Iconic Photo Analysis

                                                                      Fading Away


                                            Henry Peach Robinson (English 1830-1901)

Robinson was best known for his pioneering combination printing, joining multiple negatives
to eventually form a single image. He learned the ways of photography from Dr. Hugh Diamond's instructions, which had been printed in the Journal of the Photographic Society. He unfortunately had to leave the world of dark room work due to an illness caused by toxic chemicals there. Robinson continued to be involved in the photographic world however, and wrote famous works about photography, and formed the Linked Ring, a society of photographers who grew disillusioned by the photographic establishment as represented by the Photographic Society.

This photo caught my eye right away, because it is so vintage and outdated. I felt remorse for the woman who was dying, and her loved ones that surrounded her. Besides being one of his most famous works, this picture sticks me as unique and captivating, it really made me think and wonder what was going through each person's head in the photo.

This work depicted a young girl's death, surrounded by her family. I feel as though topics such as these need to be recognized and thought about, because they can't always be ignored. Robinson, I believe, showed how each person dealt with this situation, just by their body language.

Digital Typography Photo

Elf Effect

                                                                             Original

Morph Me Photo

This photo is successful because I learned new and different techniques to change and morph a photo. I played around lots of settings and new styles.

This photo is unseuccessful because I could have tried more difficult ways to change my photo, i only changed the face.

A Bio of a Stranger

                                            

   The Story of Lucy Cambell

It was 1945, and I wasn’t sure where I was headed, but I know I was headed somewhere important. I just couldn’t seem to find where it was...

 Recently, through all of my endeavors, I have found myself. I found myself through heartbreak, pain, and the occasional night on the town. The streets were crowded; I couldn’t find my way through all the people without stepping in an unknown thing, or walking through someone’s cloud of smoke.  I can’t say I enjoy this smell, but I also find it to remind me of home, because this is my home. It’s what brings me back to sanity; it’s what brings me back to myself, the self that I've always known.

On my morning walks to work, I take in everything, I see it all, and sometimes it helps to imagine what other people are saying. I give them names and stories, and sometimes...I even feel their pain, or whatever feeling that is in their hearts. I see Old Man Gregory, smoking on his cigarette, black eyes, and an empty soul. He looks at me with sorrow, and I want to give him all the hope I own, but I can't, because there's not even enough for myself. He walks past me, and I silently wish he would turn around, so I can say goodbye. I keep walking, but most of it is a blur, the sounds fuse into one, and the colors slowly fade. I've seen this all before, everyday, and every night. Next I see all the workers in their private shops, pretend smiles, and a whole days work ahead. The barber smiles at me, a short, stocky man, and a smile that is nothing but jolly. His apron already looks worn as he sweeps the floor, and I wonder what he feels about coming there every day.

 Then I suddenly ponder about what I look like to the world, and what kind of stories they construe about me. I must look insane, completely lost in everything and anything, not having a final destination. They know it’s true, they can sense my fear, but I didn't know it showed so much through my exterior. I suddenly came back to the busy Chicago streets, and I realized where I have been going. I knew I had somewhere to be, and I knew it was work, but I didn't want to say that to myself...not yet anyways. So I came to a stop, feet throbbing in my red heels, fingers like ice rocks, and my nose running like a broken faucet. I came into a small cafe, in hopes of re-gaining some warmth, and for a cup of tea. I came up to an empty table and silently sat, once again taking in all the room's aroma's, colors, and sounds. I began to drift into a different reality once more, when what I thought was the waiter came up to me. I slowly looked up, and started to give a greeting, but my words were cut off and my breath stopped short, like a knife through butter. There he was, standing there, Evan Willams, exactly how I remembered. A man of excellent height, broad shoulders, golden smile, and eyes as green as a sea of emeralds. His eyes always got me, it took just one look, and I was eternally lost. He started to speak, but I couldn't take in any words. I just stood up, took his face in my hands and touched his lips with mine. In that moment, that's when I was home, truly I was home once more. The world around me didn't matter, nobody's life stories mattered, the only one that mattered was the one with Evan in it. The moment and story, was now.