Behind-the-Scenes at Lock Ridge Park

About two weeks ago I was scouring the web for interesting places to shoot some birthday photos. Any opportunity to get out and see somewhere new is always welcome… and I’m especially partial to old, well-worn buildings. When I came across Lock Ridge Park in Albertis, PA, it was pretty much love at first site.

The park wraps around an iron ore blast furnace built in 1868 by the Lock Ridge Iron Company. Furnaces were built throughout the next few years as it changed ownership. When it finally closed in 1921, it was the last operating anthracite iron furnace in the US. Eventually, what remained of the furnace was donated to the Lehigh Valley county to be used as a park and has been open as such since 1976.

Lock Ridge was a fantastic place to explore; it had everything from rivers to walking paths to forest to numerous castle-like remnants of buildings. Around every corner was something new and wild to see. It’s easy to see why it’s a popular destination for many event photographers in the area.

Keep scrolling to see my take on Lock Ridge Park during our location stake-out.

More shots from some east-coast exploring on the way!

Closing the Book by Opening Some Film

I got my Hasselblad 500 c/m as an impromptu anniversary gift on our trip to Portland back in 2016. Blue Moon Camera happened to have just gotten one in and I was so excited to bring it home with me.

It took me a while to actually work up the courage to use it, though. It seemed a lot more complex than the Canon AE-1 I had been using- and not even using for all that long, really. I was sure that I was going to either break it or discover that using such a fine machine was reserved for those who had been in the darkroom for 40 years. I don’t think I actually shot a full roll of film on it for two years before finally reaching for one of twenty or so rolls of Lomography Lady Grey that had begun taking over my shelves. I started that one roll and then let the camera continue to collect dust.

A year later, the time had come to leave Fairbanks. I decided that it was sink or swim now. I had the thing, I needed to learn it. Maybe I was feeling more grown up. I don’t know. Regardless of reasons, I was off for my last walk in Denali National Park with my friend, fellow photographer and travel buddy, Sarah, Hasselblad in tow.

I would’ve lived there if I could.

The walk was a chance to apply a lot of what I learned over the last few years. No light meter in the camera meant that I had to work out my own exposure (though it was very sunny and didn’t really change all that much). I had gone through the roll by the time we were halfway through, so I had to reload the beastie in the shadow of a big rock. I was also looking through ground glass with the image flipped and upside down… which was never a strong suit. It was a bit stressful, but in the end it was such a worthwhile endeavor. It’s a bit bulky to be an everyday camera (yet) but it is certainly one that I bring out more often now.

Back in the days when passing a lot of other people on the trail was no big thing.

I got the roll of Kodak Portra used for these photos when I purchased the camera. It was about three years old when I shot it and it was never stored in the fridge. In fact, it stayed in the camera through my drive down to Anchorage a month later- with two frames left unexposed- and through two flights to New Jersey four months after that. This roll saw almost half a decade of my life go by before it got developed. All things considered, it held up pretty well! If you look at the sky in some of the photos you can see watermarks of “Kodak” and some numbers but, otherwise, no complaints here!

Seeing this roll developed felt like finishing the last lingering chapter of a book long open. It’s not a novel idea that learning something new takes practice and mistakes but I think some of us sneakily convince ourselves to play it safe for too long. I tell my kids emphatically that making mistakes is important for learning, you can’t do great things without them. Mistakes allow us to find our voice, to rehearse what we want to put out there. Mistakes should be a trusted friend. I’m glad that even though it took me years to really take this to heart, I am able to fully embrace it now without the fear of embarrassment or inadequacy.

More Hasselblad images to come as I continue to learn my way around this beauty!

Be sure to check out Sarah’s stellar photos of her adventures at her website, Sarah Manriquez Photography, too!

Open for Business

The shop on my website is officially open!!

Check it out here!

I tried and tested it a million times BUT this is my first online shop so if something goes wrong please don’t hesitate to reach out. I hope you are able to take a look and find something that speaks to you.

