![\"'Studebaker'](\"https:\/\/gpbookstore.org\/articles\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/07\/lisa_faire_graham_embed.jpg\")
It had been more than a year since I\u2019d had surgery to repair the detached retina in my left eye, but I still couldn\u2019t see clearly. Things were fuzzy, indistinct, like what a nearsighted person sees without glasses. Not the sharp vision I needed to pursue my retirement dream of being an artistic photographer<\/a>, the kind whose work gets published in photography magazines.<\/p>\n My passion was shooting high-definition, crystal-clear images that reveal the hidden beauty in everyday objects, the beauty I\u2019d believed God wanted me to uncover. I knew both my parents wanted to encourage me, but no amount of encouragement was going to change the fact that even through my camera\u2019s viewfinder, I couldn\u2019t make out details well enough to focus and frame a shot properly. I hadn\u2019t even wanted to pick up a camera lately.<\/p>\n Still, I didn\u2019t have the heart to tell Dad no. \u201cSure, I\u2019ll photograph the Studebaker,\u201d I said. Maybe with a subject as big as a truck, I\u2019d be able to pull off something. Was God giving me another chance<\/a>? Or was he going to ask me to give up my dream?<\/p>\n My problems had started in 2005, with a retinal detachment<\/a> in my right eye. Even after surgery, my vision in that eye was limited. Fortunately, with my \u201cgood\u201d left eye, I could still do my job in the defense industry and take photos for fun. I retired in 2012, excited at last to dive into photography in a big way. My husband, Bill, was thrilled for me.<\/p>\n I\u2019d loved taking pictures since my parents gave me my first camera, an Instamatic<\/a>, at age 10. When I was 14, my friend Sandi taught me to how to be a photographer. She owned a 35mm camera, and even as a teenager she had photographed weddings and special events in our small Florida hometown.<\/p>\n She loaned me her Pentax and gave me suggestions on composition, settings and technique while we walked around the neighborhood. One day, she directed me to take photos of an old fence post.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m not wasting film on that,\u201d I said to her.<\/p>\n \u201cShoot it,\u201d she said. \u201cIt\u2019s my camera.\u201d<\/p>\n Only when the prints came back was I able to see what Sandi had seen. The weathered grooves in the wood, the climbing ivy, even the bugs crawling over the surface\u2026 The tiniest details jumped out at me. Amazing! It gave me the shivers in a good way, like learning in Sunday school <\/a>that God delighted in every detail of our lives.<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019ve passed that fence post hundreds of times,\u201d Sandi said. \u201cPhotography is about having an eye for things most people miss.\u201d<\/p>\n In retirement, I finally had time to devote to photography again. I subscribed to photography magazines and admired the artistry <\/a>and crispness of the images. \u201cI want to have a photo published in one of those magazines someday,\u201d I said to Bill.<\/p>\n \u201cGo for it!\u201d he said.<\/p>\n Bill, my mom and I went on a 200-mile trek around the small towns of central Florida, where we\u2019d grown up. Bill is a general contractor who\u2019s great at noticing interesting details in the built environment. I spent days capturing images of handmade brick roads near Espanola, sand pines and palmettos in the Ocala National Forest, the orange groves heavy with fruit, the car ferry at the St. John\u2019s River.<\/p>\n Sandi died in 2014. I spoke at her memorial service about how she\u2019d inspired me to look for the beauty in the ordinary. Her death reminded me that life is precious and made me even more motivated in my photography.<\/p>\n Less than a year later, the retina in my left eye detached and I had emergency surgery. I was terrified that I would end up near blind. I begged God to save my vision.<\/p>\n When the eye patch came off and I could see, Bill and my parents rejoiced with me. But as several months passed and the fuzziness in my vision, both near and far, didn\u2019t clear up, the joy leaked out of me. Mom reminded me the doctor had said healing<\/a> could take up to six months.<\/p>\n I couldn\u2019t wait that long. I had to try using my camera. Bill took me to one of my favorite spots, a beach on Lake Minneola. The late-afternoon sun was soft, highlighting the planks of the old dock. I tried to compensate for my blurry vision by adjusting my camera\u2019s diopter. But when I uploaded the photos to my computer, I had to enlarge them 70 percent just to make out what I had shot. The images were a letdown\u2014not crisp at all.