As I was scrolling through my Google + stream this morning.  I came across a post by a longtime, established, and relatively renowned photographer with an image posted two ways – both in color and black and white, with the question,

“Which one do your prefer?”

“I’d prefer for you, the photographer, to be decisive and choose which one works best!  I’d prefer not to see photographs in both color and black and white.”  I wanted to holler back.  But I didn’t.  I suppose I didn’t want to ruffle anyone’s feathers.  With that said, I think it’s a worthy topic to look at and discuss, and this is my forum – so it’s fine.  If I ruffle feathers from here – so be it.

So, what’s my issue here?

Personally, I can’t stand when I see photographers present the same photographs two ways, both in color and black and white.  In my eyes, an image works either as a color image, or a black and white – not both.  (That would be a general “rule” for me.  Rules are often bent and broken, so maybe there are some times when an image does work well as a color and a black and white image, but still – that doesn’t mean that the photographer should present both!)  Choose which one resonates with you, your vision, and what it is you are expressing and communicating, and go with that.  If you are presenting the same image in both color and black and white, you are saying one of a couple things:

• •This is simply a “product”, so therefore I can show it in varied forms.
• •I am not clear as to what my photographic vision is here, nor am I clear about what it is I aim to express and communicate with this image.

In either case, it is a shame.  I’d expect this from early-on-the-path photographers still discovering their personal vision, but I am increasingly shocked to see longtime established photographers (including “the best photographers in the world” who own multiple galleries!) presenting photographs both ways.  Sadly, it is becoming more and more common.

Any piece of art is the result of a series of many decisions made by the artist.  Decisions made in-camera, decisions made in the digital (or traditional) darkroom, decisions made in the presentation.  Any poor decision along the way can make the entire thing fall apart.  You can make all the optimal and strong decisions toward making a beautiful and expressive photograph, and then at the very end put a gaudy frame and pink mat around the print and suddenly the entire presentation crumbles.  It is very important for the artist to recognize this, be decisive and confidant with each decision made along the way, and to realize that each decision holds equal importance.  If you can not be confidant with your decisions, then slow down and take your time with it, re-approach it at a later time, or ditch it altogether.  But, to ask the world for their input…no good.

I have been selling art and photography to the public for a number of years, and I can’t begin to imagine what would become of the art if you asked everyone’s opinion about what it should be.  I am sure the responses would be as varied as those who were asked.  They are not the artists – you are.  And even if you are asking a panel of other artists/photographers, their responses will all be just as varied.  So, which answer do you go with?  10 people respond – 6 vote for color and 4 vote for b&w.  Do you present the world with the color version?  The b&w version?  Or, likely you present both, right?  I don’t like it.  It isn’t for others to determine what works best with your art – unless it’s just a product.  If that’s the case, then yeah – you probably should go with both color and black and white, sepia toned and selenium toned, red and blue toned, pop style multiples, infrared, and whatever other presets you find on your software.   Then you can print the image/s on a variety of mediums like canvas (gag), metal, inkjet, wood, glass, and whatever else the lab offers.  Hell, throw it all at the wall and see what sticks!

I like to see artists being decisive with their art.  I like to see Michael Kenna express decades worth of work with one format, captured with one style camera, one print type, one size presentation, and one structured edition.  That’s probably why he is a master!  We can all learn from that.  Instead of asking the world what they think, we should ask ourselves what we think!  How do I feel about this image?  What am I trying to communicate?  What do I look to express?  How is it best expressed to the world?  By asking ourselves more questions about our own work and allowing our personal feelings to answer – not our thinking minds – then, we naturally go deeper into the work.  In the stillness of the deeper waters, clarity comes.  With clarity, art can be born and is a personal expression of the artist.

The Jungle.  Maui, Hawaii

1.  I go where I feel compelled.  I explore.
Oftentimes when I go out shooting, I head out with no particular destination in mind, and with no image in my mind’s eye.  In these cases, I go where I feel compelled.  I often say that landscape photography is all about putting yourself in the right place, at the right time, with the right frame of mind.  So, where is the “right place”?  Anywhere you feel compelled to photograph, and where you can visually arrange the elements into a compelling image.  It’s enjoyable to work this way – to go out without expectations or pre-visualizations, guided by your feelings and intuitions, and see what happens.

