Nobody enjoys cloning out dust bunnies from their digital images in Photoshop or Lightroom.  It pretty much just blows.  So if there’s a way to go about it more efficiently, you’d probably like to hear it, right?  This tip, from Scott Martin, will make your digital life a little less aggravating.  Thanks, Scott!       

“When I was a drum scan operator in the early 90’s I had to be systematic about cleaning dust on every single scan. In Photoshop, start by zooming to 100% (option command 0)and hit the home button to go to the upper right corner. Holding down the command key turns the page up and down buttons into page left and right buttons. That trick worked in Photoshop 2 and still works today. 

Lightroom improves upon this functionality nicely. Zoom to 1:1 and hit the home key to fill the screen with the upper left most corner of your image. Hold down the shift key while pressing the page down key. Not only will it act as a ”Page Right” key, it will take you to the next column once you’ve reached the right side, like an old typewriter would.  You can continue hitting Shift-Command-PageDown until you’ve spotted your entire image. It a systematic way of “combing over” your entire image without worrying about missing anything.”

Scott Martin is the founder of onsight, a capture-to-print training and consulting business that helps digital imaging professionals optimize their workflows for quality and efficiency.  I’ve worked with Scott at workshops in Moab and can attest to the fact that he knows his stuff, he’s a heck of a teacher and an all-around cool dude.

Last weekend I skipped out for a sunrise shoot in one of my favorite areas of the park, Courthouse Towers.  I was hoping to find a healthy wildflower bloom but it’s still a little early.  Actually, it isn’t early but this year the bloom is all wacky because of the highly unusual weather we’ve been experiencing.  At any rate, I scrambled up to the base of the Three Gossips to have a look around.  The view was amazing!  I took out my iPhone and recorded a short, not at all image stabilized 360 degree panoramic movie from my perch high up above the valley.  Here’s what you see in the video, in order of appearance: Three Gossips, Baby Arch, Sheep Rock, Courthouse Wash and the end of the Great Wall (in the distance), the Tower of Babel, the Windows area (waaaaay out there), The Organ, the La Sal Mountains and finally Park Avenue.  My video editing skills are non-existent.  Please pardon the shaky video and lack of a catchy soundtrack.  It could be worse – I could have narrated during the whole thing.

Here’s the video, which I uploaded to my newly created Bret Edge Photography YouTube channel.  I have no idea what else I’ll post here but I do hope to start adding some fun stuff every now and then.  Enjoy!

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UzmWdv8qQHY&hl=en&fs=1]

There was a time, many years ago, when my world revolved around being an outdoor athlete.  I was a rock climber, trail runner, backpacker, mountain biker, long distance hiker, canyoneer, kayaker and sometimes I would combine them all when doing adventure races.  I spent most of my free time training.  I was obsessed with going far and getting there fast.  I spent a lot of time in the outdoors but it went by so quickly that I rarely had a moment to enjoy a sunset or notice the coyote yipping in the distance. 

And then it happened.  I fell in love with nature photography.  I gave up adventure racing.  I spent more time photographing and less time training.  I stopped counting miles traveled each week and started counting rolls of film exposed.  Everything just sort of slowed down.

Looking back I realize that photography has taught me some valuable lessons.  I’ve learned that when you don’t train on a daily basis the size of your waistband increases.  Actually, I’ll blame that on age.  More importantly, I’ve learned a few things that are helpful to me as a member of the human race and I think they’ve made me a better husband, brother, friend and an all-around better person.

1) Have Some Patience - Through photography I have learned the art of patience.  I have learned that it is okay to slow down.  It’s not about the miles covered or the peaks bagged.  It’s about getting up early and sitting in the desert watching an entirely new day develop in front of me.  It’s about plopping down on a rock and waiting for the light to work its magic upon the landscape.  It’s about slowing down and enjoying a moment, whether it’s while you’re creating art or spending a few unexpected minutes with your family.  Life is entirely too short to spend it rushing from one place to the next.

2) Be Persistent - What would it be like if every time we took out our camera white puffy clouds filled the blue sky, dramatic light poured down over the landscape and an eagle glided through our frame?  Sure, at first, it would be awesome but after a while it would become really boring.  Okay, I admit – it probably wouldn’t.  But the reality is that we often have to visit a location over and over before Mother Nature feels we’ve earned the right to witness her awesomeness.  Those who persist will eventually be there when all the right conditions collide.  Persistence reaps rewards not enjoyed by those who are easily discouraged.  Know what you want and don’t be afraid to go after it with all you’ve got.

3) See The Light - Before photography consumed my life the only purpose light served was to illuminate the trail, rock or river before me.  My first “a-ha!” moment occurred in the Sonoran Desert outside Phoenix.  I was out for a trail run after work in the Squaw Peak Preserve when the setting sun backlit the translucent needles of a field of cholla cactus.  It literally stopped me in my tracks.  I stood there, jaw slack, staring at these beautiful cactus glowing in the late afternoon light.  How many times had I run or biked this trail and never had I noticed how beautiful they were?  I had only been concerned with keeping them out of my skin (not always successful).  For the first time I stood there wishing I was peering through a viewfinder.  Since that day I’ve had hundreds more moments just like that one.  Each and every one has been just as special as the first.

