Though I worked professionally as a photographer many years ago, very few of the photographs here came out of intentional self-assignments. I mostly make images of beautiful things I see in my daily doings. Working as an information architect and consultant in the Internet industry, I find many of my encounters with technology are de-humanizing and sterile. Stopping for a few minutes each day to deliberately compose and shoot a good photograph recharges my soul.
Answering the common question of "What camera?": For several years I used Nikon Coolpix cameras, the 950 and 995. This year, I switched to an Olympus C-5060, which has served me well so far, but I'm ready to make the jump to one of the digital SLRs next year. I rarely shoot with electronic flash or a tripod, though I should use the latter more often. Specifics aside, we're at a point of maturity in the digital camera market, and any name-brand camera with a resolution of 2 megapixels or more will do a fine job.
My other "secret" is that I always post-process my images in Adobe Photoshop with as much care as during my years of traditional photochemical darkroom work. The darkroom experience of developing film and making prints applies directly to more powerful tools we have in today's digital workflow.
Below are some selected slices of time from the digital era of my 25-year love affair with photography — please don't steal them. I'm always happy to work out a fair arrangement with you if you need an original image for publication. Just e-mail me.
More photos on flickr.All of the images in this gallery are copyright © 2004 Michael Lee, and are not to be reproduced or used without written consent. Page updated March 2005
Back in July 2004, I was out in a field of sunflowers that had mostly closed up, but there was this one lone plant, which I photographed and blogged. As is often the case, an alternate frame has grown on me, so here is the nicer image that was on my laptop desktop for several weeks.
I remember looking at the orange clouds on the horizon behind Buckingham Fountain in Chicago's Grant Park and thinking that I missed a great sunset shot. But that made me look harder in the twilight for another beautiful moment. I noticed a six-foot-diameter puddle of water at the edge of the gravel walkway, and planted my camera on the ground by it to create a mirror image of the fountain. The arrival of the silhouetted bicyclist capped off the left side of this soothing composition.
We were in town for AARP's 2003 National Event, and this twilight scene of a receding weather front kicked off a week of excellent weather.
Sidewalk art by the late Keith Haring at the NW corner of Prince and Broadway in SoHo. Taken on a shopping day in NYC.
While cradling my daughter in my arms by a Christmas tree, I captured the motion-blurred reflection of the lights in her eye. This is part of a series of images made during the first few weeks of her life to record the high contrast scenes that were imprinting on her newborn mind.
Here's another photo taken during the week of May 12-18 2003 for submission to the America 24/7 project. I had a great time hanging out on Broadway chatting with people who stopped by to ask about what I was photographing. I made 250 exposures to get one with just the right veil of clouds over the moon.
Steam from my coffee and a daydream condense on the lid—only to be washed away by the day's first sip.
This is one of a series of time exposures I made by placing my digital camera on the railing of a commuter ferry as it rounded lower Manhattan at night. I had done about 100 boat rides by this time, and made every kind of shot possible of the skyline, so my challenge was to start thinking of very different approaches. I was pretty pleased with how the motion of the boat over the harbor waves created an energetic tangle of light streaks out of the bridge lights. The rest of the images are in the January 2003 curiousLee archives.
These are some of the carved pumpkins displayed during our too-far-in-the-past Halloween trip to Jenna's Dad's farm near Flemington, New Jersey.
On our first venture out of the house after the Big Storm of February 2003, I snagged this scene of Amy and our dog behind the white sihouette of a car buried under almost three feet of snow. I love how the hood of the car also hints at the dog's leash. More from that day ...
Robert Adzema's sundial sculpture by the Hyatt in Jersey City frames the vividly lit Empire State Building at sunset. I took this photo in November 2002 during the first week of working in Jersey City at AIG, and the sundial became my favorite spot on the Jersey side to go and think after work. This spectacular view marked the beginning of many more months of riverside picture taking.
My wife's blue eyes take in the peaceful twilight over the Upper Potomac River in Level, West Virginia. These are blues you wish could last forever.
On a weekend getaway to Opossum Creek Retreats back in November 2001, I studied this leaf on a moss covered log with my Nikon Coolpix fisheye lens.
Many a winter evening after work at my old office at Tide Point, I'd walk past this view of the back of the Domino Sugar Factory on my way to the parking lot. Most people see this Baltimore Inner Harbor landmark from the waterfront side where the large neon sign is prominently visible. From behind the factory, you are not only presented with a more intimate view of the sugar processing operations, the smell of molasses permeates the air too. Friends have commented that this image reminds them of the work of American realist painter Edward Hopper, and indeed, the walks past the factory were often accompanied by the same feeling of loneliness that Hopper so often incorporated into his paintings.
Stewart Brand delivers his keynote speech in Portland at the Information Architecture Summit 2003 in front of a projected diagram of his pace layers of change. Culture is on his mind, and nature is in his heart, but he's always mindful of the Long View.
