9 Aug 2010

Summer raindrops – precious jewels

Everywhere water is a thing of beauty gleaming in the dewdrop, singing in the summer rain. – John Ballantine Gough.

We just had a weekend away in the English Lake District, to try and get some fresh air, time under trees and some walking done. The weather forecast didn’t look very promising and after several weeks of very poor summer weather, we were resigned to donning waterproofs and just getting out there and making the best of it. As it happens, it didn’t turn out that badly and we only got damp.

To quote Billy Connolly, “there’s no such thing as bad weather, just the wrong clothing. So get yourself a sexy raincoat and live a little”. For many years I was a fair-weather walker – if truth be told, I didn’t really like walking that much, in any weather. I just didn’t enjoy the process and how it made me felt. I was perpetually struggling to keep up with my significantly fitter husband and unfit enough myself to make it uncomfortable, combined with joint problems that simply made it painful.

Please click on any of the photographs for a larger view.

But I’ve recently had to embrace a more active way of life, in a deal I struck with the medical professionals that manage my diabetes. I was on medication that made me thoroughly miserable, but it was a necessary evil for my well being and future prospects. I finally mutinied at the end of 2009 and said I would have to look at alternative methods to manage my health, I didn’t feel there was much point in living longer if I was totally miserable, and largely housebound, in the process.

So I was prescribed some initial gym sessions and told that if I’d get fitter, lose a whole chunk of weight, I might be able to manage it better under my own steam without the medication – they’d give me 6 months to achieve that – but it would need work. I was going to trade pharmacological control for personal effort.

The sky above Thirlmere looked incredibly ominous and it was very dark, but thankfully the rain was light and gentle and nowhere near as bad as we anticipated.

So as 2010 has progressed, I’ve stuck religiously with the regular gym sessions, taking out membership once my initial prescribed sessions expired. I’ve recently been given a revised regime, as I’d simply progressed beyond the original plans. I’m just about on target for my weight loss plan for the year and am significantly fitter than I was as the New Year started.

So now walking isn’t a chore and I really don’t care about the weather any more. What’s the worst that will happen – I’ll get soaked, need to wash my hair and require a change of clothes? I feel significantly better than I did on the medication and know that my health has simply improved for the efforts I’ve so far made and my improved fitness. It was a win-win trade I made. They thought so too, they’ve allowed me to stick with this plan.

One of the factors that significantly helped me, was deciding to try walking with a pole – my joint problems and a recent back injury meant I was always a little nervous and tended to guard myself as I walked, meaning that I never truly relaxed when walking on uneven ground, or got up a decent pace and was reluctant to try more challenging paths. I had the idea that being a tad clumsy already, adding a pole into the mix, along with the camera I always carry was just going to be asking for trouble, I would either end up covered in bruises, or more likely, my walking partner would. Or else I’d trip one or both of us up with it and end up with it confiscated on the grounds of safety.

But it simply didn’t prove to be the case. I took to using it much more easily than I expected and now wouldn’t set off without it. I’ve taken on steep paths that would have felt insurmountable a year ago and I can now walk faster and with much greater confidence than I ever have before. Such a simple change has been responsible for a massive improvement in both what I’ve actually achieved, but my willingness to even try. And yes, husband of mine, I can hear you crowing “I told you so”.

I love gawping into woodland – I cannot conceive of life without being surrounded by trees. Much of the woodland around Thirlmere is managed forest as a timber crop – and it never ceases to amaze me how quickly the land is re-colonised by young trees after an area has been cleared and you see new trees living alongside established ones. There’s a little waterfall running through this scene that I’d not noticed before.

Thirlmere is a reservoir owned by United Utilities and the public are granted permission to access the land. The large lake was originally created from two smaller ones adjacent to two villages, Armboth and Wythburn, which were flooded late in the 19th century to provide water to Manchester. Consequently, there is still evidence of rural life in the area and you can see stretches of dry stone wall and sometimes a lone gatepost amongst the dense woodland.

