Category Archives: Things

Light, design, texture and other cool stuff.

Flying My Drone Over Water

I purchased a DJI Phantom 4 drone about two months ago. I’ve been having a great time flying and shooting aerials. I have a lot to learn. The drone has some great features and I’ve only scratched the surface on how to use them.

Here are some shots from a recent trip to Crescent Cove, California.

When we went to Crescent Cove, I was nervous to fly over water. My drone took off and zipped out over the ocean and there was a feeling in the pit of my stomach that nearly compelled me to bring it home before it dropped into the depths and was lost forever. Fortunately, I didn’t bring it right back.

In order to legally fly a drone in the United States, you must register your drone with the FAA and take the FAA part 107 sUAS certification test. The test will not be available until August 29, 2016, but a link to a study guide is available:

There is also a great study guide for those who already have their pilot’s license but want to certify to fly small unmanned aircraft. The link is:

When I purchased my drone, I registered it with the FAA, online, for a cost of $5. It was easy.  I plan to take the FAA Part 107 certification test as soon as it is available.

Even though I’m following all the required regulations, I still get nervous when I fly. I’m not worried about the regs, I’m worried about crashing. I don’t want to loose my drone. I’m hoping that the more I fly the less worried I will be about crashing, but, I know some good pilots who have crashed drones.

The more I fly the more confidence I develop and the better I get. It definitely takes practice and time in the air to gain that confidence. The phantom 4 represents a real investment and I don’t want to loose it, and, I will keep flying in an effort to gain more confidence and skill.

In the meantime, I’m having a great time and capturing some cool images and video. Let me know what you think.

Seal Rock
Waves crash against the rocks as the birds and seals watch the setting sun from Seal Rock, Crescent Cove, California.


2015 Cedar City Art Walk

Cedar City Art Walk Flyer
Cedar City Art Walk June 5 – August 31.

For any passing through Cedar City this summer, please stop by and visit the 2015 Cedar City Art Walk. I’ve been invited to participate in the Gallery Show. My show is in the Southern Utah University Hunter Conference Center. I have ten 16×20 prints on display. The show runs from June 5 through August 31. Another good reason to see the show is that it runs concurrently with the world famous Utah Shakespeare Festival.ShakespeareLogo

Some of these photos have been posted on my blog and some have not. I’ll be posting one a week for the next ten weeks of the show along with a very short story about the photo.

Here’s a bit of info on the Festival:

The Art Walk is a collaboration between artists, business, and galleries in the community. Final Fridays, June 26, July 31 and August 28 from 5:00 – 8:00 pm are gallery strolls that offer participants a change to engage with talented visual artists from Utah. Some locations will have musical performances and receptions.

Cedar City Art Walk
James Dalrymple’s Photography on display at the SUU Hunter Conference Center for the Cedar City Art Walk.

You Shall Not Pass–South African Rhinos

IMG_0454_Rhino Pass_webThe road was rough. The land rover bounced around a corner and there he was, a South African White Rhinoceros, standing guard in the middle of the rutted road. I lurched forward as the guide stopped the vehicle abruptly. The Rhino’s ears twitched. He watched from immovable feet. I held my breath. I could hear a huffing snort and the buzzing of insects.

The guide spoke, “Perhaps we will find another way.”

The land rover jerked in reverse. The Rhino stared at us, unblinking.

You Shall Not Pass.


African Elephants

The Range Rover bounced through the trees like the Indiana Jones ride at Disneyland, then, mercifully, stopped. Our guide shut off the engine. I could hear the ticking of hot stressed metal. My body was just as stressed. I may have developed a tick.

Over there.

I could see him, hiding, a giant bull elephant, trying, it seemed to me, to be inconspicuous.

I began taking photographs. Through the lens, the elephant looked annoyed. With crunching footsteps, he lumbered out of the trees into the open, staring at us. We stared back at him. He came closer. Closer. CLOSER. I reached for a wider lens.

Hold very still, our guide whispered. He reached for his rifle.

The giant elephant stopped, three feet away. I could hear him panting. Snorting. I could SMELL him. VERY BAD BREATH.

From my open seat in the Range Rover, he was massive. His tusks were stained red near the sharpened points. He looked down at me with huge, tired eyes.

What are you doing here?

I came to see you.

He sniffed, his snake-like trunk sampling the air around me. His giant eyes blinked. I could see myself reflected in their rich, deep brown. He looked…sad, maybe. Resignedly tolerant, perhaps. Proud, certainly.

He moved on.

I realized that the pounding I could hear was my heart, not his footsteps.

Our guide put down his gun and started the Range Rover. The roar of the engine shattered the quiet surrounding us and we moved on.

