My life with photography.

[Tom dinning]

Every photo is incidental to the ideas and feeling I want to express.
Thoughts come first, sometimes stimulated by vision, other times by the other senses, more often by internal stimuli.

I can start anywhere. Today is much the same as yesterday or 50 years ago.

There are no mistakes. Some may criticise the technique. The technique I have used is acceptable. It is carried out with the best intentions, the current knowledge, the only camera I have at the time. It is then processed in the same way.

If I sound like a bumbling fool, then that’s what I am. If I appear to know what I’m doing, that’s less likely but still possible.

The joy comes from doing.

THE PICKUP.

 

[Tom dinning]

Few images stand still.
Like the life they had beforehand, they have a life after.
I am able to change each image to suit the new day.
I am guided by my current state of mind.
I’m always satisfied with the results.
Tomorrow will bring with it a new array of ideas.
With that I can let the image move with me.
Yet I can still see those of yesterday.


LIBERTY

 

[Tom dinning]

A single image might, to most, be identified with a single moment.
That is the absoluteness of recording.
The ambiguity comes with time.
The meaning changes.
The memory fade.
The image is seem with new eyes.
We see things not seen before.



THE PHONE BOX

 

[Tom dinning]

Pleasantries become displeasures.
Enjoyment becomes tedious.
I take a photo for its pleasure
Then I move on.
I am disappointed with myself for not staying.
I am here only for the photograph.
Yet it is enough.
How long do I need to linger to value the song of a nightingale?

THE CONVERSATION

 

[James Lemon]

Pleasantries become displeasures.
Enjoyment becomes tedious.
I take a photo for its pleasure
Then I move on.
I am disappointed with myself for not staying.
I am here only for the photograph.
Yet it is enough.
How long do I need to linger to value the song of a nightingale?

THE CONVERSATION
View attachment 1067

As long as you like.

 

[Tom dinning]

As long as you like.

Like ‘how long is a piece of string’, James.

The important thing for me is not to be noticed.
More than incognito.
Invisible, absent, non-existent.
Not disturbing the pond.
The performers must be placed in the photo like dummies in a window.
Seen to be coming from or going to.
A moment of indecision on their part.
Hesitating just long enough for me to frame.


THE CROSSING

 

[Tom dinning]

It might be seen that the image infringes the rule of contact.
Personal space is figuratively invaded.
The photographer is a voyeur.
The subject is ‘captured’, ‘shot’ as it were.
What can possibly happen?
For the subject, the act is complete.
For the photographer, the journey begins.



WOODY

 

[Tom dinning]

The act of photographing becomes an act of defiance.
It’s the hidden things that are most alluring.
Those things that are shielded from my view.
The place that holds secrets.
The places that hold ideals that are contrary
How easy it is to reduce the power of an ideal.
To a simple image on a screen.
There is no ground I hold sacrosanct.
No individual who lives outside the range of visible light.


WAIT

 

[Tom dinning]

Then there are the structures that fall into place.
They follow the laws of nature.
They give way to the progress of time.
They go unnoticed because of their insignificance.
They fall beyond my shadow for a moment
And I fall prey to their clarity, simplicity, virtue.
I am reminded that everything is a consequence of that which preceded.
I have no way of knowing which is important.

SIGNAGE

 

[Tom dinning]

Then again, it might be that I like what I see.
Then the photo is part of my emotion.
It fits neatly into my pocket
I can remind myself there are things I like to look at.


WATERS EDGE

0

 

[Tom dinning]

Photographs are real.
They are metaphors, similes, reflections, representations, descriptions.
There are times when I look into an image I took and I feel something new.
Nothing has changed. The image is as it always was.
I’ll sit in my comfy chair and see the loneliness, desire, futility, panic.
Everything stops. Just a faint glow from the iPad.
For a moment I’m somewhere else.



FUTILITY

 

[Tom dinning]

I am transported back to a better place.
I am once again with friends.
I am accompanied by the smell of my father
The comfort of my mother
The love of a few
Nothing lasts.
I can’t go back
I Just look at the picture.

LUNCH

 

[Tom dinning]

I am being constantly punished by the things I have learned.
I know how to take pictures. Monkeys can do that.
I imitate the monkey and expect better results.
I pass the photo across the table to a friend.
“That’s nice”, she says.
I don’t ask again.
I don’t want it to be nice.
I want her to know what I know,
To understand what I’m doing,
To think like me.
Perish the thought.
It’s best people don’t try.
Just look at the photos.

