b & w
11/24/2017
02/12/2017
Field Trip: Root/Uproot
Frisco Root Tangle - Study #1, July 9th, 2015
Roots. Never will they cease to be objects of fascination and curiosity. In the course of many walks through the woods this photographer has never failed to be transfixed by roots whether hidden, semi-exposed, or out in the air. More times than can be recalled have I stumbled over them, trod on them, and fallen into holes left by their uprooting. This is true of all the places in which I have lived or visited. Colorado was no different. On a hike with friends I found entrancing evidence of that which binds us to family, soil, place. The eyes were overjoyed while the heart sang. Nature itself had wrought violence upon this tree, it is true, but the truth of its existence was a gift for all of us to share.
01/12/2017
In the Bewilderness
I washed my hands at the sink, looked up, and was startled by this man peering back at me. The winter graylight created an accidental portrait setting, one I felt compelled to document. Bemusement, wonder, unease: all the sensations self-portraits induce in myself. Much time is spent thinking about this man I know intimately and yet not at all. Water dripped from my fingers, his fingers, as we stared at one another over less than a yard of separation. The jaguar in winter freezes at the sight of his reflection in the stream. Technology assured that it would not get away. Not this time.
Cold introspection has driven me to this set of affairs before. A few years ago, trapped inside what felt like a shrinking apartment by the worst snow storm I have ever experienced I did a series of self-portraits for lack of anything better to do. It was a method of entertainment, I suppose, but I always felt a subtle itch in my skin every time I saw the images in my library. This morning was the first time in many months that the compulsion to take another hit hard enough to spur action.
Unshaven. Unshowered. The uniform of the schlub in sweatpants and t-shirt worn out of resignation and circumstance. Perhaps one thing that drew me in was the expression in my eyes (eyes are a particular fascination of mine when it comes to people) which radiated a set of feelings for which there may be no exact word in English. Weariness? Lack of sleep? Low-grade existential anxiety? Or just plain garden-variety anxiety behind those blue-gray windows to the soul?
I seek the word for that state of mind. It must exist, it has to exist. To find such a word we must sometimes step into and outside of ourselves, cease trying to say it, and capture it with something that is worth more than the traditional thousand words. The photograph, filter and shield for this man who knows himself too well and not at all. Someday he may forget himself to meet himself anew. The camera is along as witness for the trip.
12/02/2014
Stories from the Wire
Homies, East Bottoms, Kansas City Missouri, 11 January 2013
I don't know what it is with me and cameras, other than I often feel I have a long way to go when it comes to storytelling. So often, the viewfinder leads me to believe that I know what I am doing. Later, the results seem to indicate otherwise. It is not unlike my hand at writing. The idea in my head sometimes seems better than the end product.
The opposite is also true. So many times that something amazing is discovered upon a review of works after weeks, months or even years have passed. This continual rediscovery of bured treasure, as it were. Whether graphic or written, it is a trial and a delight to re-read a story or consider a photograph long set aside. To find inspiration or renewal of creative desire, this is the genius of art.
To find inspiration anywhere, to be sure, is the genius of art. Of creation. The photograph above I took nearly two years ago. It was a scene just outside a butcher shop at which I had just completed a free (to me) training session, or stage (to get all technical) in hopes of finding employment. The setting was right, the light was good, and the birds on the wire were telling me stories.
They didn't tell me I wasn't going to get the job, but I did get the shot. That is the heart of the matter. This a true story.
11/17/2014
Devil in the West
"Old Scratch", sundown near Ft. Robinson, Nebraska, June 2014
We met on the trail, just below the summit of the bluff. The sun was on its way down. Curiously, he did not want to shake my hand. But that is okay. I'm not sure you can shake hands with the devil and say you were only kidding.
I guess neither of us knew who was the Devil here.
04/24/2013
Testing the Light, Sky, and Silence
'Tis dusty here, I concede to you. The jaguar has been quiet and straining to hear other Muses, and not certain they are there to hear. Be that as it may, it has not been entirely dormant. It awoke, and I with it, and we decided upon action. The action was to take a road trip, to see what we could see, and make better plans for the future.
There is an upcoming exhibition scheduled for later this year of which I hope to be a part. The theme is the Flint Hills region of Kansas. I have been seeing a lot of imagery and artwork inspired by the Flint Hills, and it was the intersection of art, curiosity and photography that fired my imagination. Until last year, I had never heard of them. Until this year, I had never visited them. So it was that I woke up this morning and said "I will see the Flint Hills today."
I loaded up my cameras and tripod in the car and set forth. The idea was to perform a scouting mission to get some familiarity with the area. I made the conscious decision to not spend all my time taking pictures, but instead absorb some of the geography and climate. Some pictures would be taken, but only as tests and only of something I found particularly interesting. I was also going to be using a new pinhole film camera, a wide angle Holga with which I had no prior experience. That was in addition to my regular Holga film camera and my trusty DSLR.
We will have to wait for the film to be developed and printed, but I did snap a few digital images that show promise (see below). The strange thing was that as I stood on the edge of some of the last remaining tallgrass prairie in the United States, alone with the wind, sun and thoughts, I found myself losing the urge to take picture after picture. The light was soft and pure, and the sky seemed to be open up something inside my head. There was a silence there, broken only the distant purr of sparse traffic, the wind in the grass and the rush of blood through my veins.
It is foregone that I will return. I sensed something there, testing the light, the sky and the silence. I will find it, or it will find me. This I know.
St. Anthony's Cemetery, near Strong City, KS
Lower Fox Creek School (c. 1882), Tallgrass Prairie National Preserve, near Strong City, KS
10/18/2012
Submitted For Your Approval...
Yes, I'm here. I know, I've been gone a long time. I regret my absence.
It's the Stuff. And the Things. They get up in my grille, and I forget to water my roots. I wonder if there is a cure for this affliction. Perhaps the limiting of distractions would help. My mind is a pond, and the rocks they keep plunging in.
Ahhh. Sorry. I digress, and don't mean to bore you with my crow thoughts. What I really wanted to say was that I do have news. Interesting news. Whether good or not-so-good remains to be seen.
See? I did it again! Sorry.
The story is I am finally submitting some of my photography works to an exhibition, here in Kansas City, Missouri, at a local art gallery. Through luck, timing and the good graces of a new friend I was nudged into doing it. I recently finished the final edit of my submission set of eight pieces, all of which will be reviewed by the curator for approval and thus inclusion into the show.
Eight pieces, out of an original set of about 66 photos. The editing process was tiring and more stressful than I imagined something like it would be. It was a first for me, and I hope to have many more opportunities.
So...I have submitted my pieces. Now, I wait to hear if any get approved for the exhibition. Wish me luck, if you please. I'll let you know as soon as I hear the final word. In the meantime, I include a lagniappe for you, an image that did not make my final cut, but pleased me all the same. It has a working title, but I'm open to suggestions. Enjoy!
Missouri Chernobyl, 8 x 8, B/W, Holga
06/06/2012
03/15/2012
Didn't See It Coming
Victim: Rail line, Patapsco River Valley, Afternoon of February 2, 2012
09/18/2011
Fickle, Yes, But Who Would Turn Her Away?
I almost have my scanning act together, at least enough to finally release some works that are the offspring of my fling with one of my latest loves...her name is Holga, and she is high maintenance...but the pictures! I give you now some happy accidents for your edification and delight:
Experiment A, September 4, 2011
Experiment B, September 4, 2011
Experiment C, September 4, 2011
Earth Sprite, September 2011
Flower Sprite, September 2011
Sometimes the things you do not plan turn out to be more interesting than you expect.
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