Short Film: Dark Side of the Lens

At the heart of "Dark Side of the Lens" is one man's struggle to capture the power and beauty of the ocean. After seeing some fairly big waves in person, I can't imagine going out there in that surf and trying to film it or photograph it. It must take some combination of adventurousness and insanity. But it seems he's doing what he loves:

Winner - Best Cinematography, Rhode Island International Film Festival, 2011 | Action Sports Category, Vimeo Awards 2012 | G-Raid Driven Creativity award - Professional Category | Best Cinematography, 5Point Film Festival 2011 | Grand Prize - Chamonix Film Festival 2011 | Best short - New York Surf Film Festival 2011 |  Digital short of the Year, Surfer Poll | Relentless Short Stories 2011 | Amstel Surf Film Festibal, Peoples Choice award | Best short, Sheffield Adventure Film Festival | Best International Short, Canadian Surf Film Festival | Best Short, Waimea Ocean Film Festival

North Shore

We made the drive out to Oahu's North Shore on a wet, stormy day when the clouds hung low across the mountains. The grey mist shrouded all but the road and a few glimpses of pineapples, coffee, and corn stretched out across the flat plains. As we hit the coast, the rain finally let up enough to promise a clear view of the surging surf that had closed the beaches for the last few days.
 

From Waimea to Pipeline to Laie Point, the sea pounded the shore under a blanket of grey skies. We wandered the shores, disregarding the wind in favor of a chance to try to capture that moment of breaking.

Laie Point provided the most haunting views, at the edge of the land, a glimpse north into nothing, knowing that from here only the Aleutian islands dared to rise above the sea.

After the shutters stopped, the wind carried on relentlessly, bringing with it another misting of rain. We stood bundled in our coats, content to watch the waves and wonder.

All photos by Kara Haberstock, all rights reserved

Lanikai

If you've been reading for a while, you might remember the pictures from the hike I took up to Lanikai Pillboxes with Nate and a couple of his friends. Since I loved the hike so much and since we had friends with us who had never seen a sunrise in Hawaii, we decided the hike was a must-do activity while we were on Oahu. 

The weather that morning was wet, misty, and overall uncooperative. Rain soaked the trail, rendering it a slippery, muddy, mess that could only be navigated with the help of ropes strung along some small trees by some helpful prior traveler. We scrambled up the hillside to be greeted with a view of mist, mist, and more mist. 

The water was still a lovely crystalline blue, and a few small islands could be glimpsed through the white mist, presenting a pretty, if not astounding, picture. We snapped a few photos, trying to make the best of it.

But just before we turned to make the treacherous slide back down the muddy mountainside, the sun began to illuminate the clouds.

The mist rolled back.

And the sun broke through.

And we were treated an array of pure, awe-inspiring light. 

After a brief break in the clouds, the mist rolled back in, and soft rain began to fall.

We ran and slid back through the mud, giddy and soaked, glad for a brief blessing at dawn.

Autumn

Autumn in Tucson can be quite frustrating. The cool evenings and light breeze provide a welcome respite from the heat, and all around the city life springs up again. The mornings are crisp and clear, the perfect weather for sweaters and boots*. However, with afternoon highs still hitting the nineties, it's the season of on-again-off-again layers, the time of teasing weather, of "just-wait-a-little-longer-fall-is-almost-here-for-real-this-time." These photos from Prescott remind that it is indeed autumn somewhere, at least. And perhaps autumn will be here soon as well.

*anything under 75 degrees is sweater-and-boot weather here in Tucson

all photos belong to Kara Haberstock, all rights reserved

Dusk in the Desert

A little while back, Nate and I hiked up around Gate's Pass after work. It was that time of day when the sun has just fallen beneath the horizon and everything is still. The moon was just beginning to shine over the mountains above us, and all around the desert was slowly coming to life. Small creatures began to rustle around in the bushes as a cool evening breeze swept over the mountainside. Lacking flashlights, we headed back to the car before the light faded altogether, quiet in the hush that came with the end of day. I took a few shots, mostly in black-and-white since the light was so low- a few glimpses of the desert at summer's dusk.

