I’m so grateful to have had the opportunity to be introduced to John Anderson’s body of work earlier this year.  Following our conversation in January (on the Folio Podcast), I’ve been inspired to dig deeper into John’s work, and have really enjoyed following along on his creative journey.  John was recently here in California, and created this remarkable image.

Thank you John for taking us Inside the Image.

John Anderson: “Without thinking about it, I took my camera off the tripod and opened up the aperture enough to stop motion at around a 350th of second. Then I just stood there a moment wondering why I had done that.  That’s when I saw it.  A set of enormous waves swiftly closing in on me – they were easily twice the size of any other waves I had seen that day – or any day for that matter.

“I barely had time to think…uh…this could be bad…when the first one hit.  The sound was incredible and the splash wave shot straight up in air mingling with the clouds in a solemn display of lethal horror.  I stated photographing; clicking my sophisticated legend of a camera like a point and shoot. Someone was laughing maniacally – turns out it was me – when the terrifying volume of water dropped  harmlessly into the chasm at my feet – leaving the shelf of rock I was standing on completely dry.

“I didn’t have time to marvel at being alive – more big waves were pounding into the air and I kept shooting them.  I took a lot of photographs in short period of time but it was that first wave that captured my emotions.  If chance favors the prepared mind, it absolutely adores the stupidly lucky.”

• Learn more about John and support his journey
• View John’s body of work
• John on the Folio Podcast

Image Copyright: John Anderson

These fall from trees all around our neighborhood.  Not sure of their official description, but my kids call them “chocolate trees.”

Let me know if you know the true botanical origin.  In the meantime, this image is being added to a slowly-growing body of work — Found Natural Objects.

Thanks for looking.

One of my favorite things about producing the Folio Podcast is hearing directly from photographers about the behind-the-scenes stories and inspirations related to their work.  Many times a favorite image will take on a whole new level of value and meaning to me once I know more from the artist about how and why it was created.

I’ve decided to reach out to photographers I admire and showcase their work here on the blog, along with the story about the making of the image in the photographer’s own words.

Kicking off the series is an image created by Sydney-based photographer Steve Coleman.  I’m inspired by Steve on many levels — including his thoughtful and passionate approach to photography, and his appreciation of the natural world.  In addition, Steve generously shares his branding and design expertise with the creative community through his column on the Livebooks blog, and via his Facebook page.

Thank you Steve for agreeing to participate, and for sharing with us the story behind the making of this wonderful image.

Steve Coleman: “I don’t think I have a favourite image.  My liking for my photographs seems to change with my mood. Often how I feel about a picture has a lot to do with the circumstances around which I shot the image. This picture of the red sky over the Sydney’s Opera House almost did not happen, and in the process taught me an important lesson about landscape photography. For this reason I’m particularly proud of this photograph.

“I had been waiting almost an hour and a half before I took this shot. It was a wet, dark, grey, gloomy, depressing morning. No interesting light. No drama in the sky.  A nothing kind of morning. I had just packed up all my camera gear and was about to leave.  Suddenly the sun broke through a small break in the clouds. The sky lit up for no more than 45 seconds. It took me about 30 seconds to open the tripod, mount my Mamiya 7 camera, guess at the exposure and dial it in. I hand held a split ND filter to take the edge off the light. I had time for  two exposures and then the light was gone. Back to gloom.  This image taught me to be patient, watch and be prepared. I am thankful for this experience.”

Shot on  6 x 7  Velvia 50 Film / Mamiya 7II / 43MM

Image copyright: Steve Coleman

Revisiting some older work — this image being 1 of 12 in a new series, “Faded Daydreams.”

PartnerCon 2009 has had a profound affect on me.  There are so many stories to be told, and so many images to be shared.  The city of New Orleans and all of the photographers that came together have a firm grasp on my heart.  Thank you to ALL of you for what you do, and for your treasured friendships and inspiration!

Much more to come as I gather my thoughts.  In the meantime, a few images.

I’ve been getting great submissions for the Folio Hunt blog recently, and have been enjoying sorting through the images and determining which to showcase.  I’m really thrilled to have just posted the work of photographer Smith Eliot.

You can see her full bio on her website, and on Folio Hunt, but this first paragraph may be just enough to entice you to want to learn more…

“I was born on a commune in Topanga California.  My parents were amongst the first hippies and lived in a school bus.  What a wonderful bus it was!  On one side it had a mural of Leonard Peltier wearing a tiger-striped speedo, holding chrysanthemum in his right hand and a rifle in his left hand.  The other side was completely black. In the winter we faced the black side towards the sun to keep warm…”

These images are from a body of work that Smith has titled, “The Secrets We Keep.”

Images Copyright: Smith Eliot