We found what we were looking for (more on that later) and had a super fun adventure. Here are some images from the day…Oh yeah, all of these were shot with my new Canon 35 2.8 TS lens.

I’ll get this started by backtracking a few months, but we’ll get caught up shortly.

enjoy

This shoot was scheduled a little late in the year and the time of day that we scheduled wasn’t perfect. When I arrived at the location, this is what I found waiting for me:

OK, we’ve got a few issues that need to be dealt with. The client wanted the shot to feel bright, Summery, and welcoming. Obviously, it’s not bright and Summery, but we’ve also got a few other obstacles to confront. Here’s a list (in no particular order):
1. Bleak and dreary sky.
2. We’re way past the magic hour typically associated with architectural photography.
3. Multiple trees WITH NO LEAVES in front of the building.
4. Dead ornamental grasses in the landscaping.
5. Water stains and excessive gravel in the parking lot.

In my line of work, I have to make it work- no excuses. The first decision I have to make is compositional, meaning at what angle can I make this building look the most attractive. After a series of test shots, I decided on this composition:

It’s a start. I decided to try to trick the magic hour look by manipulating the elements. I found the maintenance man and asked him to turn on the exterior lights. This gives the viewer the impression that it is either dusk or dawn (even thought it was around 9:45am). I then shot a series of images ranging from way underexposed to way overexposed. These shots will give me some good ammunition in post processing.

After a little work in post, here is another link in the chain:

The lighting, contrast, and composition all work together nicely, but we still have some issues to confront. The leaves are still bare, the landscaping is still tired, the parking lot is still messy and the sky still feels a little bleak. We decided to replace the sky altogether with one that is warmer and feels a little bit more welcoming. Instead of adding leafy trees, we opted to remove them all together. And Finally, the landscaping was refreshed and we got out the old digital broom and cleaned up the parking lot and curbs. Here is the final image:

Check it out: http://www.iwenexposures.com

My dad has this crazy desert plant called a Night Blooming Cereus. This plant, which is also known as Queen of the Night, is a member of the cactus family. This plant is pretty nondescript most of the year, but once a year, on a midsummers night, it produces one heck of a pretty flower. The flower, which lasts only one night, seems to grow our of nowhere and produces a very pungent odor while it is blooming. The video consists of 250 still images shot with a Canon 5D over a period of 6 hours.

San Jose

Heredia
Heredia is bustling city with a very unique, elegant feel located just 10km north of San Jose. Heredia has some of the oldest historical architecture in Costa Rica and it’s definitely worth the 50 cent bus ride. On the bus ride there, I noticed a rainbow to the west. Thankfully, it waited for me to get to Heredia before it clocked out for the afternoon.

The main bus terminal in San Jose is located on the grounds of an old Coca Cola plant, so it is appropriately referred to as the Coca Cola Bus Terminal. From here, you can catch a bus to just about every part of the country. My next destination was the small coastal town of Quepos, which is a sleepy little village on the Pacific side. Taking the bus cross country is a magnificent way to see the Costa Rican countryside. We stopped once at a small country market to pick up a few passengers and have a little lunch on the side of the road.

Once I arrived in Quepos, I didn’t have much time to poke around because Antonio was waiting to take me up to Rafiki Safari. Rafiki Safari is a remote jungle ecotourism slice of heaven. The Boshoff family started the project in 1999 in hopes of using tourism to build a wildlife refuge and Tapir re-introduction program. Once you get to this place, you’ll never want to leave. My good friend Bob, who I river guided with in Montana, was working at Rafiki as a raft guide for the winter. I climbed the stairs to the bar, which was a huge thatched roof over a deck over looking some of the most amazing jungle views you’ll ever see, to find Bob happily mixing drink behind the bar. After a big hug, I asked Bob for something fruity to quench my thirst. He proceeded to pour copious amounts of rum into a very large glass, drop a couple of ice cubes, and finished it off with a lime wedge. Fruity enough, I guess. A few more were in order after that. I spent 10 glorious days at Rafiki. Every day was a new adventure: rafting on the Sevegre river, hiking through the jungle, horseback rides to remote villages, and sipping Pilsens on the hammock.

Here are a few shots from Rafiki and the surrounding countryside:

Bob and Frog

Christmas dinner at Rafiki

My bedroom

Typical Costa Rican lunch in a tiny little village while on a horseback ride.