Pier.  La Jolla, California

2.  I go to the same spots over and over.  I study the scene.
This is another common approach that I take with many of my compositions, and has led to many of my most successful photographs.  Once you find a composition that has promise, resonates with you, and is a place that you enjoy spending time, go back time and time again.  I have spoke about the importance to studying the subject HERE.  Whether working near home or while traveling, this is a strong approach toward making successful and compelling images.  Not only does your chances for dynamic light, exciting tidal conditions, or some other interesting element increase, but your relationship with the subject deepens and often comes through the final image, making it more expressive.

Surrendering.  Maui, Hawaii

3.  I allow the elements within the frame to dictate.  I am present and aware.
With landscape photography, it’s best to be present and aware to the conditions around you.  When you bring your awareness to the movement of the oceans water, the breeze passing through the trees overhead, the clouds moving through the sky, or the rain in the distance, you will often find that a composition becomes clear.  You can work backwards from there.  For example, with Surrendering, I noticed how the waves would come ashore, reverse back and collide with the next breaking wave, causing a unique vertical splash in one area.  After noticing this within the scene before me, I worked through composing the scene, making an optimal and creative exposure, and then waited for that one extra element that would set the entire scene off – in this case it was the color in the clouds from sunset.

Hoodoo Storm.  Near Bryce Canyon, Utah

4.  I allow the weather to dictate where I go.  I remain flexible while exploring.
Sometimes when you are out exploring to see where you may feel compelled to shoot or heading to a scene that you have shot many times before, the weather is playing a factor and you can’t ignore it.  Perhaps you have one thing in mind but it’s down-pouring there, so you have to adjust.  Such was the case when I made Hoodoo Storm.  I was at Bryce Canyon and was planning on shooting through the sunset light, when a thunderstorm moved in and unleashed a lot of rain.  I jumped in the car and headed west, hoping to get to the edge of the storm.  30 minutes later, I made my way out of the rain, found a promising hill to hike up from the road, and discovered a compelling composition directly before me as the sun-setting light lit the underbelly of the clouds, resulting in a dynamic and compelling image.

Moonset.  Bandon, Oregon

5.  I research and study the landscape before visiting.  I use technology to assist.
Although the 4 methods above are my primary approaches to finding my compositions, I do tend to add an element of research online, especially before traveling to a new locale.  Google Maps might be one of the most exciting online tools for photographers in researching a shoot to a new locale.  Before my last trip to Oregon and Washington, for example, I studied the entire coastline of the two states to determine the sea-stacks I might be most drawn to.  Then, I used Google Images to get a visual feel of the surroundings.  From there, I was able to pinpoint one particular sea-stack along Oregon’s central coast that I was very drawn to, and a couple months later I was able to commit several days to photographing it, resulting in a series of images titled Rock Study.

When I think of a Master, I think of a Kung Fu Master who can be challenged by 20 men and overcome them all with one hand behind his back.  Or, a Zen Master who is awakened and fiercely present, burning so bright that those in his company taste nirvana.  Li Mu Bai from Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon was a badass Master!  Fo’ real!!  He certainly didn’t need to go around calling himself Master.  Everyone else recognized him as Master and referred to him accordingly.  He had reached a level of such mastery that it spilled into all aspects of his life and rendered him egoless.  Awake.

That’s what I think of when I think of “Master” – where such mastery in one area spills into all the other areas of one’s life and the result is a certain level of heightened awareness, egoless-ness, and inter-connectedness.  And, let us not forget – humility!  Is a Master really a Master if he/she is obviously ego-based?  Ego-driven?  And going around saying, “I am Master.  Bow down before me.”  Not in my world.  Not in my eyes.

Of course, I do think there are Master photographers.  Michael Kenna is a Master.  Christopher Burkett is a Master.  Edward Burtynsky is a Master.  David Fokos is a Master.  And you know what?  You won’t find the use of the word “Master” anywhere on their websites!!  Let us not forget, “Masters” do not have to announce themselves to the world and convince us of their mastery.

PAINTED FOREST  Maui, Hawaii 2013

A number of years ago, I decided I wanted to make a successful image or two of the Rainbow Eucalyptus trees.  I am aware of a few small groves of these trees here on Maui, and I had my sights on one of them in particular.  These trees are extraordinary.  Beautiful.  Perhaps the most stunning tree on the planet!  Well, no matter – one of the most stunning anyways.  Really, they look as if they were hand-painted by Salvador Dali himself!

