Many American cities, especially in the Rust Belt, have decaying structures – relics of a bygone era. They serve as reminders of better times for those cities, the businesses that once thrived and the people they supported. In the case of Buffalo, the glory days were identified with mammoth grain elevators that reigned supreme on the Lake Erie waterfront near downtown. That is until the St. Lawrence Seaway opened in 1959 and the need for them ceased to exist.

Built in the 19^th and early 20^th centuries, they enabled Buffalo as the western terminus of the Erie Canal to become a distribution gateway for the Midwest’s bountiful supply of grain to the East Coast and Europe. The grain elevators helped Buffalo to become an economic success story that begat manufacturing and even more jobs. But in an instant it was over. The fortunes of the city changed and the decline began.

Today these once proud structures still stand like silent sentinels, unoccupied and alone … but still proud. They almost have a spiritual quality about them. While there is talk about their revitalization, that really hasn’t happened, short of some isolated efforts. This is a familiar problem facing many towns and cities across this country.

What needs to be done is to capture the beauty and honor of these great artifacts before they end up being torn down or “revitalized” into hotels, office buildings … or God help us … outlet centers.

I was aware of the elevators when I was growing up, but never really witnessed or cared about them. And I never thought about seeing them during the many times I had been back to visit after I graduated from college and moved away. I suspect this isn’t an atypical situation for many of us.

Now I want to see them and other monuments I neglected, but I will likely only come back here for visits to the cemetery to spend time with loved ones or attend the occasional high school reunion.

One of my favorite photographers is David Plowden, who describes himself as “an archeologist with a camera”, spending his life “one step ahead of the wrecking ball” to capture poignant images of the American landscape and historic American structures before they’re gone. All of his books are wonderful; I own several and have been fortunate enough to have met him at an opening of one of his many traveling exhibits.

Please think about the opportunities that exist to capture the power and beauty of these artifacts of a different … and perhaps better time. You may be rewarded beyond the images you make!

Now that we are dealing with a hospice situation I am finding I don’t have a lot of spare personal time. It seems I will be in Buffalo with my wife for a while, with a couple of days each week for me back in Doylestown so I can teach and do some necessities. That means most new photography will have to be done here … during small windows of opportunity.

I guess if you have read my last two entries, this is starting to sound like a travelogue. Hopefully you will keep reading and this will be somewhat of value. The point is that I have to be opportunistic … either for photographic prospects that won’t require too much time to try to exploit, going back to a location several times for a limited time if necessary, or having my camera nearby at the ready when I see something interesting or something happening.

That’s what happened the other night when I was going out to pick up some take out for dinner. It was nearing dusk and the snow had started to come down … the fluffy stuff that’s really nice that’s great to ski on or make snowmen with. Behind the building was a pond that had yet to freeze. The ducks were floating on the water, and the streetlight was lit. It reminded me of Paris. Not a bad thing to think about when things are not going the way you would like them to.

Needless to say, I ran back into the building, climbed the stairs and grabbed my camera bag. Photo Tip: It’s a good idea to have your camera loaded so you can move into action quickly. As the Roman philosopher Seneca said, “Luck is what happens when preparation meets opportunity.” Well, guess what, that advice has stood the test of time!

Time was of the essence as it would be dark soon and I would not be able to see the ducks that were now paddling away! I pulled out my spot meter, took a reading of the bright streetlight and opened up three stops beyond what the meter told me was the correct exposure (In an upcoming entry I will discuss a simplified version of the Zone System that can even be used for 35mm and roll film users).

I made five or six exposures with from a couple of different positions as the snow began to fall harder. Plus-X film at 1/30^th of a second, opened to f/5.6 and a click. Maybe I’ll get a keeper! Or maybe it will just be a bust. While I hope for the former, it doesn’t matter to me that much. What really matters is had I not made the effort I would never know the result, let alone have the opportunity to make a wonderful print – and that would truly bother me!

Making the effort is so much better than getting into the car because it’s snowing hard and it’s just too much of a bother to run back upstairs to get the camera!

Many would do that, or wouldn’t be prepared for the opportunity if it presented itself. Don’t be one of them. You will be much happier!

My wife and I have been traveling back and forth to upstate New York where her elderly parents live in order to make sure everything is alright, or to be there when one of them is sick or in the hospital. Like many their age they wish to remain at home, whether it’s the best idea or not. We were there two weeks ago and had just got back into the swing of things back home when we learned my wife’s father was in the hospital again.

We’ve been here for almost a week now, and when we will be leaving is pretty much an open-ended situation. Once you get finished taking care of all the things that need to be fixed, talking to caregivers and the VA, and making sure his car still runs because it hasn’t been started in over a month, there really isn’t much left to do other that go back and forth to the hospital several times a day and say some encouraging things at random moments.

Watching him in his weakened state and having a good idea what the likely prognosis is put me in a bit of a funk, causing me to wonder what I could possibly write about. I mentioned this to my wife. As we boarded the hospital elevator to go to the lobby she wisely suggested the idea of how precious time is.

By the time the doors opened I knew what I wanted to say. I began to thank about how this issue had actually been bothering me since we got here but because of everything happening I had tried to push it out of my mind … I couldn’t.

Watching him, I knew … and he knew … that there wasn’t a huge amount of time left. Despite a life lived, what could have been done, now could not be. How much of that life was wasted in terms of accomplishing the things that really mattered? Of course I immediately thought about myself.