So come Saturday morning, we were determined to walk along Thirlmere, one of our very favourite spots and donned waterproofs and set off under the trees. The rain was light and gentle and the air very still, so whilst it felt very damp and humid, it was pleasant enough to walk in. The light texture of the rain seemed to cling on everything and all the small plants seemed to be bejewelled with the tiny raindrops. Heavier rain simply bounces off, but these tiny fine droplets clung to the hairs of fine grass seeds and mosses like diamonds. It was very certainly worth damp hair to see them. Unfortunately, due to very low light, they’re not as sharp as I’d hoped, but you get the idea.

6 Aug 2010

The camera you don’t leave at home is the best one

The camera makes you forget you’re there. It’s not like you are hiding but you forget, you are just looking so much. Annie Leibovitz

One should really use the camera as though tomorrow you’d be stricken blind. Dorothea Lange

I’ve had several conversations recently about the various attributes of camera models and the individual criteria for choosing a new one etc. and where the concept that the camera with you is worth a thousand times more than the one you’ve left at home, has cropped up.

There’s little point in buying some mutts’ nuts camera model if it’s so large that you’re reluctant to carry it or find it tedious to use, or needs too much thought to be spontaneous. Much better to have something you’ll enjoy keeping with you and will use readily and enjoy doing so.

Over the years I’ve accumulated several cameras which fulfill different functions – and the trick is to use the right tool for the job. There are some occasions where only my DSLR, appropriately set up and with the right lens, can secure a shot – where only a DSLR has the right functionality – perhaps needing the speed of reaction time to capture something fleeting, or it’s low light abilities. Both of the photographs below would have been difficult with something less.

Please click any of the photographs for a larger view.

I blogged last month about these swallows feeding their young and how incredibly fast the whole process was.

The Annie Leibovitz quote above especially resonated with me in respect of live music photography – when I’m working in the pit, the world around me vanishes and I’m totally in the zone. There are few things I get the same buzz from. I worked as an official photographer at the Isle of Wight festival in 2005 when REM headlined – one of the very best days of my life.

But the camera that I perhaps take most photographs on is what I think of as my middle camera – it has some of the reach and functionality of my DSLR in regard of focal length options, from its 380mm equivalent maximum focal length at 10x zoom to the 25mm (1″) minimum focus distance of its super-macro mode – a focal range now becoming more commonplace in many inexpensive compact cameras. So as a camera to stick in my rucksack, it’s the lightest option giving the widest range of features.

It’s also the one I use for my jewellery photographs as the small sensor gives me a greater depth of field for the available light I have and the minimum focus distances in macro and super-macro mode allow me to work close to the subject in the confined space I have available.

During a walk one spring evening, we came out of an area of deep shadow under trees and saw these lovely shafts of evening sunshine through the trees and over the bluebells.

But there are some days when that’s even too bulky to carry – the days when I go out for my lunchtime walk and just want to pop something in my coat pocket. So I have a compact camera too – it has limited zoom range at 3x, but excellent low light capability, so it makes a great social camera and just lives in my handbag. It too has served me well for several years. I was even able to take some street photos of a mugging that the Police put into evidence.

We were parking up outside a restaurant to meet with family and this scene adjacent in the evening light made me glad I’d put my little camera in my bag.

But pondering this concept of choosing a camera that you will always keep with you, set me thinking about the various photographs over the years that I’ve just snatched when an opportunity arose and I was glad I had popped a camera in my pocket, or had it in my handbag as we went out shopping.

All of these photographs were such opportune images, just moments that make you chuckle and you were glad you were able to record, if only because no one would have believed you otherwise.

This was an especially surreal moment, we were travelling over Kirkstone Pass in the English Lake District and I did a double take, I got the most fleeting of glances of the Tardis in a gap in the dry stone wall. I made my husband reverse back to try and see it again, he clearly thought I was bonkers. And there it was on the moor. It was actually a smaller model and two men with camera gear and tripods were either filming it or photographing it, but I was very glad I had my small camera in my handbag. Who on earth would have believed me.

