Sometimes I can't see what I can see.

There's an oft shared exchange between photographers shooting a sporting event.

"Getting any good shots?"

"I don't know until I get home."

"Yeah. I hear ya."

The fact is, even with all the planning, observation, equipment, positioning, adjustments, shutter flaps, monitor peeks, and luck that goes behind shooting an event with hopes and dreams of capturing the perfect shot, way often I get back home, or to the hotel and can't wait to see what I caught. I mean, honestly, it's almost like Christmas morning opening up a present that has a shape I have no clue about what's wrapped inside.

How can this be?

The fact is, those disks are little bundles of surprises.

Some not so good.

How did that light pole end up coming out of the side of her head? Why isn't that horizon line level? Do you think I could figure out how to not get a blurry shot, even when using a tripod? Ooooh. I don't think I'll use a fisheye lens when shooting people at an event again, unless it's about a circus family.

But sometimes, thankfully, those surprises are just . . . wonderful.

Where did those yellows in the ice come from? Cool reflection off that windshield. Look how those shadows lay against that textured surface. I like the pattern from the ceiling beams. Ahh, look how those lights sparkle like stars. The photo for today was taken on the St. Croix River. The springtime breaking up of the ice was so amazing. I loved the different shapes and textures. But to be honest, I never saw all those colors. They were only revealed after uploading the shots to my laptop. I popped up the vibrancy to help make the colors come more alive and thought it turned out way different than what I actually saw.

Writing today's entry compelled me to pull a couple dusty books off the bookshelf, and reminds me of third, Defensible Space by Kevin Lynch, that I think I'll leave up there for now. It's too text heavy and too many flashbacks to Land Use Planning CRP845. I struggled in that class until I finally figured out by mid-term that the class met Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. (I had another class scheduled at that time on Fridays. You're supposed to be smart enough to not have to need guidance counselors in grad school to be sure you're not double-booking classes, right?)

Where was I?

Oh, the first of the two books is How to See, A Guide to Reading our Manmade Environment by George Nelson. I see Amazon's got a copy of it dated Jan 2003. My dusty one is from 1977. I've long appreciated this book as a wonderful prompt of thinking about what to look for when out wandering aimlessly, or even while driving hard to a determined destination. It's a good read and filled with lots of photographs to illustrate design concepts.

The second one is Interaction of Color by Joseph Albers. I'll start by re-review with the text I highlighted in this book. And wow, there's still has the receipt in it as a bookmark; Walker Art Center, July 22, 1983. That was like the first week I moved to Minneapolis. What was I thinking back then?

Seems maybe even back then I was seeing something I didn't know I was seeing. Some of my future.