Concerning the Short Life of a Croissant

One of the mantras of sketching is to draw everything.  The underlying wisdom of this is that all subjects, no matter how common, are worthy of attention.  Sketching moves a person from looking to seeing.   In nineteen months of nearly daily engagement, my skills have grown and my interest in pushing the camera shutter has become more thoughtful. Drawing is  also a sort of Zen disengagement with the daily stresses.

Today, my "draw anything" was a buttery croissant. Here's what I created as a first study of the form and color.  Beyond the lines, there is another challenge, namely creating appropriate colors.  Honestly, finding appropriate hues and tones is a bigger challenge than the form.

I'm happy with the sketch. My objective is to create a two-page image that is stepping from the complete pastry to after the  plate is empty on the theme of:

The Short Life of  a Very Buttery Croissant

So,  the next step is to plan the set of sketches.  I now get to bite into the pastries and create a series of images to use for sketching.  Follow along with commentary on my choices for garnishes.

 Step One:

Just some soft butter.  Very nice depending on the quality of your butter.  Next, I upgraded to something that is special to me,  Apricot Preserves.

Reminds me of my daily breakfast at the Hotel Londres in Fountainebleau, France.   Each morning, a little delivery truck delivered croissants from a bakery that  had been chosen one year as the best in France.  Add some cheeses, and it was a great memory. (Each morning, I looked out my window at the Chateau in morning light.)

Next was Dalmatia Fig Spread.

Lovely.  The pastry is getting small.  One last spread, a French rhubarb spread.   Made this myself.  Recipe is:  4 cups diced rhubarb, 1/2 cup sugar, pinch of salt and 1 teaspoon vanilla.  Cook 'til soft, cool and puree in blender.  

The taste is very mild.  Also great on vanilla  ice cream.

Yes, croissants have a short life around me. 

This was one of the most satisfying sketching projects in recent memory.  I'd love to hear about any similar memories that you can share.

Have a good week.

Paul

A Shindagin Love Note

 What's a Shindagin?  Actually, it is a New York State Forest in the Finger Lakes.  I love it!

At 7:30 am today, it was alive with migrating birds, and the steep hillsides were rich with spring wildflowers.  Above is a gang of Trillium grandiflorum. Mixed with the glorious white trillium were also  purple Trillium erectum like these.

 

Let's have another look at a single purple example.  The deep veins on the petals appear to me to be slightly deeper in tone.

As I explored a rough trail that zig-zagged up the steep slope, my eyes came upon a trillium missing either the white or the deep purple of either trillium.  I had come upon a special "straw-colored" trillium.  The veins in the petals suggest to me it is a variant of T. erectum.  Surely, a beautiful surprise.

 

There were a few other surprises. Today is April 28, and Sharp-lobed Hepatica is generally past bloom.  Furthermore, Hepatica typically blooms before sending up this year's leaves.  Usually, it's flowers reside in a bed of withered leaves from the year before. These plants were different.

With both a flower and fresh leavcs, I will treasure this photo.

Shindagin is a very steep and sheltered valley. Perhaps the location is a factor in the late blooming?  Will have to see if this repeats next year.

The climb up the steep hill yielded a final surprise,  Trout Lily!

Photography is chancy for these because the flowers only open on bright sunny days and that usually coincides with wind.  Usually impossible to stop the flower stalk's waving in the slight breeze.  Today was different.  It was briefly calm in the morning.  Such luck.

 

All considered, it was worth rising at 5:10 am to meet the rising sun at 6:09 as I pulled out of the garage.

Feeling so fortunate to live in the Finger Lakes today.

Hope you find some joy in the photo adventure.

 Paul

The neighbors I find in my 'hood.

We've always encouraged the neighbor children to cut through our yard when they visit one another. Love to see them running home when dinner is ready.  Beyond them, I never know what else I will  find when I go outside.  It can be a Robin scavenging for dried berries in the trees.

Sometimes, it's Chuck over by the grape arbor doing a tour of our small sculpture display.

But this week, it has been the Kits hanging out by the neighbor's garden shed.  Been as many as seven, but this morning about 8:45 am there was only one.  Perky little critter.  Never makes much noise!

It entertained itself stalking leaves blowing in the breeze, or practicing it's pouncing technique.

That's pretty good form.   

Eventually, there was company.

Actually, more like a wrestling opponent.

This is how the kits prepare to survive.  It's not really play.  

Weeks ago, there were seven for the female to nurse, but when they were weaned, she couldn't possibly catch enough to feed everyone.  There has to be conflict for limited food.  As a result, there are..... three.

 

Let them pose for a group photo.  Soon, they will out on their own, and hunting chipmunks, mice and squirrels.  They will also face fast moving automobiles and natural predators.  Right now, they have little fear, so it will be a steep learning curve. 

As much as I enjoy seeing them in the neighborhood, I'd prefer that they disperse away from people and automobiles while they learn to prosper.   

Paul

When does spring arrive?