You might need to click for the larger image to read the writing. I guffawed loudly when I saw this – I know what they meant, but it was still funny – had the staff been sampling the wares? I was trying to very discreetly take the photograph without being seen by staff, but an elderly couple wanted to know what I was doing and just didn’t get it at all and went off loudly discussing about how odd I was taking photographs of cat food. By the following week the sign has been replaced with a printed one ‘excluding’ that particular variety. Shame.

This scene in Kendal has always made us chuckle – everything you could possibly need for a wet afternoon’s entertainment in one place. Go and buy a monkey at Cheeky Monkey’s, get it drunk at Dickie Doodles then take it to get tattooed. If he’s enraged by his treatment, he can then visit his MP to complain.

How small are the people who live here – and not much of a view.

This black and white image still makes my tummy do funny things. My husband was critically ill in November 2005 and spent a couple of weeks on a life support machine, literally fighting for his life. During that time, they’d had to cut his wedding ring off. When we’d married we each put our rings on during the ceremony and neither of us had ever taken them off since – mine still hasn’t been off my finger since 1982. With a solid then 23 years of marriage under our belts, we were superstitious about such things and the removal of his ring was quite emotionally significant for both of us – it upset our son too, as he fully comprehended its symbolic relevance.

It was a long time after he returned home and was recuperating that we felt like addressing it. I knew if I left it some time, an idea of how to deal with it would present itself and so it came to me one day in the shower – to bridge the gap in the ring where it was cut off (or rather chewed off and left in a terrible mess) with something even stronger, to make the bond again but even stronger than before. This was going to need a diamond in the gap. So the jeweller that made my engagement ring was visited with the idea and she did an amazing job of sourcing a diamond to match mine and used the same style of setting.

I took that photograph late in the evening of the day we collected it, hence it’s all shiny and new looking after its restoration. He was just absent-mindedly watching TV after dinner, with his hand at rest and I liked the way the low level of the side light was catching it, so I reached gently into my handbag for my little camera – I didn’t want him to see what I was doing as he’d move and the moment would simply be gone.

So photographs like these are as much about the moment and the memory as they are the image itself – the quality doesn’t matter so much, although I love how this came out after I’d worked the monochrome version. But it’s the emotion it evokes that matters and almost 5 years on, my stomach still does a somersault when I see it.

1 Aug 2010

Aren’t hoverflies brilliant!

And daisies are too!

And oft alone in nooks remote
We meet thee, like a pleasant thought
When such are wanted.

William Wordsworth: To the Daisy. 1807.

Flowers seem intended for the solace of ordinary humanity.   John Ruskin

I love daisies. If pressed, I might even declare them my overall favourite flowers. But they’d have a tough fight for that title, along with the likes of snowdrops and daffodils. I even love dandelions, when properly looked at, they’re quite fabulous.

But the sheer simplicity of a daisy makes it near perfect – its cheerful brightness is often all you need in a flower – something Mr Wordsworth obviously grasped. Yet it isn’t actually simple at all. It just lets you think that it is. The structure, when examined, is quite a magnificent piece of natural engineering.

Please click on the photographs for a larger view, the photos tend to look rather dark here on the page.

The white so called petals, aren’t actually petals at all, but white bracts – the flower(s) is actually the cluster of tiny yellow florets at the centre – rotating from the centre in a complex, tightly packed, geometric spiral.

So I always have daisies of some variety in the garden – I love big pots of them. This year I have one huge tub at the end of the table and despite horrendous weather for the last month or so, has had a continuous fabulous show of cheering flowers.

I went out today to do some work between showers and the garden was full of hoverflies today – lots of them busying away around the various flowers – they seem especially drawn to both lobelia and my daisies – and they do look so fabulously colour co-ordinated against the daisies, so I grabbed my camera.

I just used my compact camera as it was to hand, I’d really like to do some more with the big guns – the compact is way too slow to react to catch them taking off and landing which I was hoping to catch.

