So this is the SS.com article I wrote for this coming week. I figured no one will read it so it’s not like I’m spoiling anything.

Best,

C

…

Golf is like watching paint dry. Golf is no photographing the back swing. Golf is no talking. Golf is having a dress code. Golf is golf clapping. Golf is making your way through crowds to see the “action.” Golf is on your feet all day. Golf is a long drawn out marathon. Golf is sunburn, despite SPF45. Golf is five frames every 10 minutes. Golf is seeing green all, day, long.

Yes, a majority of us have been there. “You have a golf assignment today,” your editor tells you. You cringe for a moment, accept it, and realize you’ll be on the links trying to pinpoint X player and have to zoom in on the tags of their bag to get an identification. On top of that you have to orient yourself on a golf course you’ve never been (half the time without a map) and bone up on your golf lingo when your write your cutlines. Yes, it’s easy to get frustrated with, considering it looks similar photographically over and over again. It’s a sport easy to hate because it has “lack of action” and small window for moments.

But you know what? Depsite all the negatives of golf, the dividends of patients make golf worth it.

Golf is full of features. Moments. Faces. Passion. And here in Augusta, Georgia, golf is king.

Yes, it’s clearly easier to photograph when it’s the quintessential golf tournament in the world, but it still requires the photographic patients and discipline learned at the average-level tournaments.

Lefty, Tiger, Fuzzy, Walrus, Tank. Sounds more like a good punch line to a joke. But these are just some of the people competing for something more than a green jacket, they are competing for legendary status. For one week, I was privileged to witness it all.

The Masters Tournament is unlike any sporting event on earth. The city shifts business, hotel rates quadruple and the students take a spring break. The world, even if you aren’t a fan of golf is interested who will win. Kinda like the Kentucky Derby; I’m no equine enthusiast, but each year when it comes along, I pay attention. The same goes for the Masters Tournament.

This year was my second coverage of the event. I felt more comfortable than last because I was learning the lay of the course, who’s who and what’s what my “rookie” year. This year I felt more comfortable being familiar with faces and orientation. Playing Tiger Woods PGA Tour ’12 on Xbox didn’t hurt either.

Each morning we powwowed to talk about the “shopping list” of people and items to be photographed. After that was accomplished a team of five shooters, equipped with card runners, coordinated holes to cover in a team effort. Radios with stealthy earpieces was the only way to communicate and efficient despite itching your ear profusely at the end of the day.

The sun beats down on you hard as you make images. Sweat rolls off your back and despite sunblock, you end up burnt. Sip, sip from the camelback. Click, click from the camera. Card runner scribble, scribble as they mark the tan envelope. Card drop. Editors edit. Radio to next hole. Repeat.

By the third or fourth day it becomes methodical. By the last two days you’re in the zone and doing it in your sleep. Nights, you hit the pillow hard. The routine is up at 5:30 a.m. and work 10-14 hour days for a full week.

In the end, Hollywood couldn’t have scripted a better story. Rory McIlroy imploding, Tiger showing his stripes again and Charl Schwartzel winning on the 50^th anniversary since Gary Player, a fellow South African player, won as the first international competitor. We were frantically changing game plans over the radio as seven players were at the top of the leaderboard approaching the last six or seven holes. When the dust settled and Schwartzel surged, another Masters was in the books. Slip on the green jacket, click, click, clack, clack. Done. Collapse. Sleep.

Night,

C

I know I promised you all 30 images from 2010 but I’m just out of time. Quite frankly, it’s May. I’m a horrible blogger (pushing to be better) and I just want to get onto 2011.

So without further adieu, 2010 was another year I felt I grew a lot. It was a big step for me to move south after being in Nashua for four years.

I’m proud of what I did with the Dream 16 series and small essays. But 2011 is all about pursuing “big boy” essays.

The area I grew the most was in the sports department. Augusta has ample sports and I was eager to shoot. All in all another good year in the books. Onto, 2011. Big boy essays, remember. Sports will be talked about in my next post.