As a subject to a successful landscape photograph, this can be very easy to bugger up.  How?  The most common mistake would be to include too much in the scene, allowing these other elements to take away from the trees.  Another aspect that I was hyper-aware of is that these trees have been photographed once or twice before.  Okay, many times before.  I didn’t want to just go out and do the norm, the expected.  I wanted to do something special, something different.  So, I waited.  I resisted doing the norm and getting the standard shot to include into my portfolio, desiring something more expressive and personal.

A couple of years ago, the vision became clear in my mind’s eye.  I visualized a way to capture these trees in a way that was different, personal and of-my-own-style, while bringing the viewers attention solely to the beauty of the trees.  I’d shoot them at night! – while introducing my own light source.  Now, with the image clearer in my mind, it was just a matter of doing the work.

On a few separate occasions, I recruited a friend to journey to the other side of the island, in the dark of night, to assist me in my attempts to bring vision to expression.  On each of those occasions, I came close to my vision.  Sometimes very close, making it difficult to decide whether the images were worthy of releasing into my portfolio and to the world, or if I should work harder and try again.  Each time, after living with the images for some weeks, I ultimately determined that they did not live up to the vision I had.  The work was not done.

My energy waned some, and nearly a year passed before I returned to give it another go, but the idea and vision stayed with me, and I trusted that it was simply a matter of time before it would happen.  Early 2013, while driving home from a shoot, I get to thinking about the trees.  It’s nighttime. I’m in the neighborhood. I’m feeling motivated.  But, I’m alone.  The thinking-mind tries to start talking me out of it:  It’s totally dark.  The shoot will be too tough with no assistance.  What if zombies get me.  And on it went.  As I approached the trees, I was still 50/50 whether to stop or B-line it home: I am kinda hungry.  I still have an-hour drive home.  A glass of wine would be awesome right now.  As the trees neared, the will to shoot won and I pulled the truck over, geared up, and headed out to shoot the trees in the dark of night.

For the next 90 minutes, I worked through the process of making the images, with a goal of making two successful photographs.  From my earlier experiences, I already had a good idea of the look that I was after, and how to achieve it with my painting-with-light techniques.  Nearby cows roaming about in the surrounding fields sure did sound like zombies coming to get me, but I stayed focused and remained mindful to the myriad aspects that would make this work, or not.  Once I felt that I had successfully captured good strong foundations in-camera, I headed home, anxious to see if they would translate to print.

I am happy to say that they do translate well to print, and do represent my initial vision very well!

RAINBOW TREES  Maui, Hawaii 2013

I often speak with my Maui photo workshop students about how to make personal-expressive work, and working through “the process”.  It is important – recognize the path as a process and do the work.  Allowing yourself to have a vision in your mind, and then working backwards from there is an exciting way to work!  Vision to expression.  Working this way, the process of making photographs is very rewarding and the path is a joyful one.

As the world of photography and image making is proliferating, so is the behavior of seeing-and-repeating.  In recognizing and bringing awareness to this, continually look to create work that is more personal, more expressive, and more communicative.  Pass on the obvious photographs and delve deeper.  Ask continually:  What am I feeling?  What am I wanting to communicate?  What do I want to express?  It has been very exciting working with workshop students in regards to this, and bringing it to the forefront of our attention.  Activating the right-brain and bringing balance to the overactive thinking-mind.  It is important to remember – artwork is feeling based, and it resonates (or not) with people on a feeling level.  The more you can approach the work from a personal feeling based place, the more likely you are to communicate that.  The more you are able to communicate that, the more compelling your photography is bound to be.

I look forward to delving even deeper into this with workshop participants in a La Jolla photo workshop I have just announced for August!

It has been on my wishlist for quite a long time to view and photograph the lava flowing into the ocean on Hawaii’s Big Island, but for the past few years, the flow has not really been doing much.  A couple of months ago, it finally broke through and is now providing surface activity and ocean entry where visitors can get close and witness this amazing spectacle.  From the National Park side, it is a 6-8 mile hike each way across lava fields, which pretty much rules that option out.  From the Kalapana side, it is approximately 2 miles hike each way, but this side is private property and there is a certain amount of state and landowner control, preventing people from simply walking in on their own to view the lava.  So what is one to do?  Here on Maui, I heard through the “coconut wireless” about a travel company called Poke-A-Stick Tours, that took people out to the lava.  I called and spoke with Cheryl, owner/guide/host extraordinaire, and planned a couple of days with her afternoon sunset hikes out to the lava flow.

