The future has arrived... today

July 6th will mark the official 7 year anniversary of when I started this blog. This week marks the 7 year anniversary of when Hubby and I formally filed and formed our corporation, Rosehaven Cottage Inc. with me as the CEO and him as the VP-of-everything-else. We had the foresight to know that we needed to incorporate and created a corporate "umbrella" for my creative pursuits that would follow... but that's about all we could foresee.  

Seven whole years is the longest I've ever "worked" at one job. I started this creative journey fueled by the creative spark digital photography had re-lit within me after I'd been on a creative hiatus for a while. I wasn't sure what I wanted to do along the way or what I wanted to grow into becoming. I simply knew that I wanted to create beautiful things to be appreciated and consumed visually by others.

I am a classic introvert by nature (as many bloggers are) so I spent years trying to hide behind the moniker "Cindy at Rosehaven Cottage". It was easy to write blog posts about my garden so a large portion of my posts were focused on the outdoor life. Writing about our house, Rosehaven Cottage, was easy too, so I shared some of our DIY adventures here too. The title "Rosehaven Cottage" became synonymous with gardening and home improvement and "Cindy at Rosehaven Cottage" was seen as a "garden blogger". The audience that this blog attracted ended up being more interested in my green thumb and sledgehammer-wielding skills and less about the creative career I was building and very passionate about. 

Like many things in the digital realm, blogging has gone through evolutions and I've seen it go through a few in the seven years I've had this blog. The current trend in blogging is leaning toward catching and retaining readers with slick Pinterest-ready posts full of helpful tips or with attention-getting titles that lure a reader to read the blogger's personal insights, philosophies and musings. Several big-time blogs have had to revamp their way of doing business in order to remain financially viable now that content is often generated on mobile devices that don't accommodate sidebar advertising. They've had to resort to embedded advertising within blog posts to keep generating revenue. And none of that is what I'm really focused on in my "real life".

What is my "real life"? Some of you may already know the answer to that question but some of you may not. Here's the answer...

I am a professional photographer, artist and graphic designer. I am a business owner (technically a "CEO"). My business is about creating visual images that:

• have been licensed to appear on stationery you might have seen when you were shopping for just the right card for a special occasion. 
• are sold as canvases, fine art prints, cards and cell phone cases
• are sold as digital files to other creative professionals that incorporate my work into their own work like websites/blogs, advertising, publications, crafts and derivative art 

For the past several months, I've been at a professional crossroads regarding this blog. I am at an exciting point in my creative career where I am seeing my dreams becoming realities. This is wonderful but it has created a conundrum I've had to face. As a creative professional whose work is of a visual medium, my online presence (some call it "brand") needs to remain professional. My online posts can't just be an open garden journal. They can't be filled with personal musings that I then wish I hadn't published a week after I have. And I also cannot hide behind the moniker "Cindy at Rosehaven Cottage" and be taken seriously by my creative peers and mentors.

This is why I've spent the past couple of months creating and fine-tuning a new online presence at www.CindyGarberIverson.com. It is a cohesive and responsive format so anyone can enjoy it on a smartphone, a tablet or a desktop computer. And I have integrated a blog into the design that I will be posting to regularly as I release new work. Coupled with social media like Instagram (where I'll still share some photographic snippets of what's happening in the garden), I am embarking on a new blogging journey that will be all about my creative pursuits and passions. If you follow me on Pinterest, you can be a fly on the wall as I gather inspiration for new projects and you can watch the early stages of my creative process "real-time" (so if you start to see me pinning lots of photos of vintage sinks you can bet that it has something to do with what I'm working on at the moment).

I'm finally doing it. I'm finally being what I always wanted to be when I grew up. As one of my favorite songs by The All-American Rejects (on the Meet The Robinsons soundtrack) says... the future has arrived!

The future's arrived

Nobody can doubt

The future is what everything's about

It's better for you

It's better for me

It's better than what everybody thought it would be

It's time to create

Time to grow

If you're feeling right

The world

Yeah she's changing

And life's rearranging

Don't it make you feel alive?