 

[James Lemon]

Like ‘how long is a piece of string’, James.

The important thing for me is not to be noticed.
More than incognito.
Invisible, absent, non-existent.
Not disturbing the pond.
The performers must be placed in the photo like dummies in a window.
Seen to be coming from or going to.
A moment of indecision on their part.
Hesitating just long enough for me to frame.


THE CROSSING
View attachment 1072

That depends on what you are measuring.

 

[Peter Dexter]

Tom what a superb collection of images and poetry.

 

[Tom dinning]

Tom what a superb collection of images and poetry.

Thanks for dropping by, Peter.
Not taking away from your thoughts and complements but an explanation of sorts.

It seems to be that I spend a lot of time staring at photos, some are my own.
The rest of the time I’m just involved with my normal, mundane life. You know the stuff: housework, eating, doing the will of my wife, Christine.
I’ve realised everything overlaps. Not recently. Always.
I’ve even been described as “the bloke who takes photos” as if I could be identified on a slab in the morgue as such or something to put on my tomb stone.

So, now I’m interested in how that integration has occurred and how photography affects the way I think, my beliefs, my actions.

As for the writing, it’s just note taking, not purposeful poetry.
I often write like this.
Fast, brief, badly.
Sticky notes.
For future reference.
Resulting from a requirement of making notes of my thoughts for clarity and discussion with the psychiatrist/doctor/student/wife/supermarket.

I’m sure there will be more to come.
It’s not really a collection either.
More like the odd socks draw at the bottom of my wardrobe.

Enjoy
Cheers
Tom

 

[Peter Dexter]

Thank you Tom, well it is a collection to my eyes on this forum and I very much enjoy it. When I start thinking hard about a photo I'm reminded that it is a historical record of the world as it was for 1/50th, 1/250th or 1/1000th of a second.

 

[Tom dinning]

9

Thank you Tom, well it is a collection to my eyes on this forum and I very much enjoy it. When I start thinking hard about a photo I'm reminded that it is a historical record of the world as it was for 1/50th, 1/250th or 1/1000th of a second.

I understand that position, Peter.
I wish I could comply some days.
Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, I. Quite the opposite.
When I start considering what I consider a rather detached perspective of photography I go do something else.
That’s why I shoot auto. Thats why I spend so much time with my own images. That’s why I would rather be writing or reading than shoot.

 

[Tom dinning]

There’s a great deal of satisfaction in being in the right place at the right time.
The ‘right’ time is, of course, different for different events and observers.
I find myself being apprehensive.
I’m waiting for the event to pass.
Or wanting to know when so I can shoot just before.
It’s the end of a sentence, so to speak.
The door is closing.
The rain almost stops.
The moment before the lightning strike.
The moment before death.
The moment after.

 

[Tom dinning]

Then there is the place I find myself where I am out of my depth.
The irony is that I will find a photograph in me.
Always, the image comes from within.
That’s where I search.
“Can’t you just take pictures?” I often here from others.
“Can’t you just FO?” I think.
“You take photography too seriously,” I here again.
Is there any other way?

SIENA

 

[Doug Kerr]

Hi, Tom,

What a stunning collection of images and poetry.

You ponder the depths of your own working to a degree rarely seen. And the images are wondrous in their own right, beyond being a set of large sprocket holes to propel your dissertation before our eyes.

Bravo, my friend.

Best regards,

Doug

 

[Tom dinning]

Hi, Tom,

What a stunning collection of images and poetry.

You ponder the depths of your own working to a degree rarely seen. And the images are wondrous in their own right, beyond being a set of large sprocket holes to propel your dissertation before our eyes.

Bravo, my friend.

Best regards,

Doug

Thanks for dropping by, Doug.


I was beginning to wonder if anyone was home.
It’s not always advised to drop in on a madman.
Perhaps you and I understand.
Dissecting the intricacies of a piece of engineering may be similar to what I do.

The insane and obsessive stand on the edge of a precipice.
In the depths they see rewards and demons.
Places where most will not pass.
It is a challenge.
Knowing what it is and what part it plays will save me.
Keep me calm.
Keep me from stepping back; or forward too far.

I’m still searching.
For facts.
Not truth.

Perhaps it’s around the next corner.

