Practice Sometimes Pays Off
Then one day I compared my plan to that of some world-class artists. Picasso painted every day. Professional ballerinas practice every day, as do the musicians down in "the pit". PGA tour golfers go out and practice every day, even immediately after picking up their awards for winning a major tournament. Would Eddie Van Halen have gotten to where he is if he only practiced his arpeggio hammers and pull-offs once a month? Years ago I took a workshop on writing a novel. The instructor told us that if you can't commit to writing something every day, you didn't have a chance of ever getting published.
I decided that if I wanted to really improve at night photography, I had to get out there and shoot more than once a month. In fact, I realized it's also better to experiment with new lighting techniques and new equipment in between the full moons, when shooting time is a premium.
When I get restless on a weeknight, and when I only have about one hour of free time, I often go down to the only marginally-interesting location near my home. It's a recreation field next to a local middle school (often refered to as a junior high school in some parts of the country). It's big enough to get away from direct streetlight, and the old dugouts and bleachers are better than nothing to photograph. Add to the fact that it may get bulldozed to make room for townhomes, I feel like I can't take enough photographs of this place.
The shot with the orange sky was taken during a short break between the rain. I was sitting home drooling over other night photographers' websites, and I was getting restless. It was also a few months after I started shooting with my first digital camera. I just wanted to shoot something other than the recycling bins in my backyard. Small puffy clouds were racing overhead, and I tried to not let the poison of the sodium vapor light bother me. And I got lucky. A large version of that shot hung in the Sunnyvale Public Safety Office for over a year. It also hung in the hallway of my previous employer for half a year (it would still be there if the company hadn't gone out of business).
The shot of the inside of the dugout was taken a few months ago when, as usual, I got restless one weeknight. I had been thinking about working more with a bare flashlight instead of a gel-covered flash, and I just wanted to experiment with a few lighting angles. I took about fifteen shots in just over an hour. Two night photographers, whose opinions I greatly respect, each told me they though it was one of the best shots I'd ever taken.
So whenever I think about how I've consistently been shooting that whopping twelve times per year, I just ask myself what's my excuse for not shooting those other 355 nights that year?