The future has arrived

See you over at CindyGarberIverson.com

Last Saturday was a lovely day for shooting photographs at Stinson Beach along the Northern California coast

My cousin and aunt were in town over last weekend, so we took them to the beach to our west to beat the inland heat. It was a gorgeous day—not too hot and not too cold. And the light was spectacular for shooting photographs with my "big gun". 

As I've written before, my favorite shots are those when "photographic serendipity" happens. The beach was full of just those kinds of moments. I was loving every minute of it.

Of course, once I get back to my studio the rest of the work happens in the post-processing phase when I tweak the photos to make them look exactly how my eyes were seeing the light and the colors of the seashore in person. The camera doesn't always capture things exactly the way the human eye sees them. So it's always a fun challenge to recreate what I remember seeing when I was there.

The photos above are now available at CreativeMarket. com to use for:
websites • blogs • advertising • publications • crafts • home
(click on each one to go directly to it or click here to go to my shop)

The photos above are also available at Fine Art America as:
art prints • canvases • cards • cell phone cases • framed art
(click here)

If you'd like to see more of my photographs,

please visit CindyGarberIverson.com

To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven...

More than anything else, the process of creating and maintaining my garden as a backyard wildlife habitat has taught me the true meaning of the wisdom found in the Old Testament of the Bible in Ecclesiastes chapter 3:

"To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven: a time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted; a time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up; a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance; a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing; a time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away; a time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak..."

For almost seven years, I've blogged about the journey that my garden and home have taken me on. It was a season when I needed to write of these things—"a time to speak". Now I am entering a new season of sharing my view of the world through the photographic image without using words—"a time to keep silence".

I want my photographs to not be a reflection of my own experience. I want each of my photographs to tell a different personal story depending on the person looking at the image. My words would simply get in the way. This is also why I am turning off comments. Comments won't be necessary. I want you to simply enjoy the images I share.

Here's to the beginning of a new season!  

I always know it is truly spring when the California poppies bloom

The California poppy is a wildflower that is also the California state flower. I remember first becoming aware of its significance when I was six years old. When I first discovered them, I wanted to pick the flowers so badly. But my mom warned me that it was a special flower that shouldn't be picked if it's within a certain distance from the roadside, because it is the symbol of the state of California. She also wisely explained to me that after I picked one, the flower wouldn't last long and it was better to leave it growing where it was. It was one of the first of many flowers I learned how to enjoy without picking it and taking it home with me.

Now, with my digital camera (or camera-phone) I can "pick" flowers in a different way. I can take the image of a flower home with me and leave the lovely flower behind growing where I found it. This is particularly important when it comes to delicate wildflowers like the California poppy.

Ashley at ProFlowers.com reached out to me and

gave me a heads-up that there's a new post on their blog

giving great tips on how to photograph flowers with your mobile phone 

Click here to head on over there and read more

Thank you Downton Abbey for reminding me of my blessed heritage with your beautiful season finale

Last night, Hubby and I watched the season 4 finale of Downton Abbey. Toward the end of the episode the staff has a day off at the seaside. The scenes were composed and shot simply yet beautifully—directing and cinematography done very well produce such stellar results (as seen below).

During these scenes at the beach, two characters (Mrs. Hughes and Mr. Carson) go wading in the chilly surf. The almost dialogue-free exchange was charming and heartwarming.

I know when I'm watching great television when I have the experience of being emotionally and/or mentally transported to something very personal. And this particular scene did just that. I found myself recalling old family photographs from albums over 100 years old of my great-great grandmother, Jessie Rae Munce, wading in the California surf with her granddaughters and daughter in the summer of 1910.

Jessie was 68 years old in the above photograph. And like the water that the characters on Downton Abbey were wading in, I'm certain that the Pacific waters were quite chilly on Jessie's feet (water temperatures along the northern coast of California are never really warm).

When I found this photograph of Jessie, I fell in love with its candidness and frivolity—a "pull up your skirts girls because no one cares" sort of attitude. It represents an interesting time in history when things were changing. I am certain that my transplanted Scottish grandmother, her daughters, and her granddaughters were right there leading the way here in the San Francisco Bay Area. Their faces in the above photo tell me that. They're modern leanings are also evident in the fact that even though they weren't wealthy, they still had a camera with them at what seems like every family outing and then paid the money to have the film processed and printed.