Despite a shutter speed of 1/1000 second, the wings of this hoverfly are a barely visible blur.

There are something like 6000 species of hoverflies globally, with around 300 species in Britain and I spotted at least 6 distinctly different ones today on the same plant – although all the best photos I got seemed to be of the same species, so they must move slower than the others.

I love hoverflies, they’re docile and fascinating to watch and just don’t bother with you. Quietly going about their business and despite their dangerous looking colouring which mimics wasps and the like, they’re totally harmless to humans.

If you watch one hovering quietly and gently put your finger underneath, they’ll often lower their undercarriage and rest for a moment on your finger. When they realise you’re not a source of food, they just raise their legs again and take off.

More photos with a DSLR:

I went out into the garden again when the light had supposedly improved. By the time I’d attached lenses and established focus, using extension tubes, the light was worse than ever. The hoverflies had now seemingly exhausted the food from the daisies and most were working other areas of the garden.

I managed a few shots before I decided that the exposures I was securing weren’t worth persisting with. These were all taken at 1600ISO and some with shutter speeds slower than 1/100 second. Just as well that they don’t move that fast when eating.

I hadn’t noticed their metallic jackets before.
If I had wings, I’d like them to be delicate and iridescent like these.

29 Jul 2010

Ribbon rosebuds – free tutorial

I apologise for the length of time this has taken to post after my earlier blog about using vintage ribbon to make little roses for my jewellery packaging, but as I’m sure you will see, it takes a lot of work to put together, between other work. I also apologise that it is image-heavy and lengthy – but it seemed to be the easiest way to ensure that it was clear to follow – but if you find any difficulty in making sense of the instructions, please do let me know. I am sure to return to it to tweak it a little (and it needs a final proof read too), there are certainly a couple of the photographs I intend to replace to make them a little clearer.

Please click on any of the photographs and diagrams for a larger view.
I use my ribbon roses to decorate my jewellery packaging to customers, on my hand made envelopes – a tutorial for which can be downloaded from the bottom of the page of an earlier blog.

Some initial observations:

I’ve seen this method and variants of it on various blogs and how-to sites, so I have no idea who would own the rights on such a thing – if anyone – so I apologise if I’m stepping on anyone’s toes. I suspect that because many of them seemed to start the same way – and it didn’t work well – they may all have learnt it from the same sources.

The tutorial below is therefore my own interpretation of several other tutorials I’d read and then gradually modified to suit my own needs and give more reliable results for my own requirements. So this is very much my own personal workflow, worked out to make a particular result, so you’re sure to adapt it yourself to suit your own needs.

My personal criteria when working the first roses, was to make something with a short flexible stem, just long enough to allow it to be tied into ribbon as an extra decoration on my jewellery packaging. If you want the stems longer or more rigid, you’ll need to fix a length of wire to the rosebud before the final wrap of green florists’ tape.

My own requirement was to fix it with ribbon by a short flexible stem to my gift packaging.

After I made the first few roses, it was clear that the initial methodology gave variable results. Some were very nicely shaped, with petals spiralling from a tight central core, just as a real rose would, where others were rather untidy knot like structures – rather more free-form rose shapes. They worked well enough, but I liked the spiral pattern better. I needed to ascertain why some worked better than others and the start of the tutorial is a result of that deliberation. It’s simple enough after the initial stages, but the starting 2 folds seem to be the pertinent ones – hence also including diagrams to hopefully make it as clear as possible.

You’ll need ribbon, florists tape and fine wire for securing – cut to length and kept within reach before you start.

What you need:

Ribbon – at least 12mm (½”) in diameter

The roses shown in my photographs were all made with a length of ribbon very approximately 12 times as long as it is wide. So if your ribbon is 25mm (1″) wide, you’ll use a piece approximately 300mm (12″) long for each finished rose – but you’ll need a piece twice this length initially to form the rose, more below. The longer the ribbon you use, the fuller the resulting bloom will be.

