness becomes a radiance.”
There is a very special connection between photography and time. In my case, what this means I start forgetting about time when I am with the camera.
The other day, I arrived at the beach at 7 am (still working on that early wake-up to catch the first light) and the next time I looked at my watch it was 11:15.
Then there is the ability of capturing time. Who knew that half a second can be so long? Who knew that stillness is an aggregate of so much motion?
Sitting still and photographing time. Understanding visually what stillness is all about and how it complements motion.
Morning sun basks everything in an out of this world radiance.
Just sitting still.
Santa Monica - Under the pier
“Photography to me is catching a moment which is passing, and which is true”
There is so much I learn through photography. And most of the time, it is not about new things. It is about things I thought I understood. Until I knew better.
Yesterday it was about the concept of one of kind.
Armed with my camera, decided to go to a stretch of beach that had more birds than people. Last time I was there I counted at least 5 pelicans, but I did not have the right lens with me, so I could not photograph them.
On the way to the beach, I couldn't resist photographing beautiful red leafs on the pavement. One of them was sitting in a rain puddle that turned the concrete sidewalk into a temporary mirror.
The beach was there, beautiful as ever - but no pelicans. Actually there were very little birds. Mostly seagulls huddling together, couldn't realize why.
Then I saw they start moving in my direction. Not alone. They seemed to gravitate around something. That 'something' turned out to be a woman in a white hat throwing pieces of food (bread?) into the air for the seagulls to catch.
On my way home, I realized that whenever I try to recreate an image I took, I never succeed. Even if I go to the same place, with the same or more suited lens - it never works. and it's not about the equipment or the place or even the same shooting angle. Images capture moments. And moments are one of a kind.
I will never be able to make the same photograph of a red leaf in a puddle. The puddles already dried up. Even when will rain again - the leaf will not be there. The light will be different. I might be looking at something else and miss the puddle.
The lady with bread will not feed the seagulls when I happen to be on the beach.
Nothing lasts forever, and moments can not be reproduced. My lesson for today.
Feeding the seagulls on Santa Monica beach
“The camera makes you forget you’re there. It’s not like you are hiding but you forget, you are just looking so much.”
Santa Monica pier early in the morning
After 3 weeks of courtship, the pier and I start to know each other.
I watched the sunset lighting the sea while sitting under it. I know how confident the birds are, perching on the pier benches, watching me as I watch them.
I start understanding the relationship between the waves and the pillars. Trying to look at them from a small bird's point of view.
Really looked at the pillars, saw the inclination angle carefully calculated to bear the weight of the structure. From certain angles, the columns looked like a multi-legged elephant walking into the sea.
I saw the reflections in the wet sand and sparkling water.
I'm yet to feel the fishermen's joy when catching a fish. Understand their patience while waiting.
To see the pier really early in the morning, on a foggy and rainy day.
I need to take a closer look at the sea shell colonies on the foot of each pillar.
The best is yet to come.
From a bird's point of view
Man and nature. A glimpse at the pier feet in the morning sun
Reflections in the wet sand
Who is watching who?
Morning sun reflections - Nature abstract art
“Photography for me is not looking, it’s feeling. If you can’t feel what you’re looking at, then you’re never going to get others to feel anything when they look at your pictures.
”
A white feather
I was just about to return home after shooting surfers and children playing on the beach when I saw it.
A white feather on the sand.
By the time I pointed the camera at it, the sea breeze already shifted it a bit.
I can not explain what drew me to capture it on camera, but for the next hour or so, I chased feathers on the beach, lying fully dressed on the sand shooting them.
The next day, the words 'soul bird' came to my mind. Looked it up on the net and found Michal Snunit's beautiful story about the little bird who lives in our soul, closing and opening the feeling drawers.
And it all clicked together.
My obsession with shooting the little birds looking for food in the receding waves, the instant connection with the feathers blowing in the wind.
A reflection of the soul.
Our most inner part, the one that stays quiet in the middle of the stormy sea. The one constantly looking to feed herself from the experiences our life waves throw at her.
The sensitive one. The one we need to nourish and protect.
This is how 'the soul bird' series was born.
The soul bird
“There are always two people in every picture: the photographer and the viewer.”
Under the Santa Monica Pier
The Santa Monica pier is one of the most well known and photographed places in the city.
The first time I saw it with a tourist's eye. I saw the colors, the restaurants, the too many tourist shops and attractions. I remained unimpressed.
My second trip to Santa Monica was for a few weeks, the beginning of a 3 years relocation period to this new and promising place. And between looking for apartments, furniture, and the rest of daily chores - I started going out with the camera. Walking on the beach towards the pier.
Sitting under it, with the sun on the horizon, looking at the waves crushing in - provided a whole new way of looking at the pier.
Feeling secure yet a bit dwarfed by the boards above and the giant pillars surrounding me, I kept looking at the waves through the lens. A struggle (or duet, I could not decide) of man made engineering and nature's force. The power of men ingenuity and the power of nature. The static and the dynamic.
Enclosed yet open.
Dark yet lighted by the setting sun.
Alone in a crowd of people enjoying the beach and people walking just above my head.
Under the pier - a different point of view.
Sunset as seen from under the pier.