Good question about when spring really starts.  Looking at my past years photos, the variability of dates is large. Below is a notable memory from February 2011.  Skunk Cabbage arguably is the first native flower.  But its first emergence is not  February, more likely in early March. It is a bit unusual to see it emerging through a crust of snow.  The plant senses increasing daylight and begins a catalytic reaction to melt the ground.  The hood,  Spathe, shelters the pollen-rich Spadix.  The flower smells like carrion so flies are attracted.  The flies gather the pollen, but there is no actual food reward to the fly.

My interest in this plant is in part promoted by my desperation to find something to photograph.  Guess one can suggest that I,too, am fooled just like the fly.  However, I protest.  It is a serious challenge to find just one suitable example with the Spadix visible.  After all, the flies are attracted by smell, and it need not be visible to succeed.  My first trip to photograph in March found many, but none with a visible Spadix.  Finally a good example was found on April 4.

Actually, these were three were all growing in close arrangement with only  two Spadix visible (and, only if I reflected extra sunlight into the spathe.)  The colors were a spectacular purple, warm green and amber yellow.  (I've tried  three times to capture the hues using watercolor with little success.)

One shot was not enough.  Had to get closer.

Looking at my garden, I see many native plants sending up new growth including bloodroot, trillium, lung wort and wild leeks. Perhaps the other benefit of pursuing these first blooms is preparing cameras, lenses and achy knees for the spring photo bonanza.  

Paul Schmitt

Some Winter Beauty

In early February, a small group of nature photographers gathered in the Thousand Islands region of New York for winter landscapes under the leadership of Chris Murray.  He is a local resident with broad knowledge of both photography and the available areas to explore. 

Conditions were beautiful with fresh snow on the second day.  The graceful birch tree seen below is decorated with new snow.  A middle ground cradles the birch and a distant sky of ultramarine plus puffy clouds completes the offering.

Images with multiple layers are appealing.  Beginning with a strong subject in the fore is sure to encourage exploration like the following scene.   Had to kneel low in the snow so that the cattails nearly touched the twin evergreens.  The distant trees highlight the pair of main subjects. (It was so cold that the coat of snow on my pants just dusted off cleanly.)

Other times, the subject is not low such as these remnants of the summer leaves.The white snow nicely isolates the beech leaves from an otherwise busy background.  That's a key benefit of fresh snow.  There's just a light amount of bluish gray on the snow. Lovely.

Back on my knees again for this setting of some Milkweed.  They are a winter favorite, and the setting here presented an exciting composition wherein you see a central stalk with two distant ones that guide the eyes to the top of the main stalk. 

Here's another setting that has two supporting elements. The Goldenrod is the main subject.  The massive Oak cradles the weed's stalk, so both sweep in a counter-clockwise flow.  Worked hard on this as there were other stalks that needed a gentle shift to the sides.

Back close to the ground with snow up to my knees.  This simple image of grass stalks benefits from fresh snow.   It is not always necessary to have multiple layers to the composition.

Time to add some wonky images.  This  might be called Waiting for Summer.  Boats are stacked in the Wellesley Island State Park's marina, just waiting.  It was so cold that colors were temporarily unavailable.

Next to the  boat launching ramp, the concrete walls had  weathered to appear as a midnight lightning storm.

Another stop was the "Wall" at DeWolf Point State Park (also on Wellesley Island). The "Wall" is an exposed rock wall from the last glacial event. 

The interplay of the weathered rock surfaces with lichens and mosses create intriguing patterns.  It's a visual playground open to many interpretations. I see two large fishes in the rock face below.

 Should I return next winter, it's sure I will not see the fishes but rather something equally as puzzling.

Time to end with a subject that can be agreed upon.  Sunset on the frozen St. Lawrence River looking towards Kingston, Ontario.  The Thousand Islands Tower is opposite the setting sun to the far right.

 

Many thanks to fellow photographers  Kathy, Kent, Bob and our leader Chris for both their companionship and creative inspiration.

To my blog followers, thanks for your interest and appreciation.

 

Paul Schmitt

Some Say Blind, Others Say Hide

Hairy Woodpecker, female

Our yard is a haven of small birds in winter.  It's likely we are the only neighbors actively offering sunflower seed and suet along with safe cover nearby. My morning coffee goes with checking first arrivals in the blue hour.  It's usually Northern Cardinals plus Dark Eyed Juncos.  Watching the interplay of the different species is entertaining as the "pecking order" creates a lot of mild conflict.

Two weeks ago, photo memories of the winter birds returned along with how it offered entertainment. I hatched a plan. I dislike photos of birds on feeders. Thinking of a natural look,  I began wandering my friends woodlot for suitable props, meaning pieces of decaying trees that could be mounted with a natural background. Hidden feeding spots.  Some nice woodpecker holes would be good to hide fatty morsels that are especially important on really cold days. I created a recipe using Morrell Snow Cap Manteca,  aka Pastry Lard with additions of cornmeal, rolled oats and buckwheat flower. 

The bird seen above right is arriving for her treat.   As a little detail, I did select the decaying beech log because of the black shelf fungi just about the feeding area.  Details are important. Now follows some of the entertaining events my camera captured one morning.

One flashy visitor was this Red-bellied Woodpecker.  When she wants her place at the suet, few other birds will challenge its massive bill.  Generally, they will coax a large chunk free and fly off to consume it. 