Today, thanks to that wonderfully produced episode of Downton Abbey, my heart is full of gratitude for so much of what I owe to my incredible forebears.

Jessie and her husband, John, made difficult sacrifices to come to the U.S. from Glasgow, Scotland in the 1870s. John came first, leaving Jessie behind with 4 children. Jessie came later wrangling those 4 children on her own. John's job as a metalworker with a railroad company allowed them to work their way across the United States from the east coast to the west coast having 2 children along the way in New York and Indiana (how hard must that have been for Jessie?). Their last 4 children were born in the San Francisco Bay Area. Their youngest was my great grandfather, William Munce, who ended up marrying Elsie Pump (pictured above) and their oldest was my grandmother (aka Grammy) Elsie Munce (the kid playing in the sand not looking at the camera in the above photo).

It is because of Jessie and John that I can happily say I am a 4th generation Bay Area native. I was privileged to be born a U.S. citizen because of them. I was blessed to love the sea, the beach and the coast because of them. I am certain that I even owe my love of photography to them because of their love of it over 100 years ago.

Yes, I know I've witnessed great television when all this emotion and gratitude can be inspired by it.

Why it's best not to be heavy-handed when it comes to digitally cropping photos

In the last year or so, I've taken on several different projects involving the scanning and digital restoration of family photos for others. Lately, I've been spending my efforts on our own family photos that my mom brought to be in neatly organized albums.

As I've completed small batches of photos, I've been uploading them to a common viewing area ("photostream" in the world of Apple) and all family members have been able to look at them on their iPhones and iPads as well as make comments. I've spent a few evenings this past couple of weeks laughing so hard I couldn't breathe because of the comments flying back and forth over select photos.

The above photo seems innocuous enough right? It's me on my 12th birthday right after the candles have been blown out. I'm guessing the bouquet of zinnias and bachelor buttons were freshly cut from a garden that I remember was burgeoning that year. It seems like just a typical birthday shot right before the cake is cut.

Don't be deceived.

The uncropped version of the photo looks like this...

That "monster" on the right is my four year old brother, photobombing the shot before "photobombing" was even a word.

As everyone in the family exchanged comments back and forth, my brother's comment on this photo was the best by far:

"I look shockingly like Lou Ferrigno in the Incredible Hulk, except I'm not green, have no muscles, and am slightly shorter than him in this pic... but other than that... dead on."

Let's see...

You know... he's right!!!

The moral of the story (there is one believe it or not)
In this world of easy digital editing...

Just in case you can't see the above photo... don’t be too quick to crop a photo. You could inadvertently be cropping out some of the best memories.

Hydrangeas in the palest shade of sky blue

Hydrangeas in the palest shade of sky blue

Leaves the richest of succulent greens

Wicker woven into the simplest of white baskets

Put together they are perfection

The view from up here? It's lovely.

 A rare summer rain comes down gently
Perched high in this room that feels like the treehouse I always wanted as a kid
My long lens sometimes sees more than what my eyes can see.

Sunshine yellow tops of blooming fennel as high as an elephant's eye...
A blossom on the 'Tahitian Sunset' rosebush that's grown into a hedge...
The curve of the wing of a turkey vulture soaring overhead.

If I open all the windows
The warm moist summer air will blow gently through my treehouse
Fluttering the curtains that conceal me so nature doesn't know I'm here.
I'll leave the windows closed
And remain hidden from her view.

Lavender, Japanese water iris, and one little worker bee

At the base of the deck stairs there are two large terra cotta pots--one on each side. In each pot is a single massive globe of lavender. The pots sit on the ground so each of the lavender bushes have most assuredly sent tap roots down through their respective drainage holes by now and firmly rooted themselves where they sit. Winter frosts are not severe enough to kill their foliage, so they are growing year round. Sometimes in the winter they are the only thing blooming in the garden.

