Giblets and Photography:

Bogart could have been color blind. He got to know a man before he decided if he liked him or not.

-Sammy Davis, Jr.-

True Fact: Sammy Davis Jr. lost his eye in a car crash in San Bernardino, 1954 returning from Vegas at the split of the I-15 and I-215.

Think "rule of thirds" and think about backgrounds.

Just a few things to think about this holiday week as you’re pulling out the camera (still or video) to torture the family, pets and natural surroundings of your community.

Many, many years ago, I believe it was in Pittsburgh or it could have been Philadelphia “I have a good memory…just short!” It was a “P” town, I do remember that. I sat on a photo judging panel with Sam Abell a talented and wonderful photographer who much of his work has been seen in the pages of National Geographic.

At the time, Mr. Abell talked about the quality of an image’s background and how a background may be more important to the photograph than your initial subject. 

He went on to speak of how he would identify an interesting background and would wait hours, sometimes days for something to happen in front of the background.

I remember the impact that had on me and for years after I kept a note pad in the car to identify interesting elements in the city that might make backgrounds for future photographs.

Think about THIRDS!

One of the most popular elements in painting and later adapted to photography, is the “rule of thirds”.

Imaginary lines are drawn dividing the image into thirds both horizontal and vertical.  You place important elements of your composition where these lines intersect. 

As well as using the intersections you can arrange areas into bands occupying a third or place things along the imaginary lines.

And of course remember that this is just another photo rule that can be broken.

Any time you can introduce disorder into an orderly situation makes life a hoot.

In Memory of our buddy:


Trinity: 1999-2009

I love cats because I enjoy my home; and little by little, they become its visible soul.

-Jean Cocteau-

The worst part was just telling my wife, Anne, that everything was fine and that we had just returned home with the antibiotics that would clear up the problem.

Within seconds of getting off the phone came the call with the news that our buddy was suffering from a far more serious condition.  The first round of blood test had just been completed, and it was conclusive for diabetes.

He would be looking at two insulin injections every day for the rest of his life along with the many trips to give blood and urine to monitor the glucose levels.

“It’s not a death sentence and he could have a few years left. But given his age.” was the word.

Just a couple of months ago we had a close call and a few days in the emergency room with countless test and being hooked up to an intravenous unit.  He didn’t complain but you could tell it took a toll on him. We wonder now if the diagnosis was correct.  I wish animals could talk.

The symptoms appeared very similar, eating like there was no tomorrow; drinking a lake; excessive urination (the lake has to go somewhere).  You could see a bit of weight loss but it was the weakness in the rear legs that broke your heart.

He just looked tired….”rode hard and put away wet.” as they say.

His big buddy “Sage” had passed two years ago.  They had been friends for eight years, Sage a wonderful German Shepard having to learn to be a sister to this new little ball of grey and white fluff.  His little buddy “Emmy” will miss him now.

“Trinity” was not named for the union of the “father, son and holy ghost” but maybe should have been given his temperament and compassion. He was brought home the same week my wife’s mother, Silvia, died;   just a month short of ten years ago and during the holiday.

Isn’t it always during the holiday?

Although my close friend for ten years we just started to really understand each other the past few years and were pretty much inseparable the last few months. 

As I type he now lies near my feet tucked into the space of the old pine roll top desk. It’s been known as his fort for years;  a soft towel for added comfort has been added to warm the wood floor.

We’re loosing another piece of the family and it hurts but  I know that he has friends across the country that have visited the house and will share in our sadness.  They’ll remember with a smile his kind heart and sweet nature.

With the loss of any one close you just try to hold on to the good times and remember the traits they brought to your life to make you a better person.  Trinity  provided many.

Tomorrow he visits Silvia and Grandpa George for the holidays.

“Do you think he knows?” asked Anne.

 Yeah, I think he does.

FAITH is coming: 8X10 format b&w prints


Photographs by Christopher Churchill

Opens Saturday, November 14, 2009

Opening Reception/Artist Talk


Wonderful 8×10 format black and white images on display!

 Preview the exhibit at “fovea exhibitions”

 If you are in the area visit the gallery at

143 Main Street in the town of Beacon, New York


Whiskeycreek, CA. -photo by gary miller-

Ocean of truth lay all Undiscovered:

I was like a boy playing on the sea-shore, and diverting myself now and then finding a smoother pebble or a prettier shell than ordinary, whilst the great ocean of truth lay all undiscovered before me.

-Isaac Newton-



Gary Miller Profile:

Contract Photo Editor,, 2011-2014

Deputy Photo Director, Press-Enterprise, CA 1999-2002

Director of Photography, San Bernardino County Sun, CA 1992-1999

Director of Photography, Des Moines, IA 1990-1992

Photography/Graphics Editor, Salem Statesman Journal,OR 1988-1990

Staff Photographer, Record Serchlight, Redding, CA

Privileged to have worked with talented photographers, graphic art designers and editors as a visual director.-

Additional Relevant Experience

* Judge/Film: 2011 Third Annual Sundial Film Festival,Redding,CA

* Contributor to 2010 “Hauler Magazine” Adam Wright Productions, cycle and hot rods.

