After several false starts, I’ve finally managed to put together a short trailer for the video project I’ve been working on since October. The project is stalled right now due to circumstances beyond my control, but I hope to get it back up and running soon and have the DVD ready to ship by the end of April.
Until then, I hope you enjoy the trailer I put together today.
You can find a higher resolution version of this short video on the Flying M Productions Web site’s new Trailers page. You’ll need a fast Internet connection to smoothly access the 29 MB file. The file is in QuickTime format and if you have QuickTime Pro installed, you should be able to save it to disk. Feel free to share it with your friends.
Your comments are always appreciated. Go easy on me, though. This is my first foray into the world of Final Cut Express.
Because everyone — even me — has some artistic ability.
One of the things that’s challenging me lately is the collection of blank walls at our Phoenix apartment (code-named “Rear Window”). It’s a challenge because I’m determined to decorate them with artwork — which I’ve never been very good at doing.
Why We Don’t Hang Art
I should explain. Our first house, in New Jersey, was made of reinforced poured concrete. Built in 1926, it was one of several in town that was formed with reinforcement mesh, concrete forms, and poured concrete. The walls, floors, and ceilings were all poured concrete. To say our house was solid is an understatement. It will survive earthquakes, floods, and nuclear explosions.
One of the problems of having a house like that is hanging pictures. A masonry nail (at the very least) was required to hang anything on the wall — whether it was a spice rack, framed poster, or paper calendar. As a result, we always thought twice or three times or more before hanging anything. We didn’t want to put unnecessary holes in the walls — holes we might later regret putting there.
So we hung very few items on the walls.
We lived there eleven years. The hesitancy of hanging anything on the walls became part of our mentality. To this day, after twelve years in our current home, we’re still hesitant to hang anything on the walls.
But there’s no excuse not to hang art on these plain, pale colored walls in Phoenix. So we’re going to do it.
My Art
I’ve been an amateur photographer since my college days, although I stopped taking photos for a bunch of years and only got involved again about three years ago. Like so many people, I’ve discovered that digital photography makes photography more affordable, more convenient, and more fun. I make a conscious effort these days to go to interesting places and take interesting photos. And since it costs the same to shoot one photo as it does to shoot 20, I experiment a lot. And although I’ll never quit my “day job” (whatever that is) to become a professional photographer, I’ve collected enough good shots to feel proud of my efforts and want to show them off.
So I’ve decided to draw upon my portfolio of photos to decorate the walls at Rear Window. Why buy someone else’s photos when I can show off some of my own?
(My apologies to the professional photographers out there trying to sell your work. There is a market for it. That market just isn’t with me.)
I found some very basic frames that included bevel cut mats at Ikea. (Although Aaron Brothers is having their big 1¢ sale right now, getting a large mat cut would cost me about $95 and I’m not interested in spending more on a mat than the frame and enlarged photo combined.) The frame comes several colors, although I’ve chosen black. It’s also available in a wide variety of sizes, some of which have mat cutouts for multiple photos. So I have a lot of flexibility here to hang all kinds of photos in a number of sizes.
To get things started, I ordered enlargements of two of my favorite photos made last year:
North to the Future was taken in Alaska in March 2008 at Girdwood Airport, a small dirt strip (snowcovered that day) about 40 miles south of Anchorage. I’d been flying the day before as a passenger on three incredible helicopter flights but did not have my camera aboard. (Don’t ask.) The next day, I had my camera handy and snapped this photo on my way into Alpine Air’s office at the airport. The clouds were caught up in the snow-covered mountains all around the airport, the sky was an amazing blue beyond it, and the bright red and yellow of the airplane really called out to me. The title of this photo comes from Alaska’s state motto. The photo was entered into a photo contest but did not win.
Lake Powell from Romana Mesa was shot in August 2008. I’d made the 2-hour drive from Page, AZ around the northwest end of the lake to the top of Romana Mesa in Mike’s pickup truck. Suffering with a bad back and concerned that I wouldn’t get back to Page before it got dark, I didn’t stay long or spend much time exploring. But the late afternoon light was great and there were just enough clouds in the sky to make it interesting. I took about 80 shots on that little excursion and this is one of my favorites.
I ordered 20 x 30 enlargements of each of these. They should be arriving by mail any day now. Later today, I’ll head down to Ikea to pick up the frames. This weekend, I’ll put them all together.
I’ll hang them at Rear Window the next time I’m in Phoenix. The airplane photo will be perfect centered over our new red sofa. The Lake Powell photo will go over the fireplace — until I can find the giant clock with Arabic numerals (not Roman numerals!) that I really want there. Then I’ll likely shift it to one of the walls in the dining room.
If I like the way they look, I’ll choose more photos and have them printed in other sizes. I’ll buy other frames. Little by little, I’ll cover the walls with souvenirs of our travels.
I’m really looking forward to this. It’ll be great to have these pictures reside somewhere other than on my hard drive.
Got photos you’re proud of? Don’t keep them cooped up on your computer’s hard disk. Make a place for them in your home. I guarantee you’ll be glad you did.