The small pink rosebuds on the packaging were made with 15mm (0.6″) wide ribbon, the larger satin ones for the tutorial were made with 25mm (1″) ribbon.

Wire, to secure ~ and maybe some for stems:

I used fine wire to wrap the ribbon tightly to secure it when made – florists’ wire or very fine craft wire. My florist’s wire ran out after I’d made a few, so I switched to 0.4mm (26ga) copper wire which worked well. It needs to be fine and flexible and you’ll use about 75mm (3″) per flower.

If you want to add longer stems, you’ll need some lengths of something heavier and stiffer.

Green florist’s tape:

In the past I’ve used a thin tacky plasticy tape, rather like a heavier coloured version of plumbers’ PTFE tape, which when wrapped on top of itself will stick rather like clingfilm, back on itself and is soft enough to press into shape and mould around the structure. The one I used in the photographs was a heavier tape, with a crepe like texture which allowed it to stretch and it seemed waxy, allowing it to be pressed against itself, although it sometimes needed a little coaxing and seemed to work better when worked a little with warm fingers. When cooled again it appeared to stiffen up again and remained fixed.

The advantage of the more papery texture of it allowed me to extend it above the bloom as I started the wrap, making a little stylistic calyx type leaf around the flower.

You’ll also need scissors and wire cutters.

The tutorial:

Most rosebud tutorials using this methodology recommend that you start with a particular cut length of ribbon. But the technique requires that you need half of the ribbon for making the shape, but once formed, it’s cut off, surplus to requirements – discarding over 40% of your starting piece each time – too small to make another rose. I thought this was pointlessly wasteful, so I’ve worked from one end of my length of ribbon, only cutting it once the rose was formed and I was happy with it. So if you’re going to work this way, unravel a little spare before starting to give you room to manoeuvre.

After some trial and error, I felt that the roses are their optimal prettiness when kept a little smaller, with fewer petals. The longer the length of ribbon you use, the fuller the rose becomes, with more rounds of petals. They don’t fill out and get larger and wider as a rose would in reality, they just stack up taller – so once you have 2 full rounds of ‘petals’ it doesn’t seem to look any more attractive to make it any larger, but experiment to see what you like.

All of the roses illustrated have been made to approximately the same proportions with roughly the same quantity of petals. The length of ribbon used is simply proportionate to the width – a length of around ten times the width seems to give a nice full, just opening, rosebud.

Tip: Before you start, have to hand a short piece of your craft or florists wire, ready to secure the rosebud. At the point you need it, one of your hands will be occupied holding the rose together, so you won’t easily be able to cut a piece, so prepare it ready and put it within reach.

Approximately measure your ten times width along the ribbon length, from the cut end and hold the ribbon vertically in front of you (cut end at the top) and fold up the bottom half (joined to the spool or at least the rest of the ribbon) and to the right to make an L shape at your measured point. See Fig. 1 above. If your ribbon has a clear right and wrong side, hold the wrong side towards you – although ultimately is doesn’t make much difference as you’ll see both sides in the finished rosebud.

At this point you will have an angled fold at 45 degrees on the outside of the corner and an internal right angle. You then need to make another fold upwards to give yourself another right angle corner on the outside too. So fold the horizontal length of ribbon upwards – so that surface A meets surface B as in Fig. 1 and your result should now look like the shape in Fig. 2.

You now have a proper clean L shape with a little triangle of ribbon as the uppermost layer. From now all your folds are straight along the length of the ribbon – either top to bottom – or left to right.

Fold the cut length of the ribbon down vertically from top to bottom over the triangle of ribbon – as indicated by the red arrow and at the dotted line in fig.2. Your next fold is to bring the spool end of the ribbon over the top of it, from right to left, see fig. 3 below.
You now continue to concertina the two ends of the ribbon back and forth over each other at 90 degrees, until almost all of the ribbon at your cut end has been used. So first fold is top > bottom, second fold right > Left, then back to the first end, now bottom > top and back to the spool end from left > right – and repeat!

