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Tilt-Shift San Francisco

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Love experimenting around with the tilt-shift effect/filter.

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Tunnel Boring Machines or TBM’s

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Pics of Tunnel Boring Machine aka TBM’s. They will be used to create the Central Muni Tunnel/Subway. The piece in the photo is called Big Alma. Naming them is good luck. More information can be found here.
http://centralsubwaysf.com/tbm-name
They also have Twitter handles. @BigAlmatheTBM and @MomChungtheTBM.

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Briefly photographed “No XL Keystone Pipeline protest

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Yesterday I checked out a No on XL protest. Firstly I don’t know what XL meant. I think it has something to do with a pipeline. Secondly, I was not treated very well while photographing that protest. Thirdly I still don’t know what all the signs meant.
But if you look at the photos you can see that I cover all angles when it comes to photographing the full scope of the event.

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Animated GIF of Great Horned Owl

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Follow the link to an animated GIF of a Great Horned Owl.
http://gifboom.com/x/b62cc8ef

Photos taken using the mobile app called Hipstamatic.

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I have installed on my iPhone an app called Hipstamatic. The trick is to make sure you have the best composition and make sure you have chosen the best lense and film type combo that you think best captures that moment.
There are a lot of film types and lenses and at least one of them will capture the moment better than the others.’

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Still no texting into 911 and 311 Call in systems

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I often photograph large events where large amounts of people usually attend.
I have witnessed many shootings.
But when I tried calling 911 at those events it was literally impossible to get through, either because the 911 call-in system here in SF puts people on hold, and were busy, or there were not enough cell phone towers to support cell phone users etc. Also there are not enough pay phones on the streets.
My point: it is about time the Federal government dish out the money that would enable every 911 call-in system to be able to take or receive text messages. And additionally make it so operators can track where those text messages originate from.
I would also like to add, that phoning in large crowds is tough because of the noise.
I attended a party in the Castro one year called Pink Night. At that event there was a shooting. I witnessed that shooting and nearly got shot myself, but when I tried calling 911 I was put on hold, so I eventually had to hang up and because SF has spotty cell phone coverage( was using AT&T) the call back never occurred.
Below are pics of what a shooting scene looks like. The only reason police arrived because they luckily were nearby, and heard the shots themselves. The shooter was never captured and one person had died.

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Boston Bombing, Arming Police or Training Photogs?

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I’m not into the whole police state thing, but in the name of safety, what would you prefer your police to be armed with? Whistles and walkie talkies or multiple round grenade launchers?
Photos by Dina Boyer.
SFPD came armed with their weapons for an Occupy Protest.
Also I think it’s about time the Feds train citizen photographers to watch out for possible terrorists at large events. It is also now obvious that bomb sniffing dogs are useless.

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Recovered From Loss of Mom by Photographing Wild Horses.

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Recovered from loss of my Mom by Photographing Wild Horses
In December of 2012, my mom succumbed to Pancreatic Cancer. She was diagnosed with it in the summer of 2012, and died from the cancer less than 6 months later. My mom was my rock, she was the only one in my immediate family who cared and loved me. She knew I was alone and unwillingly at odds with society.
It was a strange trip back to Maryland, I currently live in California and had not been to MD, where they lived, in over 15 years. I left Maryland in 1997, disgusted and estranged from the rest of my family. I left MD to seek out my Manifest Destiny. I left to remake my life, and pursue and develop the creative side of me. I also left Maryland to recover from the trauma caused from the fact that I could not raise nor be in my son’s life.
While at the hospital my mom could hear me when I talked to her, and she briefly opened her eyes to see me. While she laid there dying, I only had three brief moments without my sister in the room, but I made sure I communicated my exact thoughts; “mom, you made me happy.” She was the World’s best mom, at least in my mind. On December 30th, only a mere 40 minutes after I arrived at the hospital I watched her last breaths, and she was gone. I did not understand, and I was confused why she had been taken away from me and why I had to see her while she lay in a hospital bed dying from one of the worse diseases a human must endure.
The trip back to California was filled with teared-up eyes and utter grief. I was tore up, but I knew when I got back to California I had one thing, and one thing only at my disposal. MY CAMERA, and an urge to fulfill another one of my life’s dreams.