All photos belong to Kara Haberstock, all rights reserved

Inspired: Joy St. Claire

This weekend, I had the chance to spend a few days in Prescott, AZ, and it was beautiful. The weather was cool and crisp, the night skies were clear and bright, and the leaves were just beginning to turn gold and crimson. It was a wonderful taste of fall that we often miss out on down here in the desert; and I spent it with the lovely women of Moxie, which meant we had lots of fun.

Anyways, all of the lovely autumn weather reminded me of Joy St. Claire's gorgeous fine art photography. St. Claire captures all sorts of still life and vignettes of natural landscapes around upper Midwest. Her use of light in her work often conveys a sense of nostalgia and gives her photographs a soft, dreamy aura.

Autumn Mist

Was it all a dream?

Golden Sunset Bokeh

I awoke to fog

Vintage Apple

Beauty with age

I dreamt of the beach

All of these prints and more can be bought in Joy St. Claire's Etsy Shop. 

Check out more of her photography on her website.

Milagrosa Canyon

For those of you who aren't in on the secret, Milagrosa is a fantastic hidden-away hiking spot in Tucson that has some lovely pools and cliff-jumping spots during the rainy seasons and spring run-off. Word to the wise: Don't go without someone who's done the hike before (the trail can be a bit hard to follow in a few places, making it easy to get lost). But it's most definitely worth it. 

Deserts are beautiful too

View from the top of one of the shelves (near the best jumping point)

Looking back across towards Tucson

The always lovable, but prickly, barrel cactus

Headed home

I'm suddenly very antsy for the start of fall and the chance to get outdoors without the searing temperatures.

All photos by Kara Haberstock, all rights reserved

The Nature of Trees

What is it of the natures of trees that we find them so wondrous?

For what reason do we fashion them into metaphors and myths?

The tree of life. The tree of knowledge. Wood nymphs and dryads. Ents and sylvans. 

Why do we find them so majestic? For what purpose do we imagine they speak? From where do we assume their strength and wisdom?

Is it their sheer breadth? The awe-inspiring grandeur of the massive oak or towering sequoia, and the thought that even the smallest of these we find could one day become so tremendous?

Is it the bark which clothes them, finely spun, in ever undulating patterns that rub roughly against well-worn fingertips?

Or is it their lines and curves-- the stark perpendicularity of a proud pine against the gentle arc of a spreading willow?

Perhaps it is the voice of the wind as it plays through the gentle leaves overhead and the glimmers of gold amidst the quaking leaves.

Do we envy the stability of their roots, that strong anchor against whatever storm may come? Is this why an uprooted giant is mourned as such a tragedy?

Is it the cool shade they provide, their abode for birds and other small creatures, their gift of aesthetic beauty? Do we see in them humble generosity?

Perhaps we sense in them a timelessness, their slowly unfolding growth a contrast to our fleeting journeys across these spaces, and we take comfort in knowing their steadfast presence at this very moment in their place no matter where our feet may take us.

Or, perchance, they simply remind us to stop, stand still and be.



All photos by Kara Haberstock, all rights reserved

Film: The First 70

State parks are closing around the U.S., especially out West. I know of a few great spots in Arizona that have shut their gates over the past few months due to budget cuts. The First 70 visits 70 closing California state parks to document the beauty of what may soon be lost. The trailer itself is absolutely stunning- I can't wait to see the final product.


The First 70 Trailer from Heath Hen Films on Vimeo.
A journey through California to document the closure of 70 state parks. www.thefirst70.com
Read more about the film at http://kck.st/sMWsKY
Follow us at facebook.com/caparktrip
Shot on a Canon 7d, 5d, and t2i.

To learn more or to get involved, check out their website