If I sit at the base of the stairs (which I often do), I can sit and watch a plethora of activity in either of the lavender plants. Bees, butterflies, flies, wasps and even hummingbirds come to sip the nectar from the tiny lavender blossoms.

The other morning, I was sitting on the lowest stair with my camera. On schedule, the tall grasses that I've let grow tall (probably too tall) have changed from a spring green to a pale golden blonde color. That means it's summer. The color of the lavender blooms against the grass in the background looked so magical to me in the clear sunshine. I wanted to see if I could capture that magic.

Every once in a while I'd see if I could catch a bee on one of the blossoms, but they darted from one blossom to the other so fast I couldn't focus quickly enough. So I gave up. I was content capturing the lavender.

Before I went inside I walked across the path to take a couple of shots of the new Japanese water iris bloom that had emerged deep dark and regal in its purple majesty.

It wasn't until today when I sat down to post-process my shots that I discovered that I had captured a perfectly in focus shot of bee completely by accident. Just one shot. That's all. It only takes just one. I had no idea that I had gotten that shot when I took it. It was what I call "photographic serendipity"--a fleeting magical moment that I just happened to capture with my camera.

As I look at the three shots in this post, I am struck by some observations...

The Japanese water iris is a showy flower that grabs attention before anything else. It stands in a proud pose as if it wants to be photographed. I could see it from the other side of the garden. I was drawn in by it. Most flower photographers would immediately gravitate toward it with their cameras and shoot away.

Then there's the delicate, humble and understated lavender. Although one stalk is lovely, the real beauty happens when the stalks are all together. En masse the purple stalks create a lovely show against the straw background.

But, to me, the most engaging photograph of the three is the one with the solitary bee flying away from the camera. One little bee. She's not fancy or showy. She's just a little worker bee. But her presence in the composition makes it magical.

In this world there people who are Japanese water irises. They are people that draw your attention immediately because of their sheer beauty. They are few and far between.

In this world there are many more people who are lavender. They are humble and understated. The trials of life are all around them but winter's trials don't take them down. They just keep going. Alone they may not have a great impact--at first glance. But when these wonderful individuals come together they can create amazing beauty--wonderful beautiful acts of kindness, charity, and compassion that can move mountains.

And, also in this world, there are people who are the plain worker bees. They are small. They go about their work with determination and often without accolades or recognition. But... one little worker bee can make a difference. One little worker can change the overall picture without even knowing it. One little worker bee can create magic.

This is dedicated to all the "lavender people" and "little worker bee people" right now in Oklahoma.

Early blooming rudbeckia... why couldn't I have been like you?

A patch of rudbeckia blooms early this year--probably because it overwintered quite well and didn't have to play catch up.

How I wish I didn't always feel like I was always playing catch up.

I listen to podcasts of accomplished creative twenty-somethings. I often find myself thinking, "Why couldn't I have been that together at that age? Why couldn't I see what I really wanted... no, needed to be?"

Old enough to be a mother to many of them, I feel like I'm only beginning to emerge...

A reluctant late-bloomer, I feel so behind.

Self-talk riddled with "should have's" clogs my thoughts. Hubby says I'm "should-ing" all over myself. He's right. I know it. Yet I can only make the "should-ing" go away for short periods of time before it's back jamming up my creative senses to the point where I can't hear anything but their clamor.

It is then that I retreat to photography...

Eight years ago, it was photography that pulled me from the dark abyss I had entered when I abandoned all creative and artistic pursuits and swore I wouldn't try again. After 10 years of trying to "make it", I had been rejected by so many gatekeepers and curators of the world of creative professionals that I couldn't do it anymore. I had determined I was not talented enough or educated enough to rub shoulders with those that called themselves "professional artists". I figured I had missed the boat by not getting my act together in my early twenties. I concluded it was my own stupid fault and, despite the ache inside, I had to accept this self-imposed sentence. I was bruised and my dreams had been crushed so many times, I decided to quash them altogether.

But eight years ago, walking along a beach on the north shore of Oahu with a little Sony Cybershot digital camera in my hand, I let my photographic passion come out to play. The place (one I consider to be a personal safe haven), the moment and nature combined forces and reached out to the part of me locked deep inside--so deep I thought it wasn't there anymore. There was enough of a spark to start a small flame, and as I allowed myself to fan the flame it grew progressively brighter as the months passed.