Yesterday, after finishing Chapter 7 of the book I’m working on, I took the afternoon off. I really needed a break and yesterday seemed like a good time to take it.
I drove out to Romana Mesa. These days, as some of you know, I’m living in Page, AZ, where American Aviation is booking photo flights and day trips for my helicopter. I only want 5 to 10 hours of flight time a week, and that’s just what they’re giving me. It gives me plenty of time to work on my book and, when I need a break, I can take it.
Romana Mesa is on the north side of Lake Powell, across the lake from Tower Butte. It’s a high mesa, about 1,000 feet of the surface of the lake. The tour planes flight right over it and use it as a reporting point. On a recent helicopter flight, I saw a truck out there. I figured if someone else got a truck out there, I could, too.
So I did some research and, with the help of Google Maps, discovered which back roads would get me there. I had no idea of the condition of the roads, but I had Mike’s 4WD Chevy pickup which I figured would be able to handle most conditions. I used Garmin’s MapSource software to load area topo maps into my Garmin GPSMap60c — I’d had Washington maps in there — and packed up some food and clothes (in case I got stuck), my camera and tripod, and a cooler full of ice and drinks. At 3 PM, I headed out.
This segment of the Lake Powell Map shows my route. The purple line traces my route in and out.
I drove out on highway 89 to Big Water and turned right onto the only road that ventured north east along the north side of the lake. The road soon turned to dirt. I drove through Wahweap Creek, which wasn’t much more than a puddle. Further on, I was surprised to find a sign that pointed me toward Utah Route 12, which I knew ran east/west far north of the lake. Evidently, there was back road access to it.
The road wasn’t in bad shape, but it obviously hadn’t been graded since the last rainstorm. The mud had been deeply grooved by trucks and other vehicles that had been out there when it was still wet. That mud was now dry and rock hard. The going was easy enough, but it jarred my bad back in more than a few places. I wished I had my Jeep, which offers a softer ride on roads like that.
There were signs at each intersection. I followed the one to the Grand Bench, then turned right on route 264. By this time, I’d climbed to mesa-top level. The road struck out over flat terrain studded with small bushes and grass. Very easy going, despite the fact that the road had narrowed down to a single-lane cut through the sand and rock.
About four miles down the road, I got to my first viewpoint. I was rather surprised to find a white Jeep Cherokee (or some other SUV; I really wasn’t paying attention) out there. I chatted with the woman while her husband walked to the edge of the cliff to snap photos. They were from Boston. I got the impression that she was nervous about being so far away from roads and people. She stuck with her vehicle, then followed me as I went to the cliff edge to take some photos. I gave her some ideas for photographing Lower Antelope Canyon and Horseshoe Bend. They moved on down the road while I took a break for some cold water.
The road got weird. It was all rock in one place with deep cracks and fissures. The road was invisible — no tire tracks in sight. But beyond that area I could see the road continuing on toward the end of the mesa. The people from Boston gave up and turned around. I kept going. I found a path over the rocks and joined up with the road again. A while later, I had to repeat the same process in another spot. The road forked off in a few places, but I stuck with the main road. It ended a few minutes later, less than a mile from where the Bostonians had turned around. I parked and got out.
I was on the edge of a cliff, looking down at Gunsight Butte. There were houseboats down below me and a few powerboats cutting wake into the otherwise calm water. I walked around a bit and took pictures. Then I settled down to wait for the light to change.
It had taken me close to two hours to get out to the edge of the mesa — a distance of about 40 road miles and less than 10 air miles. I wanted to take photos in the late afternoon light. There was a storm out to the west and the sun would soon be sinking behind it. There was another storm to the east, which appeared to be moving toward me. I couldn’t stay until sunset because, if I did, I’d be driving at least 25 miles of unimproved, unmarked dirt road in the dark. My night vision is pretty crappy and I knew that would not be a good idea. So I decided to wait no longer than until 6 PM.
While I waited, I took photos and drank cold beverages and ate cherries. I also took this video:
I left the area at 6:10 PM. It took 30 minutes just to drive the 5 miles to the turnoff for the mesa. The sun set while I was about 2/3 back. My headlights came on when I reached pavement. It was about 7:40 PM when I rolled back into the campground.
Would I do it again? Definitely. Would I recommend it to others? Yes. But on a cooler day. (It was 95°F out there.) Bring plenty of water. An overnight camping trip out there would be incredible, too.
I found some very basic frames that included bevel cut mats at Ikea. (Although Aaron Brothers is having their big 1¢ sale right now, getting a large mat cut would cost me about $95 and I’m not interested in spending more on a mat than the frame and enlarged photo combined.) The frame comes several colors, although I’ve chosen black. It’s also available in a wide variety of sizes, some of which have mat cutouts for multiple photos. So I have a lot of flexibility here to hang all kinds of photos in a number of sizes.
I was on the edge of a cliff, looking down at Gunsight Butte. There were houseboats down below me and a few powerboats cutting wake into the otherwise calm water. I walked around a bit and took pictures. Then I settled down to wait for the light to change.