Bridge over the Sevegre River and our put in for a rafting trip




View of the lodge at Rafiki from across the valley

Time to move on…Keith and I caught a ride out of Rafiki from daddy Boshoff. Our destination was Manuel Antonio and Quepos.



Nothing like a few Pilsens in the afternoon! There are two main Costa Rican beers: Pilsen and Imperial. The rule of thumb is, if the beer’s cold, drink a Pilsen. If the beer is warm, drink an Imperial.

From Quepos, I headed north again en route to San Jose for New Years Eve and to meet by good friend, Dan Decker, who was flying in to from Montana to hang out with me for a week. While at this crazy night club a few miles outside of San Jose, I happened to run into a long time friend and her husband. Crazy. Mind boggling. Of all the places in the world to be on New Years, here we are. Peggy and Mike had rented a car (I guess you could call it a car) and invited Dan and I on a little cross country road trip. Sweet.


Gardens in Zarcero

Sunset at Arenal

Fishing at sunset in Tamarindo

Dan and I headed inland to the little farming community of Santa Cruz. A three week festival had just gotten underway. Just in time.

I left Santa Cruz a few days later to head back to San Jose. After a couple more days in the capital city, I hopped on a plane and headed back to LA. Just in time for the crazy flood season…

I go on a lot of scouting missions to find interesting backdrops for photo shoots. This exploratory activity lead to an ongoing series on zip codes. Here is a body of work I produced in an industrial area just north of Denver in Commerce City. It’s full of beautiful grit. Train yards, power plants, junk yards, and graffiti grace 80216.

Here are a few of the shots:

Here is what the finished product looked like:

One night I had a dream that seemed somehow similar to the Lord of the Flies, so the next day I added it to my que and waited rather impatiently for it to arrive. About a week later, with all necessary model releases signed and dated, as well as about 5 trips to local thrift shops, I set out with 5 ten year olds and a couple of assistants. The assistants helped with lighting and other technical duties, but their main responsibility was making sure all of the models made it home alive.

A group of my ancestors left Germany and other parts of Europe and were in search of new fertile ground in the new country. They were looking for what was familiar to them, land that had the same “feel” that they were used to. They ended up settling in an area of south west Iowa that happens to be very fertile.

Bill Iwen starting farming on his father’s land at a very young age. He has been working that land east of Persia, Iowa for the better part of forty years. He is working and living off of the land that his father did and his father before him. Generations have worked this land. My father’s father used to help with the harvest on this land every fall.

The farm and everything about it has always intrigued me. Today, family farms are struggling as large commercial farms threaten to overtake them. It takes incredible courage and strength to operate a small farm today.

This ongoing photo essay began as a documentation of the plight of the family farm, but it has become much more to me than that. It is a documentary of my family history and an examination of my roots and heritage.

For the last 12 years, the Ouray Ice Festival had been recognized as the premier international gathering of its kind. Competitors and ice fanatics from all over the world descend upon this remote south western Colorado winter wonderland in early to mid January to get their fix. These image are from the 2007 festival. My friend Jared and I headed down from Denver to join the festivities. Having enough cold weather gear for my body was not enough. My poor little lithium camera batteries were in desperate need of their own cold-weather gear. With mid day temperatures far less than zero, fully charged lithium batteries for my 5d would last all of about 50 shots. No joke. Solution? Chemically-charged hand and feet warmers. Activate those crazy warm little buddies and wrap them close to your battery compartment with small cloth- a wash cloth works great for this. Secure the warm cocoon with some gaffer’s tape and your all set. Don’t forget to bring extra hand warmers for your own hands, as well!

Jared at the Black Canyon of the Gunnison

Nightscape of Park County en route back to Denver

We had to cruise up to Evergreen to drop something off to my friend Jason, owner of Active Outfitters. While we were in the area, we decided to check out the newest front range ski and snowboard area: Echo Mountain. Echo is a sweet little terrain park with man-made and natural features located real close to Denver.

I went back to Echo few days later to meet up with local ripper Lakota Sage and some of his friends. Echo has a super solid community or skiers and riders. The attitude is super laid back and is a great place to ride.