In the years since then, I've often thought that photography was just the entry point to get me back on the creative track.

But maybe I'm wrong...  maybe photography is my destination and not a stop along the journey.

Maybe that is why when the "should-ing" in my head becomes overwhelming, I retreat to photography and not drawing or painting.

When I look at it that way, then I don't feel so far behind. I don't feel like such a late bloomer. I don't feel out of step or weighed down with thoughts of, "You should have done something long before now..."

Why? I don't know. It just is. And photography takes me there.

Snip and snails and... dragonfly tails. That's what little boys are made of (and some girls too)

I was sitting on my brother's couch when my 11-year-old nephew sidled up beside me. Calmly he said, "I found something really cool floating in the swimming pool... but you may not think it's cool..." his voice trailed off a bit.

"Really?" I asked with all sincerity. He had my full attention. Rarely does he deem anything as "cool" let alone "really cool", and I know if he does, it almost always involves some sort of wildlife (a boy after my own heart).

"What is it?" I asked inquisitively.

"I found a dragonfly floating in the deep end of the pool. It's this big," he indicated with his fingers a large find.

"Is it still alive?" I asked.

"Maybe... I don't know... probably not..." he replied.

"What color is it?" I was thoroughly intrigued both in the dragonfly he had found and the fact that this normally unassuming, quiet, and cerebral boy had initiated the conversation with me instead of the other way around.

"He's kinda brown," his eyes twinkled with the delight of a boy who has found someone who loves bugs as much as he does.

"Where is it? Your dragonfly is going to be the first thing I photography with something new I got!" I was already headed to my tote bag in the hall and talking over my shoulder.

It was he who was intrigued now. He followed me to my bag as I extracted my latest fun acquisition still in the unopened package. I had thrown it in "just in case" and, at this moment, I was so glad I did.

I showed him as I unpackaged it (dropping my iPhone in the process--good thing it was in a case) and explained, "This is an Olloclip. It clips onto my iPhone so I can take close-up macro photos of things that are small. I want to try it out on the dragonfly you found!"

I clipped the lens onto the corner of my iPhone over the top of the built-in lens, and he led me to the dragonfly that had been carefully and lovingly laid out on a paper towel by his mom (my sister) in a shoebox to make a safe journey home with them later in the day.

He stood and watched as I gingerly dragged the paper towel to get the perfect indirect light from the kitchen window and began shooting. I was amazed at the details I was catching--details my eyes couldn't see. We both ooo'ed and aah'ed with each capture. Pretty soon we had an audience as other family members wanted to know what all the excitement by the kitchen sink was about.

After I felt like I'd captured every angle, the dragonfly was placed reverently back into its shoebox. Neither he nor I were happy about the dragonfly's demise. We never said it, but we both knew the other was thinking it. Also unspoken, was the sentiment that somehow by appreciating the beauty of this fascinating creature and honoring it through careful study, it's untimely death wouldn't have been in vain.

We stood afterwards and carefully reviewed on the iPhone what the macro lens had seen that we could not--the tiny perfect serration on each wing-edge and the luminescent panes of gossamer film. It is moments like this that remind me to strive to always see the world the way a child sees it.

I am not affiliated with the company that produces the Olloclip or Apple that produces the iPhone. 
I was not compensated for anything written in this post in products, services or monetary funds.
I simply wrote about them because they are cool.

Cherry parfait roses and Instagram

Hubby is even more of a techie geek than I am (yes, that is possible), so he's often an early adopter of new technology in the world of social media. When Twitter entered the scene, Hubby was there signing on with an early account. When Google+ was there to challenge Facebook's share of the market, Hubby was signing up for an account. So, it stands to reason, when Instagram first made it's debut, Hubby was there with an early account. After he "played" with each one to see if it had value, he would encourage me to sign up for my own account on each.  I have often ended up being a "semi-early" adopter through his influence. In the case of Instagram, I was excited about it until Facebook bought the company. That soured me on the idea and I removed the app from my iPhone...