Fold the two ends of the ribbon back and forth over each other – one goes vertically, the other horizontally.

I finish when I have a little tail left of the cut end, projecting beyond the square folds, as this gives you a little tab to hold onto and will be useful later for something else. Make one last fold of the spool end of your ribbon to be the last in the pile. You should have a Christmas garland style concertina of folded ribbon beneath your thumb. It isn’t necessary to keep hold of this folded length, as such, as it holds its shape anyway.


You now need to flip the pile of folded ribbon over and insert your thumb on top of the tail of your cut end of ribbon and just keep hold of this with the last layer of the spool end of ribbon held secure against your forefinger behind it. Keeping the ribbon in the same position, release your grip just enough to pull gently on the spool end of the ribbon at the bottom and pull it out of the folded pile, keeping everything in position between your fingers, forcing the rest of the ribbon ‘garland’ you folded, to contract and bunch up – this is what makes your rose.

You’re almost there, you can see the central triangular first folds you made starting to spiral at the centre. It’s the bias of the ribbon threads where you made the angled fold that makes that nice swirl.
 

As you have pulled almost all of it through – nice and steadily, don’t yank it – you’ll see the little triangle fold you started with form into a little spiral at the centre of the rosebud. Once you see this, your rose is formed and you can stop pulling. Pretty much all of the spool side of the ribbon, from those first central folds, has now been pulled through, your rose is formed predominantly from the ribbon between those first folds and the cut end. So you can see how it would be wasteful to cut a length initially to work with.

At this point, if you’re not happy with the look of your bloom, simply shake it loose and start over.


After a little trial and error, I decided that the little tail you have left – about once or twice the width of the ribbon – from your initial cut end of the ribbon – can be wound around the spool end of the ribbon, coming from the centre of the rose, to neaten it underneath and form a rudimentary stem – just look at the last fold as it leaves the back of the rosebud and ensure that you have one complete petal before winding it round, hence leaving enough spare to tinker with.

Wrap this short tail around the spool end length of the ribbon hanging out from the centre of the rose and then wrap tightly around this with your florists wire – see now why I advised you to have it ready! This neatens away your cut end and gives a little fullness behind the bloom.

If you require a more substantial stem – now would be the time to include it (probably insert it into the centre of the ribbon) and wrap it to the rosebud with your fine wire. Ensure that your florist wire wrap is nice and tight and all ends secured by pressing them well into the ribbon. You’re going to cover it with tape, but a projecting point will still slash through a finger.

At this point I tend to cut the ribbon from the spool a couple of inches (50mm) below the rosebud, at an angle. This short length of ribbon will become a soft, tapering stem, once wrapped with florists tape.

Hold the green tape at an angle behind your rosebud (I work straight off the spool, you’re only using a few inches), leaving it projecting up beyond the bloom and start wrapping it around the wired section behind the petals to cover the wire and any cut edges of ribbon and gradually down the loose ribbon end – to neaten and finish everything off. Twist that loose ribbon tightly as you work to make a stem and wrap the green tape around this. My tape was waxy and with warm fingers, softened enough to stick to itself as I worked. Once past the end of the ribbon, twist it around on itself a little to secure and ensure that it has stuck – or just add some glue to be sure.

Once you’re sure it is all secure and isn’t unraveling, you can trim the end to taste and trim the starting end of your green florists tape to a long point as a pseudo-calyx for your rose, behind the petals. If you want to be more authentic, you can add a couple more lengths of tape behind the rosebud and trim the points for a fuller set.

Trim the starting end of the florists tape to a point as a pseudo-calyx for your rose, you can add more for greater authenticity.
All done!
© Boo’s Jewellery. 2010. All rights reserved.

Whilst I can’t make any claim to this method, I can on the words and images used to present it and would ask that it isn’t posted or used elsewhere without written permission. Please refer people directly to this blog only. I reserve the right to edit it, move it and possibly publish it in future for a fee. You are welcome to make roses for use – but not to sell directly as a finished product in themselves.