I rented a car and drove to Nevada. Nevada you ask? Yes, Nevada, the Reno area to be exact. Reno is mostly known for gambling and cheap hotels, but I knew something that most photogs don’t know. In an area known as the Virginia Range there exists a species of wildlife that has largely been ignored, disrespected and mistreated. They are known as MUSTANGS, aka wild horses. One of my life’s’ dreams has been to photograph them in their natural setting.
What I encountered and learned next was astonishing, shocking, sad, intimate, and satisfying. I drove around Storey County in Nevada, asking questions of locals, looking and searching and seeking those horses. And guess what? I found them. The first herd I found was located in an area known as the Pine Nut Mountain area. That was where I learned what the terms “boss mare” and a “stallion” meant. That is where I learned the boss mare protects and inquires about whom or what enters their family or space.
After I photographed that band and or herd, I moved onto another area. An area east of Reno known as the Clarke Mountain area, where there is a power plant, industrial parks, a dump, and police training areas. An area where the Truckee River weaves through, an area where there is abundant wildlife, a large brothel, and BLM land.

That is where I learned a fact that triggered something in my brain. The trigger fixed me; I was no longer depressed about my mom, a trigger that helped me to speed up my recovery.
I will explain, people asked me how can you tell those horses are wild; they could simply be roaming around on a ranch, so I allowed them to tell me and show me their life. I parked the car on the side of the road, grabbed my cameras, GPS and started walking. I immediately encountered a band. A band is a family unit that has a stallion (a male), juveniles and mares. One stallion may fulfill multiple mares and create multiple juveniles. Stallions protect the band. Mares are the Moms, they need to know who is penetrating their band and they need to know who you are if you decide to proceed. I followed one band many miles into land that showed evidence of Mountain Lions, Coyotes and multiple bands of Mustangs.
Wild horses were originally not wild, they were feral, left to run on the range by previous owners who for economic or personal reasons felt they would survive better on their own.
That band of horses, allowed me to get close, allowed me to be in their space, allowed me to observe their young playing and frolicking. But after several hours something happened that helped me realize: were all confused, were all sad, and were all dismayed about death. (see photos)
You see that band of horses led me into an area that was full of bones. Horse bones were everywhere, and the boss mare of that band with a simple glance, facial or body gesture helped me conclude even a horse has a hard time with the death of one of their own.
No other person nor religious text nor song nor relative helped me out of my depressive state, but a boss mare from a Mustang band in hostile wild country snapped me out-of-it. I was now okay.
I miss my mom, but I constantly think back to my encounters with the Mustangs in the Virginia Range. My encounter with those Mustangs made me happy just like my Mom did!

Flickr Photo Set of Mustangs

Mustangs: Untold Stories

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When I was photographing the Mustangs on the Virginia Range I noticed a behavior that was sort of heart breaking. I followed one band for a few miles into the range. You could tell they accepted the fact that I was there by their behavior, but suddenly a boss mare stopped kicked at the ground, looked at me, and gave me an expression that got my attention. At the bottom of her feet on the ground were the bones of another horse. I looked around and I realized the whole area had lots of bones. I’ll never forget that.

Mustang Band Virginia Range

 

 

 

A Mustang Band

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mustangs may also be struggling to understand why they die. I have been told, when their in captivity, when they die, they are usually isolated from other horses, so death may still be confusing to them.Some of those Mustangs, can die while giving birth, some die by natural causes, but some also die under suspicious circumstances.

Boss mare led me to this bone field.

Boss mare led me to this bone field.

Look at her feet. What do you see? Bones.

Look at her feet. What do you see? Bones. This Boss Mare and her band led me to the bone field. I wish I could figure out what she was trying to communicate. This has been one of the most precious wildlife encounters I had.

Coyote encounter in Yosemite

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Coyote in Yosemite

During my visit to Yosemite, I did have a Coyote encounter.

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