Not that one has anything to do with the other, but here are a few images of Laura and her fun little scooter in lower downtown Denver on a crisp fall evening. Actually, there may be some sort of connection here. As I was writing about time machines and time travel and what not, these images popped into my brain. Not sure why, exactly. I think it may have something to do with her hair…and the scooter.

Welcome to the Land of UFO’s, Alligators, and Shangri La

For years, I have heard stories about the mysterious San Luis Valley (SLV) of Southern Colorado. I have read books depicting UFO sightings, multitudes of unexplained animal deaths, or UADs, and numerous Bigfoot sightings. I have talked to people who claim to have seen mysterious lights followed by black helicopters and military vehicles. Anyone who has spent any amount of time in the SLV has some interesting tale to share. I’m not exactly sold on all of this unusual phenomena, but I am intrigued by the landscape, the towns, and the people who call this desolate, isolated place home.

The San Luis Valley is the largest alpine valley in the world, spanning 8000 sq miles from southern Colorado to northern New Mexico. The valley is guarded by the Sangre De Christo mountain range to the east and the San Juans to the west. The Sangre De Christo range, which translates to the blood of Christ, is the second youngest mountain range in North America, and is also one of the most rugged. Some of the earliest traces of man in North America can be found at the foot of the Great Sand Dunes National Park, which is nestled next to the Sangres near the town of Hooper, Co. Humans may have started coming here 10,500 years ago, before the Great Sand Dunes may have even been formed. Breathtaking spear points have been found with mastodon tusks. Twelve different Native American tribes (Southwestern, Great Basin and Plains) shared the sacred “bloodless” valley; location of the “Sacred Mountain of the East” and the Sipapu, or “place of emergence.” Early man may have visited the valley, but it wasn’t continuously habited until the early 1700’s when Spanish settlers began to arrive. The town of San Luis, Co., near the New Mexico border, is the oldest town in Colorado.

Heading south on highway 285 near the town of Salida, I began the ascent up Poncha Pass, one of only four entrances into the valley. The summit of Poncha Pass offers overwhelming views and an impressive first impression of this immense valley. The Sangres, which were dwarfed an hour ago by the massive Sawatch Range, are now the dominant geographic feature and demand attention. The roads are long and straight, giving plenty of time to watch the skies for peculiar activity.

Villa Grove is the first major town along this route. Major may be an overstatement considering at most there are 150 people living here. Given the tiny population, the town has an interesting flavor and is worth spending an hour or so to investigate. The town consists of a general store, a taxidermist, a liquor store, and 3 or 4 art galleries. The Viila Grove Trade, the town’s general store, is worthy of your attention. Claiming to be in operation since 1882, the store offers an eclectic glimpse into the culture of this community. The first thing I noticed through the front door was a glass case full of hand-blown glass oddities. The shop keep said they were for smoking tobacco, but I couldn’t help but wonder if this “tobacco” had anything to do with the high number of UFO sightings in the area. Besides being a general store, the Trade is also an art gallery and a bustling café. Don’t leave without indulging in a buffalo burger and a slice of strawberry cream pie. Seriously.

A few clicks down the road lies the Joyful Journey Hot Springs. There are three pools, each with its own unique temperature. The furthest pool is hot. Very hot. I usually rate hot springs by how hot the water is, and I must admit, I was impressed, but the admission was steep, there were way too many people, and the atmosphere was far from natural. A few miles off the not-so-beaten path towards the mountains will place you at Valley View Hot Springs. This place was exactly what I was looking for; no people, a natural setting, and an impressive view of the entire valley.

Rejuvenated and back on the highway, I was quickly presented with an important decision, left or right. I chose left. By this point, I could see the dunes, but they never seemed to get any closer, no matter how far I drove. Ten miles feels like thirty in this desolate place. Desolate isn’t an insult, in fact, it’s a compliment. Time seemed to slip away and forced by mind to drift, that is, until I happened past the UFO Watchtower.