...until a couple of weeks ago.

I was at the wedding of two good friends who are great amateur photographers and Instagram users. At regular intervals throughout the reception, Hubby was taking photos with his iPhone and then post-processing them on the spot. Periodically, he'd show me his creations. Then he'd quickly post them to Instagram. I was intrigued. So I started playing with taking some photos at the reception. I had to load the Instagram app back on my iPhone so I could play with post-processing photos I was taking. Before I knew it, I found myself deeply immersed in the creatively inspirational world of Instagram.

This isn't the first time this has happened.

Several years ago, I had a similar phenomenon happen when I was corresponding with a fellow photographer blogger, Jen at Muddy Boot Dreams, whose work I greatly admire. She offhandedly mentioned how much of an inspiration the Flickr community was for her creativity. I took her advice and joined the world of Flickr. She was right. I found myself feeling like I was in a master's class of photography on a global scale. It was wonderfully inspiring for me and pushed me in my work and my creative eye. I ended up adopting new techniques of post-processing which led to me finding a completely new way of digitally painting my photos. It opened up a whole creative world for me. All because I acted on the advice of a fellow blogger.

I am finding that Instagram is doing the same for me. I am pushing my photographic eye and my creativity at just the right time when I feeling like I needed to be more creatively challenged.

There are some Instagrammers (IG'ers) who are iPhone only contributors that are really pushing themselves creatively. I have to admit, I'm not quite that brave... yet. My Instragram gallery is a mixture of shots from my DSLR cameras and iPhone. Maybe someday I'll take the brave leap into iPhone only.

For now, I'm thrilled to be discovering the work of some really brilliant IG'ers. Some are also bloggers, so I've gotten the bonus of discovering some beautiful blogs along this journey!

If you'd like to join me on Instagram click here

The roses featured in this post are "Cherry Parfait" all from the same bush. This is the most spectacular display it's put on since I planted it probably about 4 or so years ago.

The permanence of a handful of tiny white shells

When I see the small white canister covered in scrollwork on my shelf I know what's inside--tiny little seashells as big as my pinky fingernail. All of them are a pearly white except one.

This little canister has been around for as long as I can remember. And I've always known what it contained. It has always been so.

I remember it being one of the precious treasures found in one of my mom's dresser drawers--the jewelry and scarf drawer. This treasure, along with a solid cedar jewelry box full of sparkly baubles priceless only to a child, fascinated me. I never got in trouble going into the drawer and poking about. I usually left things the way I found them once I was done. I loved the woody-musky aroma of cedar that permeated everything in the drawer--especially the soft chiffon scarves I would wrap around my head or neck or hold up to my nose to breathe the scent in deeply. Often, I would pick up the canister and lightly shake it to hear the faint rattle of the shells inside. Very rarely, I opened it to see them. I was mostly satisfied just knowing they were there.

I don't know where the shells came from. I don't know how old they are. I just know they've always been there.

Now the canister is mine. It sits on a shelf in my studio above my head as I type this. It is a silly treasure only precious and priceless to me.

I rarely open it. I sometimes shake it lightly to hear the shells inside. I'm satisfied knowing they are still there.

Yesterday, I opened them and gently let them spill out onto my worktable so I could photograph them. One fell on the floor, and I couldn't see it right away. I searched for it frantically as if a 2 karat diamond had fallen from my grasp. I found it camouflaged in the pattern of my area rug. Whew! I placed it with the others. I took the photographs and then carefully put them all back in and screwed the top on tight.

Now I can look at the shells any time I want by looking at the photograph. Or I can reach up and gently shake the canister on the shelf above me. Either way, I'll be content knowing they are there.

Orchids and dragonflies

There are many things I can grow in my garden, but one thing I can't grow is orchids.

However, my mom (who lives in a different micro-climate in the Bay Area) has the good fortune of having the perfect sheltered outdoor setting to grow cymbidium orchids where they are sheltered from frost in the winter and the hot rays of the sun in summer.

I was beyond delighted yesterday when she dropped by our cottage for a visit and brought me a sprig of yellow cymbidium orchid buds beginning to bloom!