<\/p>\n The same thing happened on subsequent shoots. I\u2019d read in my magazines about editing software, how it could be used to deepen or lighten colors, remove shadows, change almost anything about a photo. Surely there was a way to make the images razor sharp. To give them exquisite detail that jumped off the pages. I\u2019d used computers most of my career. I figured I could teach myself how to use the software.<\/p>\n It was harder than I\u2019d imagined. After watching hours of instructional videos, I could do a passable job of \u201cpainting\u201d a photo a new color, but sharpening the image? I wasn\u2019t happy with anything I tried.<\/p>\n One day, I decided to work on a photo I\u2019d shot years earlier of an antique typewriter<\/a>. I hadn\u2019t used a flash, and the lighting was poor. On my computer, I increased the brightness and added an oil paint effect.<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s so cool,\u201d Bill said. \u201cIt looks like it\u2019s on fire.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBut it\u2019s not photography!\u201d I said, unable to contain my frustration. \u201cI want to shoot photos that are sharp, like I used to. To document God\u2019s hand at work<\/a>.\u201d I\u2019d passed the six-month post-surgical mark by then, and my doctor had said my visual acuity was the best it was going to get.<\/p>\n Maybe God was telling me to be thankful for the healing I\u2019d been granted<\/a> and to move on. Maybe it was time for me to accept that my dream was dead. I didn\u2019t touch the photo-editing program for months. My camera sat unused in its bag. Then came Dad\u2019s call about the Studebaker.<\/p>\n The rusted-out truck, its oversize tire shields mired in mud, sat far back in the woods, covered in vines. I stomped around the tall swampy grass, swatting mosquitos, shooting from every angle imaginable. The deep shade made the lighting tricky, but it felt good to be doing something creative again.<\/p>\n I went home and reviewed the shoot on my computer. My heart sank. I\u2019d taken 300 photos, and every single one had problems. Strange shadows. Images out of focus. Awkward angles. I\u2019d made a total mess of it. That\u2019s it,<\/em> I thought. I\u2019m finished.<\/em><\/p>\n When I told Bill about my disappointing results, he said, \u201cWhat if you tried something like what you did with that typewriter photo? I bet that would look amazing!\u201d<\/p>\n Bill just didn\u2019t get it. I pointed to my stack of photography magazines. \u201cI want to shoot crisp, clear photos, like the ones in those,\u201d I said. \u201cOut of 300 shots, I ought to be able to get one right.\u201d<\/p>\n Bill gazed at me for a long moment. \u201cWhy are you trying to make your work look like someone else\u2019s?\u201d he said. \u201cGod has given you a chance to do something original, to express your creativity.<\/a> Reframe your limitations. Look at this in a different light.\u201d<\/p>\n Here was a message I could understand. Landscape photographers return to the same location numerous times because variations in light can give an image a completely different look and feel. There are countless ways to capture a single subject. Why had I thought there was only one way for me to be a photographer?<\/p>\n I went back to learning editing software, experimenting with different effects until it became second nature. Bill suggested I print the typewriter photo on metal instead of canvas, adding a whole new layer of expression<\/a> to it. That photo won second place in a state competition.<\/p>\n I chose the photo of the Studebaker I liked most and enhanced it, adding more color, vibrancy and texture, playing with the light to bring out the green in the vines, while allowing the truck itself to stay in softer focus. The effect was dreamlike. Definitely one of a kind. And beautiful in a way I would never have seen or appreciated before. Dad loved it. It seemed as if everyone who saw it knew of another old car for me to photograph. Bill and I started going on photo treks again, working as a team. I\u2019ve got the creative vision; Bill sees details I miss.<\/p>\n My photos have been displayed in galleries, prestigious art festivals, municipal buildings, even the Florida Museum of Photographic Arts. I\u2019ve won competitions and seen my work published in magazines. More recognition than I\u2019d ever expected.<\/p>\n