Judy Messolin had moved to the valley in 1995 to escape the Front Range and to try her hand at raising cattle. A few years later she came to the conclusion that “cows don’t eat sand” and sold off the herd. Since moving there, she had heard the stories of unusual activities in the valley, but never gave it much thought until she started seeing unexplainable things in the night sky. Some local ranchers suggested she start a watchtower for watching UFOs and she went for it. Since she opened the tower in 2000, there have been 34 sightings and she has witnessed 22 of them. Over the most amazing sunset I have ever seen, she proceeded to shed the details of her sightings. As I watched the clouds shift and change colors, my mind began to wander and I could easily see how someone could mistake one of these clouds for a UFO. I bought a book from her shop detailing the strange phenomenon of the valley as a huge storm began to move in. Considering the combination of the storm pounding on my tent, Judy’s stories, and the contents of the book I was reading, I became rather paranoid and unusually frightened. I totally expected some sort of abduction, complete with the infamous probe, before morning.

The next morning I woke without incident. I was actually surprised. I hadn’t slept much due to the confused rooster that was wandering around outside my tent. Sunrise proved to be as impressive as sunset, and I held my head excitedly outside the window on the way to the Sand Dunes. The Dunes, which are the tallest in North America, are the product of the wind and the rain eroding the San Juans and Sangre de Christos. The wind blows the sand down the valley and collects here because it has to drop some of its load in order to clear the mountains. This process, which is still occurring, guarantees that the dunes will be different tomorrow than they are today. That of course is the scientific explanation for the Dunes’ existence. There are some in the area that claim that space vehicles are parked underneath and the Dunes act as an elaborate carport.

At sunrise, I witnessed a herd of deer grazing in front of the dunes and stopped to take some photographs. The dawn proved to animate the dunes, producing a warm pallet of colors and deep, moody shadows. I opted not to hike the dunes this morning because I had seen a sign up the road advertising an alligator rodeo.

Just off of highway 17 near the town of Mosca, lies Colorado’s only alligator farm. Apparently, the tilapia fish farm needed a way to dispose of dead fish, so naturally they brought in 100 gators to enjoy the spoils. The Young’s, who moved to this part of the country from Texas to raise fish, have taken advantage of the geothermal aquifer that exists underneath the valley floor. The gators bask in this naturally warm water year round.

Once a year, the Colorado Alligator Farm holds an event called Gator Fest. I was blessed with the opportunity to attend Gator Fest X. The main event? Gator wrestlin’. Noah and Jay, the farm’s full-time wranglers, showed up to the pond in elaborate face paint, resembling a small-town Kiss cover band. Their job? Defend the rodeo participants from getting their heads chewed off by the 600+ pound reptiles. Over 200 people from all over the country showed up to view this strange, unexpected spectacle in the middle of nowhere.

There are believed to be a few places on Planet Earth where certain metaphysical anomalies exist. Certain places in Tibet, Mt. Shasta, Ca., Sedona, Az., and Crestone, Co, are all believed to house powerful energy vortexes. An energy vortex is an area of invisible, swirling energy emanating from the earth, producing an uplifting, rejuvenating sensation in visitors. Crestone happened to be a few miles northeast of the alligator farm, so I figured it was worth a visit.

Crestone began as a mining town in the late 1800’s, but has clearly evolved tremendously since then. While driving down the country road towards town, it is easy to see why some call this area “Shangri La”. The town itself is nestled at the base of the Crestone Needle and Mt. Blanca, the two largest 14ers in the area. An afternoon storm had left the area blanketed with an enlightening mist. A few old buildings converted into shops and cafes cover a few scant square blocks, but the true essence of the town lies up in the hills. Crestone is considered by some to be a spiritual Mecca. This become very apparent to me, as my exploration revealed a Buddhist temple, a Catholic monastery, a Hindu retreat center, and quite an impressive collection of new-age denominations. I later learned that His Holiness the Dalai Lama has graced the town with his presence a number of times. Tibetan prayer flags line the mountain roads and an occasional monument protrudes towards the heavens offering breathtaking views of the valley floor and surrounding peaks. I felt as if I were eons away from anywhere I have ever been. I’m not saying that I subscribe to the whole energy vortex thing, but I couldn’t help but feel good here. I decided to camp in a small canyon just north of town. For hours, my eyes strained skyward in hopes of seeing something extraordinary.

En route home, I found myself back in Villa Grove where I stopped at Loretta’s Country Café for, perhaps, the best breakfast burrito I’ve ever had in my life. With my stomach full and my gas tank refreshed, I was ready to hit the long, straight road home to contemplate the wonders of the San Louis Valley.