Thank you all for your support!

Opening Tomorrow Night!

If all goes to plan my online shop will be OPEN tomorrow night! I’m putting the final touches on it now and am so excited to share some new prints with you! More will be added along the way but I’m feeling good about this as a start. ;)

In the meantime, here is a sneak peak of some of the details:

Detail from Seeds, Acrylic gel transfer over silver metal foil

Detail from Pillars, acrylic gel transfer over copper metal foil

Detail from When We Come Out the Other Side, acrylic gel transfer over gold metal foil

Detail from Just a Messenger, acrylic gel transfer over gold metal foil

Coming Soon!

I’ve been working a lot lately on setting up shop for these lovely one-of-a-kind handmade prints. Each print is created by a gel transfer technique onto metal leaf (silver, copper or gold) on Hahnemuhle Platinum Rag paper. The image sizes will either be 4'“ x 4” or 4” x 6” and the paper is 8” x 10” (some are landscape-oriented and some are portrait). I am excited to share some new prints on top of the originals!

Also, I will be making a very limited edition of a few of the Hypnagogia prints in this style- a max of 10 prints of each of maybe 10 images. These are bring created to take part in the Artist Support Pledge, an initiative founded by artist Matthew Burrows (see the Pledge’s website here). Its a simple concept: an artist pledges that for every $1,000 that they earn from sales on work priced at no more than $200 each, they will invest $200 into another artist’s work. It’s an excellent way to support the arts.

The shop should be up and running within a week and the Hypnagogia special edition prints will begin to show in two weeks. In the meantime, check out the Gilded gallery for a sneak peek of some of the prints that will be looking for a home.

On the Creepy Trees Back Home

We were outside late the other night when my son pointed to a giant looming shadow at the edge of the yard. It was just a big ol’ oak tree, but in that first split second I froze, immediately empathetic. I was sure that his six-year-old imagination was filling his head with all sorts of devious explanations as to what he was seeing. Conducting myself as the very picture of “don’t panic,” I cool-mom-ed the situation with a nonchalant, “Oh yeah? What’s up, buddy?” He just grinned up at me. “Mom, I love creepy trees.”

“I see you!” …because it looks like a retina, right? Entoptical, shot in April with my trusty Canon AE-1 and Dubblefilm Bubblegum 35mm film.

A kid after my own heart. (But he is my son so, of course, he already has it. Duh.)

There are many things I miss about Alaska- alongside some dear friends, of course. The mountains, for sure. The endless sky. The endless blueberries and the midnight sun.

Despite all of these amazing things that really do just take your breath away, I always missed the woods back east. Beautiful, peaceful and just a bit spooky, they always offered a sense of comfort and familiarity. Yes, even on very Sleepy-Hollow-I-Am-Ichabod-Crane type nights. Maybe it’s in part because the sky does feel smaller here.

The neighbor’s shed cowering behing some “creepy trees” (tm?). Canon AE-1 with Dubblefilm Bubblegum.

As I grew older I discovered a love of exploration. New England was my favorite and I would never tire of walking down forest paths or exploring long-abandoned sites (more on THIS to come later!). But despite the enjoyment I felt, I would be hard-pressed to say I truly appreciated the peace of mind that the landscape offered. Sometimes it’s just too easy to get caught up in the noise and the traffic- both the Turnpike traffic and the kind of traffic that comes with taking your work home and struggling to pay bills. When the opportunity to leave came, I latched onto it with some pretty eager talons.

Creepy tree, down! Out by the creek. Canon AE-1 with Dubblefilm Bubblegum.

You know that saying, “you can’t go back home”? It’s true that a lot changed in the years I was away. Businesses have come and gone, friends have moved away, new roads are being built… but the creepy trees- they remain the same. As I stand in our backyard, watching the chipmunks do their chipmunk thing and seeing the evidence of deer in the half-eaten hickory leaves, I get that feeling again. The sky is smaller, but this time the canopy is not constricting. It is a comfort like a blanket. I feel excited, I feel safe and I feel the pull to go back out. These creepy trees were there and will continue to be there. Maybe sometimes you do need to leave in order to finally find your way back home.