Today, I took the opportunity to photograph them. In my mind, I could see the exact framing I wanted... the lighting... everything. It was just a matter of replicating what I saw in my head. Sometimes that's pretty difficult. Fortunately, this time the process of converting my mental image to a photograph wasn't too bad.

And once I got the photographing done, of course I had to "play" and create a digitally painted photo with it that I could use as the base for a new stationery design.

I wanted a sort of "zen" feel to the finished image... something restful with a strong sense of nature woven through it in a subtle way. As I worked on it, I decided that dragonflies were a must. I used a very old Japanese silk painting for reference and drew minimalist dragonflies to overlay faintly in the background. Little by little it took shape until I was seeing on the computer screen something similar to the image from my head. When I can successfully make that transition it makes all the painstaking effort worth it.

The above image is available as a free e-card or e-vite at pingg

This image is also available on customizable printed invites

Another lesson learned from nature: even hummingbirds can look chubby in photos

My photogenic hummingbird friend was completely unaware that she was the focus of my photo shoot as she sipped nectar from the blossoms of the Eureka lemon. I liked the back-lighting effect from the late evening summer sun, so I turned on my speed shutter and snapped away.

It wasn't until I got back in the studio to post-process the photos on the computer that I made an interesting discovery. Look at the adorable shot I managed to catch as she flew away...

I had to giggle. The graceful sleek little hummingbird looks like she has a backside that's quite chubby. I know she really doesn't. But the angle of the photo makes her look like she does.

A valuable lesson for those of us that hate to see ourselves in photos... photos don't necessarily reflect reality. They can even make a hummingbird have a "bad side".

Introducing... The Merrilee Esther Nature Collection

Last Friday night, Hubby and I went out to dinner with a couple whom I hadn't met yet in person although Hubby had. We sat in a cozy local Italian place chatting and eating delicious authentic Italian food. It was one of those meetings when I felt like I really hadn't met someone new. It helped that because of Hubby we had been Facebook friends prior to the dinner. But there was something else in the ease in which the conversation flowed. It was very nice.

One of my newfound friends is the reason for this new collection I'm featuring. Like me, Merrilee is a nature lover through and through. And she graciously asked if I would like to offer some of her nature photography as free digital downloads at the Rosehaven Cottage Digital Download Shop. Of course I said yes!

Named after her, The Merrilee Esther Nature Collection will hopefully grow over time. The first set Bark and Branches and the second set Water and Waves are now available to download for FREE to use as desktop images, scrapbooking backgrounds, Photoshop textures or anything else creative you can think up. You can pick and choose which ones you want to download out of each set.

To receive announcements when future sets are released, "like" Rosehaven Cottage Inc. on Facebook or follow Rosehaven Cottage Inc. on Twitter.


Oh... and by the way... Merrilee is also the proprietor of Life Is But A Dream - Cupcakes and More. Click below to see some of her delectable desserts.

Autumn in the Rosehaven Cottage gardens: Sun's last rays

Digitally painted photo

In between the much-needed rain showers we've been receiving this week, I took the time to duck out into the garden and take some photos of the last vestiges of summer as well as the first signs of autumn.

Summer lasts longer and autumn comes later here in our climate. Sunflowers are a flower of August, September and October for me. This lovely is one of the last bunch blooming in the shaggy front garden that is in dire need of a "haircut".

Until the last heatwaves end and the autumn rains come in the latter part of October, the garden has to remain on the shaggy side to conserve water and prevent burn that could occur on newly trimmed roses and other bushes. The uncut fennel and sunflowers going to seed on their heady high stalks make for lovely natural bird feeders where finches, oak titmice and bushtits feed on their delectable seeds. The birds' flitting provides copious entertainment for the indoor kitties as they peer out the large living room picture window. With noses almost touching the glass their teeth chatter and whiskers twitter silently as they enjoy the show.

Over the next few posts, I'll be showing more vignettes of what this unique seasonal transition looks like in our gardens here at Rosehaven Cottage.