Best,

C

THOUGHTS: My editor John asked me to produce a series of portraits highlighting our annual football pre-season standouts.

Sixteen athletes.

A theme.

A day to brainstorm.

No problem?

We sat down with the sports dept. the following day and I pitched three ideas. One was a military theme. Another was a metal texture theme. The last was a theme based off the term, “Friday night lights.”

The latter was the best of the ideas and to be honest, even though I had the dazzling thoughts in my head, the execution was going to be a challenge. I had never light painted but I wanted to do new things that I had never seen done before. With that said, I was headed into sink or swim.

Logistically it was not a problem because we were going to shoot it in the studio. But I needed the equipment. Personally I was okay investing in equipment in making the series possible, I knew how big it was going to be.

D.J. was the easiest and most fun to work with in the bunch. The best portraits are those who are willing to push limits. In this case I asked if he was comfortable with yelling. I didn’t just want his mouth gaping open, because it’s noticeable when it’s not real. I wanted vein-in-neck-popping and all.

D.J. did short bursts of yells. I popped the flash with a 10 degree grid spot and then started painting in complete darkness for 30 seconds. My light painting tool was a electronic LED pinwheel that spun when you pressed the button. It flashed reds and blues but only the reds registered so nicely on the frame, minus small hints of blues. I was okay with that.

My arm went in a spiral pattern in three layers. Background. Middle ground. Foreground. I wanted a three dimensional effect so chose to play off those layers.

To be honest, I got it right after 7-8 tries. But I decided to push it and play with it. After about 20 frames, I knew what I had was exactly what I wanted.

In the end. Simple but complex and no Photoshop to boot. I call it a successful studio session.

Our now departed video editor Steve produced a wonderful video piece on the series. Unfortunately they don’t contain my thoughts on this particular portrait but it gives the jest of what I was doing.

Because I neglected my blog for a year, I feel I owe it to you and myself, reflection and thoughts on images I felt shaped 2010 for me as a person and photojournalist.

The first image I want to start with is the story of a young mother who lost her brother D’Than after he was dared to jump into Langley Pond in S.C. and drowned.

While the photo is a pretty straight forward photo, it’s interesting to talk about the events that got me to this point.

When I arrived, the mood in the air was very somber. I can only imagine what it was like for this young woman to recall the fateful weekend she endured after finding out her brother had passed.

We began talking and I established the presence of my camera as the crack of the shutter as it ripped through the silence. Scenarios like these you never know the human response because they have never had their life documented beyond a superficial snapshot let alone recall a story that is heartbreaking.

She was stoic and staring off into space, the weight of the world seemed to be carried on her shoulders. Her friend Shontae put her arm around her to comfort her. LaTina clung to Makila like a loaf of bread.

The writer Kyle began talking about the events of that weekend after some small talk, just so we could get to know her a little better. She was open about her feelings, and despite the tough story, she wanted us there. We talked for bout 30 minutes. Kyle got what he needed and left. I stayed to ask a couple more questions. Not to undercut Kyle’s abilities, I needed a few more questions answered. Not because for the story but for myself.

Journalism is a peculiar thing to me, it really isn’t “journalism” like in a textbook or taught at colleges. It actually isn’t journalism. To me, I approach my job as person to person. The same way anyone would talk to a stranger or meet an individual. I tend to remove the filter of a, b, c, and d and just be a human.  I think at times we get wrapped up in formulas, people can see through those filters. It becomes very, ‘business.’  People become guarded and not reveal the true self. I suppose that’s what I wanted to see most, the thing we photojournalists want to witness daily. The uninhibited self. The kind of self, when you pull back all the layers you see the image of feeling. Unguarded.  That is why I stayed.

I began talking with LaTina asked a few more questions and then the one question came up that struck a deep chord. “What are you going to miss most about D’Than?”

She cried. I held back my tears. I comforted her, told her God bless you and parted.

