Ladders

Ladders, a photo by meagan.porter on Flickr.

I set out on Monday to get a photo of this construction site on Main Street in Reedsburg. Jeff suggested standing against the dry cleaners with my back to the sun, as it was mid-morning by that time. Good tip.

I am five feet tall exactly, and I've been considering more and more lately getting a small step stool and keeping it in my car, just in case. It would only need to give me another foot or so in height, but there's been at least three times in the last few months where I could have used one. On one of those occasions I actually pulled my car into the spot I wanted and stood on the hood to get the shot. I would have done the same in this situation had I not been on Main Street in a skirt and heels in the middle of a weekday. One more foot or so and I would have been able to shoot over this fence instead of through it.

I've shot through a fence before and it hasn't been a big deal. But in this situation, the straight fence shot gave me too much shadow from the building next to me, and the diagonally-placed fence piece gave me the shot I wanted - except I kept catching the fence through it. I climbed a small cement stoop and was able to shoot over the fence... but through a spindly little tree. I was so frustrated; it was a simple assignment, to take a photo of a construction site, and I was having more trouble than necessary in making it work.

I took the above photo as a joke. My assignment was to, "Get a picture of all the equipment in that big hole" (Jeff). As I looked over the construction site, considering my shot, I noticed the ladders perched against the cement walls of the underground parking garage. It reminded me of movies set in the Middle Ages when people stormed castles and got shot at by burning arrows. I imagined someone storming the construction site, giggled and took my shot.

I took a few other photos once I figured out what I was doing. This turned out to be the one Jeff liked the most but not for the same reasons - he pointed out that there was a nice color contrast between the two red pieces of equipment in the photo, and he pointed out that it wasn't something people can see just driving past. I agreed, and we printed it in this week's Indy as an inside color photo.

My new telephoto lens is scheduled to be delivered today, and I am ridiculously excited. I have a new case sitting on my dining room table just waiting for it. I bought it because there were three or four times in the last couple months or so that I needed one, and looking forward to this summer, I don't want to take Butterfest and Demo Derby photos without one. I also look forward to using it for my personal project. I always swore I would never buy new equipment (editing software included) until I felt like it was holding me back, and the telephoto started to be that way. Maybe a stepladder will be my next purchase.  :)

Curve

Curve, a photo by meagan.porter on Flickr.

Taken on Hwy K in Reedsburg, Wisconsin, May 2011.

I went out a few weeks ago to take pictures of the ongoing construction work on the North Side sewer in Reedsburg. They never made it in the Indy, but I liked the results.

I parked on the corner of 19th Street and K in Reedsburg and walked down K. I realized later that I could have parked much closer and spared myself much of that painful high-heeled walked up and down the highway, but I would have missed some fantastic shots. I loved seeing all of those huge sewer pieces up close, particularly the manhole covers. I felt like a little kid, fascinated by the big machines displacing so, so much earth.

I have never been keen on getting to close to anything while taking pictures for the Indy. I try to reassure myself, saying that my photos come out more from the perspective of a casual observer than an insider, but mostly, I'm just scared. As I took pictures of the worksite from across the street, I thought about getting closer. Images of my untimely death flashed across my brain, "Search called off for reporter who fell into center of Earth." I decided I was just fine across the street, thank you.

Despite my reluctance to get too close, I have always appreciated the access my job gives me. I can only name a handful of times in the last three years that I've been hassled while taking pictures, and usually no one questions me. I had that same feeling on my excursion this day, sauntering through barricades that said, "Roads Closed" thinking, yes, I am supposed to be here.