I flew over to the Big Island and made my way to the end-of-the-road, Highway 130, where the lava has taken over the road and oddly enough, where there are still a certain number of residents living.  There were a couple security officers and a checkpoint preventing just anybody from going through.  Before long, Cheryl pulled up on her ATV and met with me and a couple from Seattle.  Our afternoon hike would just be the four of us, which was great considering she often takes 20 people out!  We followed her past the gates and onto her private property, where we locked the gate behind us and readied ourselves for the hike.  I instantly like Cheryl.  She’s my kind of people, I think to myself.  Confidant, relaxed, comfortable being who-she-be…

The hike out to the lava takes us 90 minutes, or so.  We stop occasionally and Cheryl tells us some of her interesting story, along with facts regarding the volcano and making sure to point out the wild orchid, one of the few things we see growing out here in the lava field.

Approaching the lava for the first time is a total trip.  I’m a bit freaked at first because in my mind, I’ve always visualized lava as: this fast-flowing super-hot substance that will burn you up instantly.  Step on the wrong surface that’s only two inches thick and it cracks open and you fall into a river of lava and burn up instantly.  Put your hand in lava and you pull out a hand-less stump!  It’s super dangerous and any step around the stuff could be your last.  Well, as it turns out, it’s not exactly like that.  Cheryl kinda laughs at me when I tell her this is how I visualize it, and soon enough we are there beside surface activity and poking sticks in the stuff!  In reality, this lava is like a thick pancake batter that moves very slowly – it oozes its way through and over and under already dried lava.  Cheryl said something that made a lot of sense – “Mother Nature has a way of telling you when you’re too close or it’s unsafe, by being too hot.”  And that was totally true.  When I poked a stick in the lava, the hair on my legs and face felt like they were burning off.  There’s no way I could have got closer.  When I walked on lava that was only a couple hours old – it was hot and I knew I couldn’t linger on it.  You can tell what is safe and what is not by the heat coming off of it, but it is still very trippie and I walked around very…lightly, and very mindfully.

On this first trip out to the lava, I carried out all of my usual gear in my backpack, with tripod, and a big ol’ Nikon 200-400 f/4 that I rented from LensRentals.com attached to my chest.  It was 40 pounds of gear, and I certainly was not following the advice I offer students during my Maui photography workshops when I instill in them to “keep it simple”.  (See, I fall into the traps too!)  I have always loved close-ups of the lava flowing into the ocean and had hoped to capture a photograph of this, but apparently was overdue for an expensive (and heavy) reminder that I should just stick to what I do.  I should have just gone with my usual gear and kept my focal lengths to 24mm and 35mm – on the wide side where I am most comfortable and where I am most accustomed to seeing the world.  I ended up wasting critical sweet-light fiddling with this massive 200-400 on a tripod/head system that’s not really designed for such a big lens.  Add the element of a fairly strong breeze, and every image I attempted to make with this lens was soft or blurred.  To add to the frustration, next thing I know, Cheryl is telling me we gotta go.  What?!  The light is still good?  Noooooo!  Total failure!  I cry to myself silently, as we begin the hike back.  Of course, I totally understand why we are leaving when we are – the Seattle couple already seems a bit concerned with hiking out under the darkening sky, and obviously this trip doesn’t revolve around me and some photograph I’m attempting to make.

I quietly hike back.  I look at the thoughts stirred within myself and regain a calm and center.  I’ve got another chance.  Learn from this.  What did you do wrong?  What do you have to do differently?  What is the best approach?  I review to myself.  By time we are nearly back, I find an opportunity to speak with Cheryl without the others hearing and am able to express to her, calm and authentically without the annoyance from earlier in me, “Cheryl, I am over here to create a dynamic photograph.  That was torture leaving there when we did – but I totally understand why we did.  What do I have to do to stay out there longer?  To stay an extra hour?  What do you suggest?”  She graciously told me she’d try and help me figure something out and to call her the next morning.

The next morning, she tells me she’s hooked me up and we make plans to go back out the following day.  I could hug her!  Now, I’ve got to figure out photographically what adjustments to make.  I decide to leave the 200-400 in the car for the rest of the trip, concluding that I simply won’t be able to keep it still enough for sharp images and that I should just stick to what I know, and what I do.

