Half a dozen years ago, I was driving home after a commissioned photo shoot in rural North Dakota when, many miles in front of me, I noticed a long line if distant and compelling clouds. They were moving fairly quickly from left to right so, if I wanted the peak of the clouds above the roadway, which I did, I had to move fast. I stopped (duh!), jumped out of the car and quickly set up the tripod and camera (which is why it is important to intimately know your gear) and, waiting a few seconds for an important cloud shadow to move further down the road, made this exposure. I knew I had something special.
While I remember, clearly, what I was I was thinking when the shutter snapped, my motivations for processing and cropping are lost forever. What I do know is that I removed the top 40% of the frame. What I do not know is why.
I became reacquainted with this photograph while making image selections for a magazine submission (fingers crossed!). I have always liked it, but over the years it had lost some of its appeal. When I saw it in the files last week, I realized why. The crop. The crop was drastic and, while it served to emphasize the juxtaposition of the lyrical, textured clouds and the straight-edged road, it failed to include enough atmosphere. I call this image “Road to Eternity” or, alternatively, “Road to Infinity”, depending on my mood. However, the initial crop removed the bulk of the negative space, and with it the illusion (reality?) of “eternity” or “infinity.” The long, horizontal shape became more about the flatness and emptiness of the surrounding plains rather than the straight, seemingly endless, roadway receding into the clouds.
So, I took another crack at it. This time I left the frame uncropped and gave a bit more presence to the foreground roadway. Now, with the added space at the top of the frame, it says “eternity” or “infinity”, depending on my mood, of course. It is a much more powerful and vast image and, I think, one which compels the viewer to think of things much greater than us.
I encourage everyone to revisit older images. Use your refined vision and improved techniques to present older work in a stronger light. Never be afraid to say you were wrong. It’s just one way we can prove that we are better than we were. And that is a very good thing.