I paid four bucks for the CVS photo print and four bucks for the Target photo frame which included the Target plastic bag. I didn’t know what I was doing and wasn’t going to waste a lot of time and money trying to figure out how to professionally enter a Photo Contest.
About 10 days earlier, I had entered two of my sunrise photos into the annual Greenbelt Labor Day Festival Photo Contest. The photos submitted were going to be judged digitally which was a relief because I knew nothing about adjusting, enlarging, hue, saturation, luminance, intensity, whatever. I had taken the photos using my iPhone 7. Like my no-frills, Jockey-for-Her underwear, that iPhone 7 camera was there to do a job, period. No fuss. No muss.
I had been told by many friends and photographers that my sunrise photos were really good. Did I believe it? Sometimes, yes, and sometimes, no. So, what the hey, why not enter a couple into a community-wide contest? They were digital files and only the judges would see them.
The day before the start of the Festival, Keith, the Photo Show organizer, sent out an email pleading that entrants bring framed prints to the community center gymnasium for all to see during the Festival. I wasn’t going to do it, but Adrienne insisted. To my dismay, when I tried to enlarge the photos, I learned that I had not shot them in High Definition — who knew that an iPhone had that option? The photos were blurry and out of focus. So, I had an out. But I also had Adrienne who insisted that I print them anyway. I went to CVS and then to Target and ended up with this 8 X 10 amateurish presentation:
But that wasn’t all. Entrants were asked to drop off their prints to members of the committee waiting in the gymnasium. It was hotter than hell, I had to walk up about two dozen steps using a cane because of chronic pain in my right hip, and when I walked through the gymnasium doors, a woman asked, “Are you okay, honey?” I stared at her blankly and hobbled to my place in line at the drop-off table.
In front of me was a gentleman who based on his 35mm camera bag and leather portfolio, was certainly a professional photographer. From his leather portfolio, he proudly pulled out a beautifully framed photo of kayaks at sunrise and held it up for all to see. I heard many “Oohs” and “Ahhs” as the gentleman explained the shutter speed (huh?) and aperture (huh? huh?) and ISO that captured the moment and . . . oh, please, let me slink outta here right now before I completely humiliate myself.
I gamely stepped up to the drop-off table and tentatively pulled out my framed entries from my plastic Target bag. I leaned in and whispered to Keith: “I think I did this wrong. This was as large as I could get these photos without losing definition. I only have an iPhone 7.” I pulled out the cellphone and showed him the cracked screen. “No worries,” said Keith. “This is fine. You did a very good job with what you had.”
As I hobbled out of the gymnasium, the women who initially greeted me handed me a long-stem rose from a vase of long-stemmed roses on the drop-off table. She had not presented a rose to any other entrant. “You take good care of yourself, honey,” she said in a funereal tone.
Fifteen minutes later, I was relieved to walk through my front door. I was weepy, but Adrienne told me that she was proud of me — “You put yourself out there. The photos you submitted are very good, and I think deep down you know that.”
This past Saturday, the Photo Show opened. When Adrienne and I walked through the gymnasium doors, I immediately spotted my photo presentation from a distance. I also spotted what looked like a prize ribbon. “Adrienne!” I said, “I think I got FOURTH PLACE!”
As we walked toward my photos, I saw that the ribbon was blue. I had won FIRST PLACE . . . and hanging to the right of my winning photo was the kayaks-at-sunrise photo. No ribbons.
Many lessons can be gleaned from this story. One, I need to believe that I am an artist at heart — even if I don’t win prizes because, Two, the kayaks-at-sunrise photo is very beautiful and these contests can be very subjective. Three, Adrienne and many other friends have been championing my creativity for decades. I don’t need a ribbon to prove that I am gifted creatively, though winning one certainly made my heart soar.
Adrienne and I celebrated my win with a bottle of Prosecco poured into the non-traditional bubbly glasses that my dearly departed and deeply creative friend, Jan, had given to me for my 65th birthday. She would have been proud. The title of my winning photo is, “Above and Beyond the Fog.”
Jan, this one’s for you.
The last time I published a post was on April 21. I’ve been working on a project that I simply refer to as “Harvey” which entailed completing the mining of 52+ years of personal journals, a humbling and harrowing endeavor.