The above image is available in fine art prints and canvases by clicking here

Pearls of color filled with air

Digitally painted photograph

The above image is available in fine art prints and photographs by clicking here

Behind the Scenes with Sachi

My brother and his wife have an adorable purebred Shiba Inu puppy named Sachi. Shiba's are a Japanese breed so her name, Sachi, is a Japanese name that means "girl child of joy, bliss, happiness or good fortune". At 16 weeks old, Sachi lives up to her name in a big way! Although capturing video of her is pretty easy, getting portrait photos of her can be a bit challenging.

I wanted to show how I worked my "magic" using Photoshop (PS) to take a run-of-the-mill chance shot of Sachi sitting still, and turned it into multiple versions of one of her first portraits.

To begin, I'll show you the shot SOOC ("straight out of the camera")...



Taking photos in indirect sunlight is good, but it can cause color issues. You can see there is a blue tint to the photo. This is caused by inappropriate white balance. Don't be scared off at this point... the term "white balance" describes something very basic. It simply means what the camera sees as true white. For a realistic photo, the goal is to get the camera to see white things in the shot as true white, because it uses that as the baseline for color balance throughout the other colors in the shot. Most digital cameras have auto white balance settings, but still they can be off (as seen above).

But never fear...

Clicking the shutter to take the shot with a digital camera is really only half the work. The other half happens once the shot is brought back to my computer and downloaded for me to do post-processing. Since I shoot in RAW format, the camera doesn't process any of the data it records when I click the shutter. It just records it so I can download the RAW data into my computer and tweak to my heart's content within a post-processing program (I use Camera RAW because it came with PS, but most pro's use Adobe Lightroom). I can do post-processing on images I shoot in jpg format but I get the most flexibility with RAW.

So with a bit of tweaking with the color balance, I can bring the colors out of the blue range and back to what it looked like in person...



You probably noticed that there's something else different in the shot above from the original. Sachi isn't wearing her harness or leash anymore. It really is the same shot... I promise. I used the patch tool in PS CS5 to carefully remove the harness and leash. Normally, I use PS CS3 for everything because the user interface is more friendly to my needs. But PS CS5 has a powerful "content aware" ability to patch things like this. So in this case, I pulled the image into PS CS5 temporarily to do the patch work, and then brought it back into PS CS3 to play and finish up. For less complex patching, I just stay in PS CS3.

The next step is what I call "playing" with PS actions. Actions are a way for a PS user to record a long list of steps they've performed so they can use them later or share them with others. I've collected a few actions from various users that share via their blogs or websites. I often will take a shot and run action after action on it to see the results I get--hence the term "playing". As long as I've saved the file up to the point that I start running actions, nothing is permanent and I can undo anything I don't like. It's really fun to watch the image as it goes through the action script and wonder how it will look when it's done.



For the shot above, I used the PS action "Soft Autumn Glow" by Rita at Coffee Shop Photography. I really like Rita's actions because Rita writes her actions so that the layers aren't merged once the script is done. That way I can go back and tweak any layer and customize for the specific image I'm working with.



For the shot above, I used Omar the Radwan's "Lomo Effect" action (another fave resource of mine). His lomo effect action always produces a cool, dramatic, and edgy look. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn't. I never know until I run the action. [If you're wondering what the "lomo effect" is, click here for a great wikipedia write-up.]

Sometimes, I decide that I really want to get in there and be creative with a shot. That's when I break out my Wacom Cintiq digital tablet, my textures, and my drawing skills.



In PS, I can stack layers on top of the original image much like I'd put tissue paper over the top of a real print to trace it. My Cintiq lets me draw or erase directly on the image just like I'm holding a sketchbook. So I use my stylus like a pencil to "draw" and "paint" the image as I erase away textures that I've put on top of the original image.

I used a number of textures for the piece above--working one layer completely before adding another. I have my own library of textures but I also use the textures of others creatives that generously share through flickr. I used textures from playingwithbrushes and swimmingintheether.

I also used the burn and dodge tools on the original image layer to brighten up whites or darken shadows to get the painted or pastel effect.

Finally, I cropped the final "formal" portrait so that it would print at 11x14. Digital cameras shoot in non-standard sizes, so I think about that if I'm doing something for someone else that will possibly need a standard size for framing.