The conflicts at the log can be surprising.  Typically, any woodpecker would be dominate to similar size birds likely because of their aggressive beak.  But on an extremely cold morning, this Dark-eyed Junco tried to challenge.  It yielded quickly to a nearly perch to wait.

When the conflict is within the same species, it might be more extended like for these two Juncos.

Sometimes the sizes are similar as with the Red-bellied and Hairy Woodpeckers.

This happened quickly, and I believe the Red-bellied displayed a heavier beak.  All this reminds me that there is no room for manners in matters of survival in the natural world.

There was one interruption when a Gray Squirrel arrived to feast on some lard.
 

There was an easy solution.  The recipe was modified with a half tablespoon dose of cayenne pepper.  Birds don't react but squirrels sure do.  Back to the birds with a delightful little visitor, a Carolina Wren.  It not only visited the suet but also probed the edges of the dead bark.

Ten years ago, it was unlikely to see one.  This winter there is a pair frequently coming to both sunflower seeds and suet.  They also patrol the gap under the bottom course of siding looking for overwintering insect eggs.  

I sort of mislead you about unexpected visitors.  There was a sudden impulsive burst of fleeing birds as a rather large bird claimed the top of the beech. This is certainly the closest that I have ever been to a Cooper's Hawk. Everything became very quiet until it left.

The birds returned in 5 minutes, Chickadees first. Soon, a White-breasted Nuthatch arrived.  They seem to spend nearly all of their foraging time facing downward. The Nuthatch's feet are certainly optimized for how they search for food.

Finally, it was unexpected to fire the shutter 1/4 second before it erupted in flight.  Away she goes!

There is always a bit of serendipity when an image shows the rapid burst into the air.  That imageis an encouragement to schedule another session in the hideout.

Seems there is plenty to enjoy in the coldest month.

Best regards,

Paul Schmitt

 

The Zen of Seeing: the Camera or the Pen?

 New Year's Greetings 

Some of my photo friends have noted a slower pace in my sharing photos.  It's more of an artistic shift in attention than distractions.  I'll explain a shift in my artistic direction that I believe will yield deeper engagement and possibly some inspiration. 

My creative eye is still active.  Fortunately, my advanced iPhone is always there to capture and surprise as I wander.  After fifty years, Corning city still can deliver a visual treat like this unexpected autumn view of iconic Little Joe Tower.

The sun directly behind the tower was unplanned.  The appeal of the scene is driven by the two subjects- architecture and autumn reflections.

So it was on a  neighborhood walk that a scene expressed the hopeless wish that fall would just STOP.

In the last year, I have realized how easy it is make beautiful images with no real engagement on the subject.

In October 2023, I discovered The Zen of Seeing by Frederick Franck. The basic premise is that moving from Looking to Seeing engages your mind intimately with the world.  Absent all the complexity of photography,  pen and paper are all really required.  

My sketch book from yesterday engaged my attention for nearly an hour with the result that for the first time, I really was seeing a deer; seeing where eyes are located between nose and ears example.

My goal is not to create art for display but to really see, and ultimately make stronger photos.  An artist has the choice of what to draw and what to leave out.  Neither the deer or the amaryllis sketch has need for background.

So, it is that I more fully see the form of this common vine - maybe Virginia Creeper- that is behind my shed.

Unlike the camera, the act of drawing this completely disengaged me from the passage of time and the daily stresses of life.   Drawing is often described as meditative. There is no pressure to please anyone but self.

As autumn has gone into winter, I am engaging in some photography that creates subjects for sketching.  Here are a few with comments about how this Zen Seeing considers the subject. First is a female Northern Cardinal.

Notice the subtle colors. Other than the brilliant red-orange beak, the colors are difficult to describe.  There are cool yellows blending into greenish browns, plus blue/red mixes.  I've made two attempts in watercolors.  Humbling.

Ah, but the flashy male is easier.

Maybe the male's winter coloration is still difficult?  The wing and tail aren't easy, and forget about the feather details.  Made one  attempt. Not ready to share a cardinal sketch yet.  

There is some advice to ignore the feather details that are difficult.  Will try.

The coloration of the Tufted Titmouse seen at right is a bit less complex.  Perhaps its coloration has less seasonal change?  Let's see below what was created in a recent sketch.

The ink underlay is a bit  strong.  Still drawing shows clear seeing  of plumage, form and coloration.  No comprehension of the bird's feet was necessary on my part to capture the photo.   

At this juncture, the admonition from a friendly preacher  comes to mind.  It went like this:

A good salesperson learns to recognize when the sale has been made and quit talking.  Same goes for the person delivering the sermon.  Time to close with a few wintry images.

 

Remnants of Summer

If I were to sketch the image below, there would be no detail in any crisp features past the windmill.  There is no benefit to that.

The Farm's Only Reminder

The camera looks, but never sees. 

If this stirs any interest, I am happy to share the resources that guided me.  I found it personally freeing to step past exhibit and only draw for myself.  As I began sketching, that was valuable lesson shared with me.

Best wishes for 2025.   

Paul Schmitt