Favorite Image of 2011

This is the time of year when I gravitate towards organizing files, reviewing images, and attempting to unearth my office and gear closet. There’s not much else going on and after four years I still haven’t come to terms with Louisville winters. (I’m a winter weenie–I blame it on growing up in North Texas.)

When I look back over last year’s work several images stand out, but if I must choose then I’d say this was my favorite:

"1927 Lighthouse" by Jamie Powell Sheppard

I took this photo on our July trip to Florida, where we were fortunate enough to visit friends who were staying south of Tampa. It was an optimistic move to even bring a camera, much less the full Mamiya 645 rig:  Three lenses, four extra film inserts, two film backs, and assorted filters. (Or perhaps the best word would be “stubborn”.) I knew this trip was slated for relaxation, and carrying the Mamiya pack without a donkey definitely does not fall under that description. Add sand, sun, and my total non-interest in landscape photography and it just didn’t make sense to bring the whole shebang. But I did. (Did I mention I was stubborn?)

I can’t not go on a trip without a camera. Imagine separating Linus from his blanket and you get the idea. I could have taken one of the smaller ones, but I love my medium format Mamiya. It’s my workhorse and I’m unhealthily attached to it. That and I thought Florida would be the perfect place to shoot some of the medium format infrared film I was hoarding in the freezer.

Our friends, also photographers, knew I needed a fix and one day suggested driving us all to Boca Grande on Gasparilla Island. Yay, a shooting day! But I was worried, since the method that works best for me is wandering aimlessly with no real goal in mind, and no time constraints, until I start to notice things I want to photograph. Heading out to a specific destination doesn’t always work–I feel like I’m forcing it. The pressure built as I realized that after driving 25 minutes to our destination we also had to pay a $10 toll to enter the island. Everyone took time out of their heavy schedule of relaxation to humor me, and I wasn’t sure I would produce anything that would justify that.

I photographed an avenue of banyan trees, our main goal:

"Banyan Street" by Jamie Powell Sheppard

But I couldn’t keep my eyes off the dilapidated lighthouse. An avenue lined with banyan trees is definitely cool, but a deteriorating lighthouse is totally my sort of scene. It was so oddly spidery-looking. So our friends parked the car in a local lot and stayed behind to snooze in the comfort of AC while I headed down the tiny two lane road. Even with my wide angle lens I had to stand almost in the road to get the composition I wanted, which meant I couldn’t avoid attracting attention. I didn’t know if local authorities would be okay with me photographing the lighthouse or not–they kept cruising by, eyeing me. Since I could see pieces of the structure lying about I figured it was probably off-limits. I was sweating from nerves and the oppressive warm-wet-blanket-wrapped-about-your-head climate, as the Police drove back and forth, back and forth. My hands kept slipping on the heavy camera. My 80mm lens was awkwardly bulging my capris pocket away from my thigh like an aggressive tumor. My friends and husband (backup) were down the road and out of sight. But I must have only looked witless, and not suspicious, because they left me to do my thing.

I’m glad I was stubborn. And I’m glad I look harmless.