But I have continued to attend my sunrise church and between April 21 and this week have taken an additional 500+ photos. Because of chronic right hip pain, I’ve been unable to walk to my sunrise spot, so I drive. I am scheduled for total hip replacement surgery on October 3 which means I’ll be unable to drive for about 5-6 weeks. I’ll miss the fall sunrises, perhaps the most glorious ones of all. But before you know it, I’ll be back in my fields, silently witnessing what I’m convinced is a sun rising just for me.
Your creative heart/eye overcomes any camera deficiencies for sure. Bravo for you. You have every right to be proud and to take inside this blue ribbon to wipe away any doubts from being aware that you are a creative genius. Thanks for the post.
You are welcome, Charlotte. In 1995, you gifted me with the book, The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron which includes dozens of exercises to spark one’s creativity. I put all of the answers into my journal of that year and came across them this past July. Twenty-seven years later, the flame lingers. Thank you.
Ironically, today’s Washington Post includes a special Travel insert featuring the winners of this year’s Photo Contest. Entrants apparently had to provide many details about why and how they captured their images. Most photos included lines such as these, “He used a Nikon Z7 II camera with a Nikon NIKKOR Z 14-24 mm lens”; or “She used an Olympus OM-J film camera with a 40-150 F2.8 lens and shot at 52 mm, a fast setting”; or “He stood on the beach for a good hour waiting for the clouds to part and snapped many photos with his Nikon D7500, which was mounted on a tripod and fitted with a Tampon 18-400 mm lens; he took panoramic shots with a 20-second exposure over the course of about two hours.”
Geez Louise. I guess if one needs to know the specifics of writing a good sentence, one needs to know the specifics of taking a good photo.
I was relieved to read this about one winning photo: “He snapped the photo with his iPhone 12 from across the street.” You go, bro.
It was a well-deserved award, Sharon. Now that you know how to turn on the HDR, please use it. I look forward to enlarging and printing your future photos.
These photo and art shows are highly anticipated, and dare I say it, competitive among the participants. The town is very supportive of the arts, and these shows encourage all ages to share their talents.
One woman complained that she did not win a ribbon, although only 3 photos were submitted in her category. “I don’t NEED to win a ribbon, but if only 3 photos were entered I should win something!” She must have complained enough because she was later awarded one.
And kudos to Keith. Year after year he volunteers to organize this event. It is no easy task.
Thanks, Adrienne. [By the way, the woman you referenced took third place out of the three photos submitted in her category.]
Thanks, too, for showing me the HDR thingy on my iPhone 7. I noticed many other settings under “Edit.” So much to learn. Most of all, Adrienne, thank you for patiently cheering me on and providing feedback on my photos. You have a very good eye and have taught me a lot about how to “see” a photo. For example, you’ve pointed out things that have worked in my photos that I had not noticed when I took them.
Yes, this Photo Show is a labor of love for Keith, who always has something encouraging to say about every entry.
So proud of you, my friend.
And way to go, Jan, for inspiring creativity wherever she could.
Thanks much, Kelly. And much gratitude for recognizing the role Jan played in sparking my creativity. Between Jan, Adrienne, and many other beloveds, I’m ON FIRE!
Sharon, you are indeed an artist. I am humbled by your skill and your inspiration, both of which help you attain wonderful photos.
“and your dedication, all of” instead of “both of”
David — your comment posted twice and you got it right the first time, so I deleted the second time it appeared. I am not deleting your corrections because, hey, you cared enough to proofread! Love you.
So happy for this affirmation of your artistic, soul-eye! Now time for you to fully absorb this affirmation and live your artistic life, your gifted sight, in High Definition. You help the rest of us to see more deeply. Carry on!
Let’s hear it for HD! Thank you, Carol. I know that you pray every single day for my creative efforts. xoxo
What a nice story to go along with your beautiful photos. I hope someday you’ll consider putting your photos in a book along with some of your favorite poetry. I have a place on my coffee table all ready for it! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
Thanks much, Merrie Lee. Our sister, Dawna, has been encouraging me for years to pull together a book. (And — I’m whispering now — so has my psychiatrist!) I’m working on it. Promise.
Not precision. Not perfection. Humanity. You won because the soul of the photographer rests so easily in your photographs.
No doubt the most meaningful feedback ever. Thank you.