 

[Asher Kelman]

9

I understand that position, Peter.
I wish I could comply some days.
Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, I. Quite the opposite.
When I start considering what I consider a rather detached perspective of photography I go do something else.
That’s why I shoot auto. Thats why I spend so much time with my own images. That’s why I would rather be writing or reading than shoot.

Tom,

Can you explain this?

Asher

 

[Asher Kelman]

​

Succinct and impressive!

Tom,

What filter did you use?

Would you be open to sharing the “out of camera” picture so I can learn and understand better?

Thanks,

Asher

 

[Tom dinning]

Tom,

Can you explain this?

Asher

It’s a long story and quite personal.

My daughter recognised it in me many years ago.

It seems as soon as I reach some level of technical expertise in a pastime, hobby or profession I walk away from it.
She says it takes about 8 years for me to get through the cycle.

Her observations are supported by my own.

I know as much as the next bloke about the mechanics of photography, the workings os a camera, the behaviour of light, the nature of exposure, the ideas behind composition. I might even know a bit more than some.

But that’s not what I’m interested in. In fact I find it interfering with my thoughts about what I want.

When I retired I continued to teach photography. It was the usual stuff, guided by a curriculum, attended by the usual, enthusiastic subjects, monitored by the same stayed supervisors.
Then I realised I had reached the point that what I do can’t be taught. It’s an ideal. How do I teach a personal ideal?
I’m a good teacher but not that good.
Within a week of realising this I handed the class over to a young enthusiastic ex-student who had become quite the proficient photographer.
Then I sold all my gear, went as simple as I could, set the camera on auto and went on my way.
Some will insist that I have all that knowledge and will still subconsciously use it.
I agree.
For those who are familiar with the concept of Zen they will understand.

My father gave me the basis for understanding.
“Tommy, to be good [at anything] you must first become a good human being”.

I’m working on it. OK?

 

[Tom dinning]

Succinct and impressive!

Tom,

What filter did you use?

Would you be open to sharing the “out of camera” picture so I can learn and understand better?

Thanks,

Asher

Sorry. I missed this. I’ve been busy with other matters.

Currently, I’m using ACR as the prime editor and PS as the support system so I can stack some layers when I need to.

I don’t have the original on my iPad and I’m not getting up from my comfy chair for anyone.

Basically, if I can remember, I cross process the colour image, remove the yellow colouring that results.
Soften the image using the texture and clarity slider.
Move to PS.
Convert to B&W and reduce to 50%

There’s a hell of. Lot more going on inside my head but that’s not fit for printing.
No two images will turn out the same, namely because I’m always trying new things.

I’ll see if I can find the original if I ever get up.

Xx

create a layer in PS.

 

[Asher Kelman]

Tom,

Very generous of you to share your techniques. Seems very clever to me and I have never heard of that path before!

Something for me to play with and force this old brain to learn more and stave off the grim reaper!

?

Asher

 

[Tom dinning]

I saw an image somewhere that had a severe impact on my approach when I was younger.
No, I’m not talking Marilyn Monroe in Playboy, although I’m sure that image has stuck.

It was inside a church or citadel I think.
The usual thing.
Big ceilings, wondrous light, deep shadows.
You know the stuff.
As my eyes flickered across the image I noticed a small, insignificant figure in one corner.
A man crouched in the shadows, wearing a cape and hood.
He was barely visible yet the visual impact was profound.
Once I had discovered the figure it was difficult not to be drawn to his presence.
Like someone I know in a crowd.
Or a speck on the ceiling.
Or a big nose.

It’s a trick. I know that.
And I find myself using this often.

 

[Tom dinning]

Tom,

Very generous of you to share your techniques. Seems very clever to me and I have never heard of that path before!

Something for me to play with and force this old brain to learn more and stave off the grim reaper!

?

Asher

It’s not the brain I’m concerned with. It’s the support system for it that’s giving away.
Perhaps I’ll be reduced to a brain on a plate.

Ash! That’s not a praying gesture you’re offering, is it.
A wave is sufficient.

Xx

 

[Tom dinning]

I walk through the geometry
Of streets and structures
Shadowed by strangers
Guided by the golden glow.
Puzzles presented in patterns
My eyes squint against the forms
Something moves towards me
The hair on my neck bristles
With anticipation, fear,
A fondness for the forgotten place
Says the dark figure without a face.