Pieces of Little Pond

March 28th, 2012

Yesterday I was early for my gathering at Little Pond. I decided to take a walk up to the top of the hill. There’s magic up there – universal connection.

As I stood and took a good deep breath, I heard the turkeys calling in the distance. I heard the wind whistling through the trees. I felt the warmth of the sun on my body.

As I walked down the hill, I decided to bring out the one piece of technology I seem to have attached to me often – my camera (via iPhone). I photographed some of the character I noticed on my journey back down the hill and wanted to share it with you.

Please enjoy the pieces of Little Pond I offer you.



Structure and Form

November 4th, 2011

Several years ago, walking in the park with my lab, Max, I found an antler drop.  It was the first one I ever found.  I remember staring at it for what felt like hours and then holding it, turning it, feeling it.  I felt the points.  I felt the roughness of where the antler detached.  I felt how the bone it is made of carries the balance of both smooth and rough texture.  I felt the strength of the antler and knew how it was unquestionable.  It’s just such a magnificent piece of nature that I was gifted to find.

It carries special memories for me b/c I found it with Max.  I decided to spend some time with it behind the lens to pull out the essence of the antler from my point of view.

I hope you enjoy the photographs.



Dunnfield Creek

September 1st, 2011

I’m drawn to water.  The sound, the smell, the site of a flowing stream – of a resting pond.  I recently purchased a neutral density filter so I could photograph water while slowing it down – creating an affect that’s absolutely ethereal.

As I arrived at Dunnfield Creek.  I came upon the crystal clear mountain water running smoothly through the curvature of the landscape and navigating over and around the rocks and branches.  I entered the creek a close distance from the foot bridge.  I walked gently through the water waiting to find a place that felt right – that looked ideal for the type of photographs I wanted to create.

As I came upon the area of the creek that became my resting point, the sun, which was being filtered by small passing clouds throughout most of the morning, peeked through.  This was not the right time to open the shutter.    I wanted to wait for another cloud – another filter for the sun.

As I waited, I listened.  I heard the water running against its barriers.  I heard the birds singing their song.  I heard the wind whisper in my ear.  This is my serenity.

Once the clouds found their way between the sun and myself again, I opened the shutter.  Some seconds later, it was complete.  The moments of peace and serenity captured in time – for me – and for you…


August 16

August 16th, 2011

August 16th, 1985, I was told my father had died in an accident. He drown in the Atlantic Ocean while we were living in Atlantic City. The event, as could be expected, was extremely traumatic for me and put me on a path that was unexpected and frightening. I have learned many things through the years and have been through anger, fear, grief, and the complete spectrum of emotion that surrounded me with this tragedy and loss.

Over many, many years (and a lot of introspection), I have come to embrace his death with acceptance and grace. I have shared quiet moments when I sense his presence. I have shared moments with friends when I’m reminded of the pain I still feel. The gift through it all is that, as I continue to move through life, there are many things that remind me of him.

Now that I am a father, I see more of him. I see how things he has done affected me and how things he has done affect my son through me. He continues to live through me in that way. I have seen things in my father I swore I would not repeat. I have also learned things from him, in the joyous moments, that I will share with my son and celebrate.

Through it all, there are many times when I still miss him. I miss who I wanted him to be; for me and for Nicholas. It’s those times that are the heaviest for me. Those times pull at my heart and soul and open up the ocean of sadness that I thought would be covered up by now by some mountain of healing and wisdom.

So this brings me to my photographs…When I see the ocean – When I hear it – When I smell it – it holds memory for me. It holds mystery, loss, power, pain, love, tenderness, oneness…

Recently, I was near the area where he died. I created these three photographs in memory of him – because I still love him…I always will.

In Memory of Frank G. Tapler Jr.


Your son,



Water and leaves

July 13th, 2011

Photographing in nature, for me, is like meditating.  I find peace searching for, composing, and creating an image.  If I’m near the creek or river, its the sound of the water that brings me comfort.  If I’m walking the fields or woods, the leaves blowing with the wind create a sound that soothes my soul.  Below is some recent work from some nearby places.  Enjoy.


Why Black and White

June 14th, 2011

Recently, on Facebook, I posted a photograph of an orchid.  I was asked why I made the colorful photograph black and white.  Truth is, I was curious.  I was curious how much beauty would be retained if you pulled away the color.  I was curious how the textures would be represented without the red, yellow and pink hue’s.

After spending some more time with the question I found interest in seeing color differently – looking past it – looking through it.  I was challenged to look at the structure of my subject…the essence. Here are some images that I hope you enjoy.



June 1st, 2011

I’ve been wanting to photograph my mother for quite some time (she’s the one on the right).  To get her in the studio is a daunting task.  I had the opportunity recently at a gathering taking place at my brothers’ home.  It took just a bit of schmoozing to get her to stand still for a shot.  Once I photographed her, I was convinced I had to photograph my brother’s mother-in-law (who also happened to be there).  Then, as the universe would have it, my wife’s grandmother came to visit and I asked to take a photograph of her.

These women have been through journey’s in their lives that would bring many men and women to tears.  Their stories are filled with joy, pain, creation, loss and so much more.  I would be kidding myself if I would say that I can capture all of their life experience in a photograph.  I am convinced, however, I provide you with a sense of respect, compassion, and honor for these women through the honesty of these photographs.


Color and Texture

May 26th, 2011


There has been a tremendous amount of research on how color affects human beings. Color affects us emotionally, with different colors evoking different emotions.


Texture refers to the surface quality or “feel” of an object. Textures may be actual (felt with touch – tactile) or implied (suggested by the way an artist has created the work of art -visual).


Self Defeat

May 20th, 2011

Through my experience with The Human Spirit, I have come to witness many traits each one of has the capability of possessing.  Recently, I photographed a man who wanted to express how, through his anger, he creates self defeating behaviors.  Knowing him I was familiar with his skills as a martial artist.  Working together, we created images that express his behavior in a way that fit perfectly for him.


When we are angry, and aim to harm others, what we are really doing is harming ourselves.  When we embrace the anger and look deeper into its’ roots, we discover a part of ourselves that needs healing.  Once we heal this piece of ourselves, we take back the power the anger once held…creating balance in our life.


See the other images of The Human Spirit on the project page.


The Barn

April 6th, 2011

I first noticed The Barn when I would drive to work ‘the back way’.  As I continued to drive by, day in and day out, I saw it stripped down to it’s final pieces – pieces that would be torn away to make room for some townhouses.  I would have much rather the developer put the money back into building the barn – can’t have everything I want, I guess.

I decided to walk around and capture what I saw as the character of The Barn – in the final days of its’ being.  Everything photographed was done so as-is, I moved nothing into place, I simply photographed what was.