On my way home, I pulled over and had a good cry myself. The extraction of heavy emotion is always taxing on the soul. For a brief moment, I was a vicarious instrument for this young woman. What I saw was doubt, fear and sorrow. But I know LaTina will be fine. That’s the other thing I did see.

My friend Frank at the beginning of my career asked me, “Did you bleed and sweat for your photos today? Did you cry with your subjects?”

At the time, I didn’t understand what he meant so many years ago, but on this day I truly did.

THOUGHTS: I really don’t classify myself as a “sports shooter.” I suppose I don’t like confining myself to be just one thing or title. I suppose if you asked me what I think of myself as, I’d say, life shooter.

If life is happening, I want to be there. If a person and people are there, there’s a story. Because, well, as they say, everyone has a story to tell.

This image was from a daily assignment. I set up lights 45 minutes prior to the event to make sure all was in place and secured. I always make sure my lights are far enough from water — there’ s no fooling with electricity, water and lives.

I shoot very emotionally, meaning, I listen to my heart, my personal Jimminy Cricket. Sometimes I ask myself with the analytical nature of journalists, “Why?” You know, “Why shoot this?” “Why is it important?” etc. etc. It helps to keep you questioning your own work in a good way. In this instant, my answer to myself to the question “Why?” was, “Placement.”

The elements came together. Moment? Check. Light? Check. Sense of place? Check. Does the frame have resolve with the water at the bottom? Check. Can you push it further and add the expression of the judges? Check. Can you fit her in that nice white dead space? Barely. But check. The flags is what makes this frame for me, start taking away elements, you have a less impactful photo. Without, you have a straightforward photo. I suppose I like to shoot “dangerous” when I can. Meaning, taking risks in the hopes of a more elevated frame.

In the end I was happy with this frame because it just fell into place, literally. I had one shot to get it right but had about 30 chances for that one. When you “work” a situation like that it’s more of a Sam Abell approach where you find the composition and let life happen through the frame. Life of the Photograph.

THOUGHTS: Moments like these are a Godsend.

In some ways this frame is subtle but if you examine closely, it becomes a photo about juxtaposition and contrast.

A horse in the city. A rural cowboy with city technology. It really spoke a lot to me.

I ran into place because I saw the moment coming. Randall looked up for a second and went back to his business. I fired off three frames and the moment was over.

This photo was a stand alone because this was just a find from a photo story of a mom and son duo who are involved in horse cutting.

In the end, I was happy. A simple but complex frame.

THOUGHTS: This photo was taken about three weeks ago.

It was a single assignment.

I knew a day in advance I’d be shooting it so I prepared mentally as I started drawing up ideas in my head. As I was walking my dog Sam in my backyard, where I do most of my thinking, I remembered a poster I saw on the wall of the hair salon in Provo, Utah where I used to get my haircut. It was a poster depicting the great Michael Jordan with all his championship rings on one hand. I’m sorry, I looked and can’t find the photographer who produced the photo, my apologies. But this was kinda the base for of the final concept. Remember, in photography, everything has been done/shot, it’s all about refining what has been done. I decided to do my own spin on it.

When I got to Augusta State University’s Christenberry Field House, one player was ready and the other was still changing from practice. It was good because it gave me the five minutes needed to set up. The Media Relations Director, Joey Warren, is the best I’ve ever worked with. Really bends over backward to help me accomplish anything I want to creatively. The players Caleb and Howard were cool too about showing off their best serious pose. People who want to be photographed always helps.

Obstacle number one: Forgot my light stands. Solution: Manfrotto magic arms. Obstacle two: Dark backdrop. Solution: Joey Warren’s shirt would suffice. Obstacle three: Ball placement. Solution: Again, Mr. Warren would hold the ball.