The following afternoon, I hike back out into the lava with Cheryl and a group of about a dozen others.  I have left the large lens behind and focus my attention on the gear I have, and placing myself in a dynamic spot.  I choose a spot along the cliffs, being sure to keep a good two feet between myself and the edge.  The ground is hot, but not so hot to the touch that I’m worried to place my backpack at my feet.  With tripod set, I stay in this spot for the next 45 minutes.  A number of times, I feel the bottom of my shoes with my hand because it sure feels like my feet are heating up, but each time I do, they don’t feel like they are melting, so I stay put.  Looking over the edge, the lava is flowing down the side of the 60 foot cliff right below me, so I fully realize the lava literally is flowing beneath my feet.  How far beneath my feet?  Could this entire piece of cliff just fall off?  Is the ground getting hotter?  My mind has trouble settling, but I persevere.  It’s nearly dark, I’ve been shooting this spot for the past 45 minutes, and my feet are uncomfortably hot, so I finally decide it’s time to move.  I pick up my pack and it’s too hot to the touch!  My jacket that was between the pack and the ground feels like it’s partially melting.  I move to a cooler spot and allow my gear, my body and my thoughts to all simmer down.

Cheryl and her group has left, and she’s kindly arranged for me to tag along with another group back to my car, allowing me an extra couple of hours.  As darkness falls, I realize that ideas I had for capturing the lava under a starry sky isn’t really do-able – the brightness of the lava and the darkness of everything else is way too much dynamic range and even trying to blend multiple exposures seems pointless.  I spend the last hour mostly enjoying the beauty of the lava flowing into the Pacific Ocean, with a star-filled sky above, thankful for the moment, the place, for life.  It’s time to surrender to the fact that photographically – I got what I got and it is what it is.  I’ll hike out of here in darkness and tomorrow, it’s back home.

By the time I make it back to my car, it’s 10pm.  I woke up this morning at 3:20am (!?) to experience the lava by boat (see story HERE).  You’d think I’d be B-lining it back to my place to sleep, but I suppose I’m so buzzed from the close-encounters-to-hot-lava experience that I’m not ready to call it quits, not yet, so I turn left instead of right and proceed to make the 75 minute drive to Hawaii Volcanoes National Park.  I follow the red glow in the sky in search of one more image before throwing in the towel.

INFERNO  Big Island, Hawaii 2013

I was thankful for the company of another photographer from Florida while I spent nearly an hour making this image.  We chatted casually while both working out the exposure.  This was a challenging image to make due to the extreme dynamic range difference between the bright light coming from the glowing lava lake and the dark surroundings.  After some experimenting, I attached my filter holders and ended up with 5-stops of graduated neutral density filter used from the bottom up.  This controlled the brightness enough and resulted in an optimal exposure.  I also experimented some with using a black card (actually, a black Lee filter case) in front of the lens – moving it slowly to essentially dodge the light from hitting the sensor, and I think this technique worked well enough given the circumstances.  Once I was confidant I had a shot, I called-it (for reals this time) and made the 75 minute drive back to Hilo, and my awaiting bed.

A deep and satisfying sleep was the fitting end to an exhausting and magical experience photographing Hawaii’s active volcano and lava flow.

If you are looking to visit the Big Island of Hawaii and would like a guide to take you to the lava, then I can personally recommend Cheryl and Poke-A-Stick Guided Lava Tours.  The website is HERE.  Not only does she and her fiancee Scott offer the guided tours, but they also have cabins on their property for you to rent – on the lava flow and totally off-the-grid!  This is where I will stay on my next visit!  (tell them I sent you.)

Want a photographer to guide you to these locales and others on the Big Island?  Contact Me and let’s discuss it.

The title of the image at the top of the post, The Being Behind, was inspired by these words by Eckhart Tolle:

If you can be absolutely comfortable
with not knowing who you are,
then what is left is who you are -
the Being behind the human,
a field of pure potentiality rather than something that is already defined.
Give up defining yourself -
to yourself and others.
You won’t die.
You will come to life.

It’s 4:30am.  Crazy to think that I’ve already been awake for over an hour – not that I’m thinking, and not that I’m really awake!  But here I am, at Isaac Hale State Park on the Big Island of Hawaii with 20 other walking zombies that look a lot like sleepy tourists, all anxious and curious by the adventure that awaits us.