In case a single shot of “creepy trees” wasn’t enough, I present to you a multiple exposure of all of the “creepy trees” (def. tm) in the immediate back yard (before the forest part really gets going). Taken with the Lomography La Sardina 35mm with Lomography Lomochrome Purple.

Pandemic

I am beyond thankful for many things, among them certainly are the photo labs still processing film. I recently sent out a few rolls to The Darkroom in San Clemente, CA, one of which held photos of the affects of the pandemic in my area of New Jersey. I was particularly anxious to get this roll back because 1) This is a weird time and I want to make sure that down the road my kids get to see how it effected our town and 2) I used a type of film that was new to me and wanted to leave myself time to re-shoot in the event that I botched it.

Covid-19 Drive-Up Test Site, Raritan Valley Community College, May 2020

Lomochrome Metropolis was recently introduced by Lomography as the newest color negative emulsion created in about 50 years. Its trademark look features desaturated, muted tones with popping oranges and reds. In a time chock full of warning signs and caution tape, this seemed like the ideal combination.

Somerset County Hazmat Decon Unit, Raritan Valley Community College, May 2020

New Jersey is one of the most densely populated states in America; crowds, traffic and lines are par for the course. The vacant parking lots, the lack of people dining out and the empty highways are all very surreal. Topping it all off is the Covid-19 testing site at the community college parking lot across from our house. They run tests twice a week for 3 hours at a shot. The tents and structures are left standing on off days, lending itself further to the eeriness surrounding the area.

Travel Digitally, Somerset County Library- Bridgewater Branch, May 2020

Perhaps even weirder than the situation or the atmosphere itself is the consumer-culture response to this event. The Covid-19 pandemic has been branded. It seems like every company has tried to wriggle their way into the middle of this mess with a message about how they are “doing their part” to fight the invisible beast. I was not the only one bombarded with one e-mail after another from CEOs who assure me their employees are now disinfecting the store, washing their hands and are being told to stay home if they are sick. These things should be the norm, not something that needs to be paraded around during a crisis. Commercial after commercial begins with “in these unprecedented times….” as they go on to explain financing options for your new car. Banners with reminders of social distancing feature company logos, eager to be recognized for their strong moral sense of corporate responsibility. Celebrities record videos from their lavish homes, speaking of solidarity, telling us that we are all #AloneTogether. But we are not, really. Some people do not have work to return to. Some are struggling to put food on the table. Others face the reality of having to choose between working and homeschooling their children whose upcoming year at school is (understandably) still undecided. If there is one thing that we have- hopefully- learned, it is that we could certainly stand to make some adjustments to the way we live. The silver lining is that there is talk of a new normal on the horizon. What exactly that will look like remains to be seen, but I’m choosing to be optimistic for the time being.

Sponsored by Pepsi, Time to Eat Diner in Somerville, May 2020

I hope a new normal does emerge. One that grants us a heightened sense of compassion and care for others. Maybe a little more transparency and awareness of the world around us, too. Until that day comes, I hope you are all staying safe and well and hopefully finding a little joy, even if it’s just in the small things, during all of this.

Covid-19 Drive-Up Test Site, Raritan Valley Community College, May 2020

Covid-19 Drive-Up Test Site Tent, Raritan Valley Community College, May 2020

The Safety and Well-Being of Our Associates, The Village at Bridgewater Commons, May 2020

Empty Parking Lot at Macy’s, Bridgewater Commons Mall, May 2020

Curbside Pick-Up, Bridgewater, May 2020

5 Guest Max, Somerville, May 2020

No Group Ball Playing, Raritan Valley Community College, May 2020

Take-Out Only, Branchburg, May 2020

Duke Island Park, May 2020

Parks are now open, playgrounds are still closed, May 2020