In the twilight of a pleasant evening back in July 2001, I made this lucky shot of a firefly on the end of my wife Amy's index finger. We were walking back from dinner, and as she often does, Amy scooped a firefly-in-flight into her hands to say hello. I turned my camera on and tracked the firefly in her hand as we walked up to the front of the house. The firefly was crawling steadily out of her palm to the tip of her index finger to make a leap back into the air. In a subconsciously decisive moment, I pressed the shutter button, and this image appeared on my LCD screen. When I looked back at Amy's hand, the firefly was gone. Perhaps the little bug enjoyed her brief rest stop enough to allow us this illuminated parting memento.
This image has appeared on the Smithsonian Watershed Radio web site and Annenberg/CPB Learner.org's Journey North site.
A casual night out with my camera and tripod in Lower Manhattan on a foggy night produced this memorable image of an antique clock in front of the Woolworth Building. Most incredibly, this shot was chosen out of 1 million frames as one of the 260 display images to appear as a two-page spread in the new book America 24/7. This is the most recognition I've ever received for a photograph and I'm incredibly honored. The book is one of the outputs of a massive project organized by the team who produced The Day in the Life ... series of books to create a one-week digital photographic time capsule of America. Professionals and amateurs photographed in all 50 states from May 12-18, 2003, and each submitted seven of their best frames via the project web site. The project will produce a video documentary, traveling gallery show, and more books for each state, so you'll likely see this image again. I've given the project organizers permission to sell framed prints of this image, so check back here or at the America 24/7 project site for more announcements.
I have a framed copy of this photo of my wife Amy by my desk here in Baltimore and when I was in New York. I consider it my signature environmental portrait of her as it captures her easy-going personality and love of life's simple pleasures. The image serves as a wonderful icon for the pre-children phase of our life together. We were at our friend Bill's house and he created a shower of blossom petals by shaking a cherry tree just as we were walking down the driveway. This is the kind of image that's very difficult to make with a digital camera unless it just happens to be turned on—and luckily it was.
On the NY Waterway commuter ferry, I caught a view of the last sunset of 2002 over The Statue of Liberty and the Hudson River as the boat approached Pier 11 and Wall Street.
Amy and I took a dinner and dancing cruise on the Hudson River on New Year's Eve 2002. The World Yacht boat left from Pier 81 on 41st Street in Manhattan, and sailed around Lower Manhattan and under the Brooklyn and Manhattan Bridges. The boat then turned around and motored to a point south of Governor's Island where we had a panoramic view of fireworks at midnight over Jersey City, The Statue of Liberty, Manhattan and Brooklyn. It was a magical ride into 2003.
This is the shape formed by one last gulp of Diet Coke in the bottom of the plastic bottle. The camera lens is resting directly on in the top of the container. Photo Friday deemed this image noteworthy.
Just before my hundredth night of living in a hotel off Wall Street in New York City, I made this close-up of the condensation in the lid of my takeout edamame. I found art in ennui.
In the winter, the commuter ferrys on the Hudson River trail wakes that splash water up to form icicles under the railings of the pedestrian walkway at Jersey City's Exchange Place. Out of focus in the background is Lower Manhattan's World Financial Center.
On one of our long drives to visit my wife's family for Christmas, I stumbled half asleep out of our car at a truck stop in West Virginia and noticed this dandelion giving in to the first frost after an indian summer.
Many nights after work during the year my office was at Tide Point in South Baltimore, I would walk the waterfront promenade to contemplate the day. The original blog post of this image had the caption, "the twilight doesn't care about your problems."
I spied the delicate raindrops on this Crocus flower in my front yard with the legendary macro lens of my Nikon Coolpix 995.
In 2002, we rented a cabin near Boothbay Harbor, Maine, and this was typical of the sunsets we saw that wonderful week.
I have a habit of noticing and photographing details on restaurant tables. My wife's used to this after 16+ years of marriage. This is a closeup of fondue sticks in a hot pot at The Melting Pot in Towson, Maryland.
It was a beautiful Sunday this past April (2003), but I've photographed the Inner Harbor a million times. And the light at mid-day isn't too exciting. So the low angle of the flowers adds a splash of intense color to an otherwise mundane skyline view.
This past April (2003), a momma duck had her babies on the granite slabs at water's edge near the Maryland Science Center. Here, one savvy duckling snuggles up. Not only was it a beautiful spring day, but I was walking around with the new knowledge of our baby-girl-to-be, which might explain this sappy composition.
Savannah is a model I hired to work with me on portrait and figure work at the MICA photo studio. I made all kinds of preparations for artificial lighting, but ended up just opening a window and shooting with natural light.
During an outing at the National Arboretum to photograph some family friends, I exploited the drab, overcast sky as a perfectly even light source to create a silhouette of myself over the color-saturated forms of koi and water lilies.