Rockport Harbor, Maine

I’d been in Rockport for a week and hadn’t seen much of anything, outside of the Maine Media Workshop campus. The workshop was over and I was going home. I wanted to see the harbor. I’d heard about it, for years. Rockport Harbor was sort of the icon for New England coastal beauty. I’d heard it said, “Can’t get there from here” (spoken with a heavy Maine accent), but I didn’t believe it. So, I got up early on my last day and walked down east to the harbor. I’m glad I did. I shouldn’t have waited so long. I will go back, hopefully by boat, by sailboat.


Real Mongolian Barbecue

There are no fast food restaurants in Ulan Batar.

Our driver, a native Mongolian, took us to what he said was the original Mongolian Barbecue. I looked at the menu, most of which I didn’t understand. Some of the dishes had English translations next to the Mongolian. My choices, among many others:

Rendeers wigwam

Baked Sheep Head

Ox Tongue

Fried Ox Tongue

Horse Meat Assortments

Fried Liver

Mongolian Khuushuur stuffed with mutton

We ordered an assortment of dishes to share. When they brought the baked sheep head, our Mongolian friend looked rather anxious. He waited for me to go first. I wasn’t sure I was hungry anymore. The sheep was sitting in the serving tray staring at me–literally.

“Do you want the eyes?” He asked. “Or the brain?”

“No thanks. It’s all yours.”

With gratitude and zeal, our friend speared the eyeballs from the sheep. Then, he lifted the skull from the sheep’s head and scooped out the brains.

I went for the Khuushuur. It seemed safest.

As we ate, and shared stories, I began to forget our differences. I began to relax and enjoy a culture I knew so very little about. I began to appreciate the food which had a very different, yet pleasing taste–that is–until I looked–again–at the eyeless sheep staring back at me.

You can buy it in Hong Kong, 24/7

I was working in my suit and tie. Not uncommon in my current assignment. Our light panel case had some particularly powerful velcro holding it together. When I bent down to get the LED lights out of the case, the velcro grabbed my tie. Destroyed. I went through three ties that day. I needed a new tie, like, NOW. My AroundMe app told me I could buy a new tie .57 miles from my current location. I took off walking. I never made it to the store AroundMe suggested. I found a tie shop within a quarter mile. In Hong Kong, much like L.A. or New York, you can buy just about anything, at just about anytime. The city never slept, at least, while I was awake, which was most of the time.

My last post from Hong Kong is dedicated to Commerce.  Fortunately for me, I now have several new ties.

Hong Kong Slice of Life

When I saw the Reggae Kung Fu poster, I asked my friend, a native of Hong Kong, if Jackie Chan was in town. I meant it as a joke. He didn’t laugh. He took me seriously.

“No. Unfortunately, Jackie Chan is not in town.” He said it as if he knew, at all times, where Jackie Chan actually was. And, he seemed disappointed he could not take me to meet Jackie Chan. He didn’t mention any Reggae artists.

Humor, especially with sarcasm, doesn’t translate well, mine, or his. My friend told me how much he loves Jackie Chan, how much the people of Hong Kong love Jackie Chan. But, he said, the movies made in Hong Kong look different than the movies made in the US.

“What’s the difference,” I asked.

“I don’t know,” he said. “They’re just different.”

He tried to show me some examples. Grittier, dirtier, darker, faster, more martial arts. “American movies make Hong Kong look…cleaner.”

“Show me your Hong Kong.”

He tried to. I think. The sites we filmed and photographed were carefully selected. I spent nearly a week in Hong Kong, this time, and I still don’t think I’ve seen the city, the ‘real’ city. After all, I couldn’t give a one sentence description. Big, tall, vibrant, energizing, fast paced, harried, smelly, busy, clean, dirty… I could use a dictionary and never run out of adjectives to describe Hong Kong. It is all of those things, and more. So, bear with me. I photographed the things I could see. Slice of Life? I hope so…

Religious Worship–Hong Kong Style

There are approximately 600 temples, shrines and monasteries in Hong Kong. Buddhism and Christianity are the most widely practiced religions; however, most world religions are found throughout Hong Kong. I was only able to visit two Buddhist Temples, but the evidence of religious worship is pervasive. The Chinese of Hong Kong are a religious people.

A Taste of Australia

Whirl-wind tour. 

Gold Coast. I want to feel the sand and surf before I die.

Brisbane. The Brisbane River snaking through the city leaves the marks of flood waters on the stone foundations of downtown high-rises.

An Aboriginal street performer plays a didgeridoo concert for some coins; the deep, rich, mysterious, mournful sound vibrating my bones. After playing, he tells us the story of how his father, European, fell in love with his Aboriginal mother deep in the bush.

Driving away, a Kangaroo stands and stares at us, watching us go with sad eyes.  Why are you leaving?

From Kangaroo Point, the spectacular setting sun gives way, too soon, to the sparkling stars of the Southern Cross. I’m far from home and longing to see my family.

The good news, for me, is that spending such a short time down under means that I will go back. I must.