Crown of the Sun
Another descent into madness I still look back on hoping to extract some greater life wisdom, praying it wasn't just a Sisyphean prank from the universe. I once saw the orange glow of the Paramount Building at Miami World Center from my buddy's balcony reflecting off the building's facade. The natural blue/warm color contrast was striking as the twilight sky descended into shadow while a strong burst of sunset painted the glass panels.
I didn't have my gear on me that day, but I knew where, when, and how I needed to be to get the shot I wanted. Getting this angle required setting my camera up on a 25-foot tripod to get high enough to see above the construction site that is out of frame in the foreground. Which means dragging it from the house and setting up the wireless tethering system. Unfortunately, it was the middle of summer in Miami which translates into daily deluges, and they were relentless. The color of the glass depended on a colorful sunset, but for a month it seemed like the clouds drifted in front of the sun at the perfect time to deny me the shot. It felt personal. Day after day I came home frustrated, and of course, the handful of occasions I could not make it to the site because of work and personal obligations would be the days that would taunt me with perfect conditions. Manic was the impending diagnosis. I learned to accept and expect that I'd never get the shot and kept going back just to learn how to laugh about it. One day, the universe decided to put me out of my misery and rewarded me with the most vibrant display of color in the sky turning this image into a natural pallet of complimentary colors.
Now you too can have the result of that experience without getting soaked in a thunderstorm. It's a great print for those who love skyscrapers, color harmonies, and stories of triumph.
Another descent into madness I still look back on hoping to extract some greater life wisdom, praying it wasn't just a Sisyphean prank from the universe. I once saw the orange glow of the Paramount Building at Miami World Center from my buddy's balcony reflecting off the building's facade. The natural blue/warm color contrast was striking as the twilight sky descended into shadow while a strong burst of sunset painted the glass panels.
I didn't have my gear on me that day, but I knew where, when, and how I needed to be to get the shot I wanted. Getting this angle required setting my camera up on a 25-foot tripod to get high enough to see above the construction site that is out of frame in the foreground. Which means dragging it from the house and setting up the wireless tethering system. Unfortunately, it was the middle of summer in Miami which translates into daily deluges, and they were relentless. The color of the glass depended on a colorful sunset, but for a month it seemed like the clouds drifted in front of the sun at the perfect time to deny me the shot. It felt personal. Day after day I came home frustrated, and of course, the handful of occasions I could not make it to the site because of work and personal obligations would be the days that would taunt me with perfect conditions. Manic was the impending diagnosis. I learned to accept and expect that I'd never get the shot and kept going back just to learn how to laugh about it. One day, the universe decided to put me out of my misery and rewarded me with the most vibrant display of color in the sky turning this image into a natural pallet of complimentary colors.
Now you too can have the result of that experience without getting soaked in a thunderstorm. It's a great print for those who love skyscrapers, color harmonies, and stories of triumph.
Another descent into madness I still look back on hoping to extract some greater life wisdom, praying it wasn't just a Sisyphean prank from the universe. I once saw the orange glow of the Paramount Building at Miami World Center from my buddy's balcony reflecting off the building's facade. The natural blue/warm color contrast was striking as the twilight sky descended into shadow while a strong burst of sunset painted the glass panels.
I didn't have my gear on me that day, but I knew where, when, and how I needed to be to get the shot I wanted. Getting this angle required setting my camera up on a 25-foot tripod to get high enough to see above the construction site that is out of frame in the foreground. Which means dragging it from the house and setting up the wireless tethering system. Unfortunately, it was the middle of summer in Miami which translates into daily deluges, and they were relentless. The color of the glass depended on a colorful sunset, but for a month it seemed like the clouds drifted in front of the sun at the perfect time to deny me the shot. It felt personal. Day after day I came home frustrated, and of course, the handful of occasions I could not make it to the site because of work and personal obligations would be the days that would taunt me with perfect conditions. Manic was the impending diagnosis. I learned to accept and expect that I'd never get the shot and kept going back just to learn how to laugh about it. One day, the universe decided to put me out of my misery and rewarded me with the most vibrant display of color in the sky turning this image into a natural pallet of complimentary colors.
Now you too can have the result of that experience without getting soaked in a thunderstorm. It's a great print for those who love skyscrapers, color harmonies, and stories of triumph.