I kinda work half planned, half improv, moreso because of the nature of newspapers, when I’m shooting. The idea from the MJ poster was the base but it wasn’t ’til I arrived did the ball and the kind of light I wanted to use hit me. Instead of high key like in the poster, I decided on my favorite portrait look, low key. Dark skin produces so much better than light skin when working with hard light so I decided on 10 and 20 degree grid spots. Two heads were pointed at 45 degree angles and the ball would be illuminated by light spill from the key lights. Mr. Warren’s shirt ended up being irrelevant since light fall off was pretty drastic.

This shot was right near the beginning of the shoot. I fired off about 65 frames. This pose was very natural before I started interfering with the posing. About 99.9 percent of the time finding moments, even if a posed situation, end up being the best portraits.

In the end I liked the tones on the B&W edition. Tones reveal the soul in my personal opinion. Not always, but in this case yes.

According to his mother, Terri Craig, the waters were choppy from a storm front and Scott’s friends canceled plans to be with him that day. However, he ventured out alone and presumably, without wearing a life vest, vanished.

His boat and tackle washed ashore hours later.

His body is still missing.

The South Carolina Department of Natural Resources still searches for an hour in the morning and evening, Terri said. Some locals have even donated their time in the search.

A week later, at the visitor’s center, near the site where his boat washed ashore, a vigil was held in honor of his life, to receive answers, offer prayers, express mourning and gain resolve.

Here, friends and family reflect on the life of Scott Craig near the water’s edge after throwing in carnations in his honor Saturday, Jan. 29, 2011 at the J. Strom Thurmond Dam & Lake Visitor’s Center. Close to 200 individuals paid their respects to the life of Scott Craig.

THOUGHTS: *Tangent* A year ago I moved to the south to Augusta, Ga. I took a new job with The Augusta Chronicle. And yes, for a whole friggin’ year I neglected my blog. For that, to all five of you who follow my blog, I’m sorry. Rest assured, as my new year’s resolution, that neglect will be no longer.

Before leaving New England I only posted a few entries before neglecting my beautiful blog, who was modified by the great M. Scott Brauer, by the way. But alas, I’m here. I’m back. I’m sorry for the neglect. I feel like an over-compensating parent trying to curry the favor on a neglected child but I’m back. I’m back. I’m back. I’m back on the blog wagon.

Vigils are never easy. And each one is unique. Fortunately, this one had some cool people who didn’t mind sharing their insight about Scott. I had time on this particular Saturday so I stuck around until dusk.

It was a two hour wait.

My patients paid off.

Despite documenting all the tears, and wanting to tear up a little myself, it’s always reminds me how fragile life is and how we should never take it for granted. I think because, I cover death frequently as a photojournalist, I’m more prepared and know what to expect, heaven forbid, when the worst strikes in my life one day.

At the end I waited for the perfect balance of that beautiful gradient of orange to blue kelvin scale in the sky, coupled with the orange illuminated faces and viola!

Also if you want to see more from this take, there are nine other frames on my sportsshooter.com page.

THOUGHTS: I’ve been really focused on shooting with more emotion as of late (story of my life these past six months). I remember talking to my friend Sol Neelman about how a lot of times people crop too tight ridding themselves of valuable nuggets of information. I know, I know, a lot of sports photography is about peak action. And that old saying, “Tight is right,” normally applies in most sports shooting. However, what if photographers focused more on emotion along with the peak action? I suppose that’s what’s been on my mind.

Quite frankly I’ve been sick of my own work and wanted to move toward something that conveyed movement and emotion and light and…well I suppose I want it all now but know I have to be patient as I grow.

This game was pretty intense and I was looking searching and feeling for something new. I started thinking about incorporating motion and dropped my shutter speed bouncing between 1/6-1/10 of a second. Off to the sides are two B800 Alienbees were bounced off the ceiling. This gym is one of my favorites because it is very small making it relatively easy to light. I saw this foul happen as this Milford player was driving the lane. Promptly after, they crashed into the wall where I was standing, of which I took one step to the left and avoided workman’s compensation.

The results of the mixed light was fine in color but so many rich tones proved to win out my heart in black and white.