Captain Shane Turpin and crew of two pull up alongside our gathered group of sleepwalkers in a big truck, towing an awkward looking passenger boat hitched on a trailer.  After some curt dialogue about the what-and-what-not’s to our impending trip, we climb a ladder and board the boat.  The driver then drives us down to the boat ramp, backs us in to the water, and before we know it, we are free from the trailer and moving out past the breakers into the dark sea.

I have my pack full of camera gear with two layers of water resistant protection at my feet.  I’m wearing a fleece and and a raincoat, which keeps me warm in the surprisingly cool morning and does well enough keeping me dry against the waves that are continuously splashing and blowing into the boat and in my face.  My shorts are soaked.  I feel like a Navy Seal going out on a special night mission, but keep getting pulled back to reality by the chitter-chatter of over-talkative tourists.  Isn’t O-dark-early a time for quiet?  I wonder to myself, curious as to how some people can never be still and silent.

45 minutes-to-an-hour later, we arrive at our destination – New Earth, in the form of hot molten lava flowing steadily into the Pacific Ocean, splendidly steaming and smoking and wonderfully beautiful.  Captain Shane maneuvers the boat with effortless ease, to within yards of the lava.  I feel the radiance on my face and legs, and within minutes, the glowing heat dries my wet shorts.  The lava meets the sea at a number of different spots along a 1/4 mile stretch of coast. In some spots, the thick fiery substance slowly drops into the water, and in other spots it’s gushing, as if it is being pumped out of the earth.  It is totally awesome to view this spectacle in the dark of night!

As wonderful as it is to the eyes, attempting to photograph hot molten lava in the dark of night from a moving boat in a rough sea, is completely futile.  I practice patience and wait for the light of a coming sunrise to illuminate the scene while enjoying the moment – which to my delight, has proven to be so powerful of a scene that it has rendered some silence from the tourists.  Amen!

Before too long, the light of day takes over the darkness and I am able to start working with the camera.  The Captain slowly runs the boat parallel to the coast so the passengers on one side are able to view and photograph, then turns back the other way allowing the others the spectacular view.  With this method, you are face to face with the amazing sight, or looking out to sea and the setting of a crescent moon.  During the 5-minute periods of looking out to sea, I review my images and quickly adjust my settings to better capture this dynamic scene.  In the end, there’s probably not more than 10 minutes of optimal light to shoot images while being face to face with the lava.

One aspect of concern is that half-a-dozen times, we are completely immersed in the gaseous fumes spewing out of the planet.  Just 2 days ago, I was told by a guide while hiking into the lava flow on foot, “Don’t breathe that smoke and gas – it will kill you.”  I also remember reading online in my research that it is very dangerous to breathe.  Apparently, I am the only one on this boat that has been told this or read this in my research!  The Captain obviously does not seem concerned, and every time we are immersed in smoke and gas, I am the only one aboard that responds by burying my face and eyes into a relatively protective cocoon I’ve formed inside my fleece and raincoat.  On the occasion I peer out, my eyes burn and I quickly burrow back into my cocoon.  These periods are fleeting, maybe 30-45 seconds at a time, and it’s easy enough to cover up, but it still leaves me wondering, how harmful is this?  If not for me on this one-time experience, then for the Captain and his crew who do this multiple times daily?

Morning has broken, the sweet light is fading, and we make our final pass by the lava before heading back to our starting point.  The seas are a little rougher now, but no one seems to mind much, buzzed with the high of a spectacular experience freshly emblazoned in heart and mind.  To see Mother Nature creating more land, New Earth, right in front of my eyes…what an insanely incredible experience!

EARTH BLOOD  Big Island, Hawaii 2013

HOT WATER. STUDY 1  Big Island, Hawaii 2013

CHECK OUT THE ENTIRE PORTFOLIO TITLED NEW EARTH HERE

The photo workshop side of my business is growing all of the time and Maui Photo Expeditions has been a lot of fun so far.  I am looking to expand some trips outside of Maui and would love to get over to the Big Island more, so will be actively planning group trips over there.  In the meantime, if you are visiting the Big Island of Hawaii and would like to discuss a personalized one-on-one workshop like I provide here on Maui, please Contact Me.  I am happy to island-hop over!  See details to my Maui Photo Expeditions HERE.

With this photograph, I used a shutter of 1/2 second.  Two minutes would have evoked a serene and peaceful feel, but I wanted the big winter surf to be the focal point and to evoke a sense of Mother Nature’s raw power.  The final element that finishes this capture is the warm light from the setting sun, captured moments before it dipped below the horizon to end another beautiful day in paradise.