4) Don’t Neglect The Details - It’s difficult to appreciate a tiny wildflower or the beautiful texture of juniper tree bark when you’re flying by in the middle of a long trail run.  After moving to Colorado in 2002 I set a goal to spend more time developing my ability to find and photograph intimate landscapes.  In my pre-photography days I never would have slowed down long enough to study a stand of autumnal aspen trees  looking for the perfect balance of color, light and symmetry.  Photography helped me to discover that if you enjoy life’s little details you’ll be even more appreciative of successes on a grander scale.

5) Art As Therapy - The year 2001 was not a stellar one for me.  Early in the year I went through a difficult break-up, the events of 9/11 deeply affected me, my Mom passed away in November and I really didn’t enjoy my job.  I was sinking into depression and it seemed I was on a path spiraling quickly downhill.  I decided to move from Phoenix to Denver and use all the new free time associated with being single to immerse myself in photography.  Eventually, my mood improved.  It seemed that creating art was cathartic.  By the end of 2002 I felt like I’d come back from the brink of a place I’d rather never revisit.  Putting all my energy into art was a most intense therapy.  Now, when I need to clear my head, I head out to the desert to scout a new location or make a few images.  After a few hours I’m back in the land of the rational.

There are no accidents in life.  I never suspected that picking up a camera would change my life.  But it has, and I believe I’m a better citizen of the earth because of it.       

What have you learned about life through photography?  Continue the conversation by leaving a comment!

I like to think that I’m a pretty creative guy.  I’m a photographer and although I don’t consider myself a “writer”, I do write.  Creativity is part of the equation for any artistic endeavor and as you all probably know, artists occasionally have mental blocks.

You may have noticed that I haven’t been as active on my blog over the last few weeks.  That’s partially due to time constraints but more a result of a mental block that is stifling my creativity with respect to writing.  Basically, I feel like I’m running out of ideas.

I love the blog and more than anything I enjoy the interactions with all of you.  I’ve got a few articles I’m working on but I’d like to build a reserve of topics that I can fall back on when writer’s block strikes.  So, I’m asking you for some help.

Here’s what I’ve got up my sleeve now: a gear review of the Acratech Leveling Head, a depth of field experiment/explanation, resources for planning a photo trip and making the most of an almost lost opportunity, fun with fisheyes (fisheye lens, not actual fish eyeballs – that’s nasty!).  That’s just about it.  So sad…

Here’s where I beg for your help.  I would be super appreciative to any and all who leave a comment or two suggesting some topics related to photography that I might write about.  Got a question for the experts?  Leave a comment.  Got an idea for an article?  Leave a comment.  Want to buy an expensive lens and send it to me to test so I can write a gear review?  I love you and will send you my shipping address.  Seriously though, I’m open to hearing all legitimate ideas.  Sooooooo…the gates are open.  Have at it!

Bad light is a figment of your imagination.  Seriously.  It just doesn’t exist.  There is only light, and what we choose to do with it is what separates good photographers from grumpy photographers.

Here’s an example to illustrate my rather bold statement.  Let’s say you’re visiting Moab and you’re stoked to photograph Mesa Arch with the trademark neon red glow on the underside of the arch.  You awake on the morning of your shoot only to find the sky filled with dull, gray clouds.  Nevertheless, you’re an intrepid photographer with eternal optimism so you head out the door with camera and tripod in hand.  On the drive out of Moab it starts to rain.  As you climb the switchbacks that deliver you to the top of the Island in the Sky district of Canyonlands the rain turns to snow.  It’s late April and it shouldn’t be snowing but there it is falling all around you.  It isn’t snowing hard enough to cover the ground but some of the vegetation is holding snow.  Arriving at the Mesa Arch trailhead you are thrilled to discover that yours is the only car in the parking lot.  With a headlamp strapped to your noggin you make the short hike to the arch.  There you set up your tripod and wait, confident that the clouds will part and warm light will erupt from the sky.  But it never does.  Minutes pass and soon the landscape around you is illuminated in low contrast, diffused light filtering through thick clouds.  It’s obvious that the only glow this morning will be from your red face as your temper flares.  Bad light?  Think again.

You obviously aren’t going home with the photo you intended to make.  No spectacular sunrise light, no red glow.  Switch gears and let the creative juices flow and you might just find a unique, intimate photo.  Overcast light eliminates harsh shadows and allows your sensor to capture every little detail in a scene.  Use that light to photograph patterns in the sandstone or, as in this photo, a beautiful juniper tree accented with a dusting of snow.  As you walk around with an open mind and a positive attitude you start to find all kinds of interesting scenes and your memory card is soon full.  After a fulfilling morning shoot you head back into town, eager to chow on some huevos rancheros and download images to your laptop.

Your success as a nature photographer is tied to your ability to improvise and adapt.  If you’re given a glorious sunset you’d better be there to photograph mountain peaks kissed with brilliant alpenglow.  When the clouds roll in turn your attention to intimate landscapes.  If a thunderstorm develops look forward to the drama that is sure to unfold when the clouds break.  Once you learn to use the light you’re offered you’ll never have another unsuccessful photo trip.

Got some experience overcoming “bad” conditions on a photo trip?  I’d love to hear your story!  Post it in the comments section and feel free to include a link to an image that illustrates your story.