I’ve wasted a lot of time in my life when I could have been more productive. It’s not hard for me to admit it. The reasons are many, some reasonable, many foolish, but in any case, far too many to bore you with. Now I’m 62 and it both saddens and scares me. Not so much because of the time squandered and the lost opportunities, but because I realize now that there is less time left. Maybe you have thought about this too. If not, perhaps you should … no matter how old or young you are.

I thought about my photography students at the Center for Learning in Retirement. Some are in they’re Eighties. They’re active and don’t want to waste any of their time. They want to explore the world around them and capture that which excites them. Their objectives range from keeping a visual diary to creating meaningful art. It doesn’t matter. They’re wise and have discovered that every personally meaningful moment is important … and yes … precious.

Our precious photographic time should not be squandered. Forget about the time you have already wasted. It’s gone. What’s left is all the time you have. Don’t waste it. Use it with purpose. It’s precious.

I wasn’t really looking forward to this past Friday. It was my last class of my first semester of teaching at Delaware Valley University’s Center for Living in Retirement (CLR). As previously mentioned, they foolishly asked me if I would like to teach a photography class based on an early entry I posted here called Living a Photographic Life. 

I had never taught in a formal class setting before so I was a little nervous. A nice amount of students had signed up, but what if no one returned after attending the first class?  Well I was pleasantly surprised that they kept on coming!

The challenge was to teach a course to a diverse range of retired students that had no interests in film photography, let along darkroom work. Most used cell phones or point and shoot cameras with little experience outside of taking family or vacation snapshots. A couple had more sophisticated DSLRs. All were color shooters.

I had a two-track approach and dual objective. Show them the many ways they could “keep there heads in the game” when there was no time to make photographs, and get them to produce a ten photograph portfolio with an accompanied written essay that they would present to the class. Throughout the semester they had a variety of assignments, such as loaning out monographs from the library and making photographs for discussion and constructive critique. We also had a few field trips, including one to my home for a darkroom printing demonstration (sorry, but I couldn’t help myself!). I tried to open their minds to new ways to thinking about the unlimited range of opportunities available to them. In the end they learned about a wide range of interesting and educational activities that would keep them interested in photography and they created a meaningful body of printed work to hold in their hands and be proud of displaying.

So how did it turn out? Great! They worked hard and put a lot of thought into their portfolios. It didn’t matter that they were printed at Costco. And their essays helped them to crystalize their ideas and focus on what their efforts meant to them. Most had rarely printed their work. And one had never printed his personal photographs before, but proudly displayed his work to the class. A few put together hand made books containing their photographs. Several included black and white photos and one produced a very fine portfolio composed entirely of black and white prints!!!

For me it was incredibly gratifying to see their interest in photography grow, their fears subside and their skills improve over twelve weeks.

Yet when all was said and done I realized I received so much more than I gave.

I have a serious problem. My wife is a wonderful cook! You would think that after almost 40 years of marriage I would know better, but I never learn. Everything is made from scratch; right down to the three pies she made this year. Usually there are four pies, but we weren’t able to find any rhubarb to make the strawberry rhubarb. Won’t make that mistake next year … get the rhubarb this coming summer and freeze it. Then we will be set in November.

I was saying I never learn. The problem is with all that great food … the stuffing is my favorite … I have to try everything … usually several times. It happens every year. My son-in-law’s mother asked how I stay so thin; being married to my lovely wife, the wonderful cook. 30 miles of serious walking per week and good genes I guess.

So I made a toast like I always do after we sit down to eat. This time it was a little longer than normal. I wanted to speak about being thankful on several levels. I ended with the thought that while there are many problems we face I don’t want to think in terms of problems anymore. Rather I wish to think about solutions.

So what does this have to do with photography in general and black and white film photography and darkroom work in particular? After everyone left I started to think about that as I was drying the dishes.

First of all, I am thankful to live in America and enjoy the freedom I have. I do my best to try not to take that for granted and I think about it on Thanksgiving. On another level, I am grateful for the life I have had thus far. I’ve lived it on my own terms and hope to be able to continue to do so. I’ve had a nice professional career and yet I’ve made the time for a creative outlet that is just as important to me and has given me so much enjoyment. Drilling down another level, I am also thankful that the tools I get so much pleasure from. They are still available and in some cases better than ever, despite all things digital.

But back to the issue of problems and solutions … focusing on our individual lives, it seems most people are not all that happy. Anxiety, stress, frustration of one kind or another seems to be a constant. I think we can find a lot of this when it comes to our photography. Think about it. I never have time. I don’t have the right camera(s). I don’t have the right lens(s). I ran out of film. I ran out of paper. I ran out of chemicals. I’m too tired. I can’t come up with a new idea. I can’t get motivated.

These are all problems. Don’t worry, I know about most of them. Now it’s time to forget about them!  Just stop thinking about them as the cause of your inactivity. Rather, start thinking about solutions!

Get out a legal pad (for those that still enjoy the pleasure of writing on paper) and start making a plan … what are the steps necessary to go forward in your photographic life — from the tactical to the strategic. Buy film. Buy chemicals. Buy paper. Take advantage of the strengths of the equipment you own.  But if your gear is not right for the work you want to do then get rid of it and buy the right tool(s) for the job. Plan a project or two. Independent of the project(s), start taking pictures because it is what you should be doing if you are a photographer. Develop your film, make your proof sheet and print the keepers.

That’s a pretty good list for starters. Now go do it.

That’s a solution!