* Group Exhibition: 2010 Fovea Exhibitions Beacon, NY “Portraits”

* Volunteer Fovea Exhibitions Gallery, Beacon, NY 2009-2010

* Logistics chairman for American Cancer Society “Run for Life” Redlands, CA

* Senior editor Belo/Press Enterprise for 2000 Democratic Convention in Los


* Senior editor for Gannett News Service and USA TODAY 1998 Winter Olympics in Nagano, Japan.

* Senior editor for USA TODAY at the 1998 Super bowl, San Diego, CA

* Senior editor for Gannett News Service and USA TODAY 1996 Summer Olympics in Atlanta, GA.

Multi-Media Projects: (photo editor and co-design team leader)

 Crisis on Tap: California’s Water

Inland Wildfires:

2008 Freeway Complex Wildfire

2007 Butler 2 Wildfire

2006 Esperanza Wildfire

2003 Wildfires

(note PDF pages for A1-inside design)


Photo by Ed Crisostomo


Meth’s Legacy:


Photo by William Wilson Lewis III


Tough City, Fragile Lives:



Photo by Caitlin M. Kelly

Journey of Love: Mother’s Day in Prison:

Journey of Love copy

“Good-bye..Mom” Photo by Mark Zaleski

Purepecha immigrants living in mobile homes near the Salton Sea


Photo by Amanda Lucidon

Mecca for misery: Farmworkers


Photo by Amanda Lucidon

A Life of Love: Angie Peyton:


Photo by Caitlin M Kelly

You can see to Long Island:


Stonington Point: On a clear day you can see Long Island.

It is somewhat claustrophobic, and it feels like there is just enough room to rub shoulders with the pedestrians peering into the shops as you head east.  Water Street is better suited for a motor scooter, much less an economy SUV navigating through Stonington Village.

Returning one street to the north, Main Street, you will be in the heart of some of the most beautiful and unique homes on the eastern seaboard.  I’m told that there are more buildings on the national historic registry in Stonington than found anywhere in the country.

There is the quaintness that you would expect from a Connecticut fisherman’s village filled with high end shops a crab pot above what you find in neighboring Historic Mystic.

Holding your breath and hugging the curve you pass by the wonderful old town library towards Cannon Square and on to the Lighthouse Museum the destination being Stonington Point. It was the first US lighthouse established in 1823.


“It’s a great view, you can see all the way down to Long Island.” said the owner of the Inne.  He would have been correct on a clear day.

A wonderful Inn in any weather.

The rain was driven by a strong west wind just as we parked in the sandy turn-around and visibility was limited to the first red buoy floating in the churning Atlantic.

The repeated sound of the fog horn made it just eerie enough to expect to see the timbers and sails of a seal schooner crossing the point.  The town gained wealth by being the port of the seal trade where the skins of young clubbed seals started their way to the China fur trade.

The rain picked up just enough to drive the local fisherman off the rocks, warming himself in the battered Honda eyes glued to the rain splattered windshield…must have been looking at the view?

Watch your thoughts:

Photography must connect with the viewer.   At some point there needs to be a sense of emotion and question.


Watch your thoughts, they become your words.

Watch your words, they become your actions.

Watch your actions, they become your habits.

Watch your habits, they become your character.

Watch your character, it becomes your destiny.

-Author Unknown-


I knew it had to happen, and I’ve done my best to resist the urge to venture off the mountain this past week.

As you know from earlier stories, I’m well adapted at living among nature with just the chatter of squirrels and the soft whisper of pines for my entertainment needs.

You can only imagine my surprise when I heard that we were low on dishliquid and this would require a trip to the local A&P.

Dishliquid, good Lord that is not a reason to leave the mountain. Now medical supplies, food or a bottle of “Johnnie Black Label” might be a reason and there are adequate substitutes for the first two.

As I rounded the isle laden with cleaning supplies a well dressed gentleman slammed his cart into an elderly woman reaching for the Mr. Clean nearly dragging her six feet down to brooms and mops.

The sad thing is she “excused” herself and he went along his way muttering under his breath for the inconvenience of slowing his progress.

I don’t understand how individuals make rudeness a way of  life. I do know that I’ve walked that line and try to keep reminders of “respect” close at hand. There needs to be a sense of emotion and question?


A walk through natures studio:

At the end of the day it’s just a bunch of leaves, but the thing is, you have hope that the day never ends.

It was the pervasive feeling driving through Connecticut making the way from Middletown on Highway Nine toward Old Lyme and north on Highway One to Groton and Mystic. The colors are stunning in ways that make them almost too defined to record.

Poets and writers far more eloquent than I have stumbled to find descriptive words that try to meet the measure of nature’s autumn in the northeast.

For those first timers, trying to keep a close check on over romanticizing the season, you do wonder if those who view the color daily take it for granted.

I’d like to believe they don’t.