On Arrogance and Hubris

I'm all for the amazing creations of humanity. I'm just waiting for a few changes in the iPhone and I'll be a happy boy. I've always loved that people love to create new things.

Some days though, it's important to realize that what we may think of as a great invention of mankind, is really not so much an invention of man, but our discovery of an idea from nature.

In this case, I'm talking about barbed wire, the great and simple invention that helps with so much modern security and more importantly, large scale animal husbandry. It's great stuff. It's also not original. Wikipedia says (and when Wikipedia speaks, it's in a booming voice from above) that a man, Joseph F. Glidden, created barbed wire.

I hate to disagree with the Grand Wiki, but Joseph may have made the first metal barbed wire, but Mother Nature invented it, and she made it in the Ozarks. I don't know what this plant is, and I don't care really. I know what I need to know, stay away, and that this is an evil plant. It likes to grow in vines, often horizontal vines. And it somehow seems to live with few to no leaves. A plant that has no leaves is like a man who doesn't pee, the deal with the devil is in the beast.

Suffice it to say, this evil plant, had it's way with me, especially the first few days. The photo of my leg is from my 2nd of 4 days in the wild. I never did a final count of the number of cuts I got, 30 to 50 per leg sounds about right, plus some on my arms and the cuts pictured aren't the deepest of them either.

The Ozarks are like a beautiful woman (aren't all wonderful things?), she's beautiful, but dangerous, and she must be treated with the care and respect she deserves.

I have learned.

Sweaty, Bloody, Battered, Bruised and Generally Grimey

God, I so needed this vacation. I just got done with four days at Bloody Bear Paw. (It's what I'm calling the area I stayed in.)

Over 72 hours without another human being being seen at all. 4 days, 3 nights, over 40 miles hiked, over 100lbs in equipment and supplies carried roughly 8 miles in, and 75lbs or so carried out. 8 miles from the next human being, 8 miles of rock, river, mud, roots and nature letting me be alone.

No clocks, no time but the movement of the sun. A life about simplicity, survival, and independence from the world, from it's pressures and cares.

Just a man alone with his thoughts. The same thoughts largely as when I went, but by the time I left, peaceful, calm and content, not angst or nervous energy, just peace. Indulgent.

Sitting on Bloody Bear Paw Rock, reading, playing harmonica (or at least learning), watching Hurricane Crick flow then retiring to the fire. Nothing amazing, just a little fire, but it feels good to make a fire from nothing more than wood pulled off the ground and the lighter in your pocket (Hey, I ain't McGyver here. I believe in being properly equipped, or at least trying.)

Maybe I don't need to learn anymore about how to get by on my own, I'm pretty good at it already, but it feels good, powerful, manly, (but manly is such a loaded word that it's wrong,) to live life on my own on a more primal level.

More thoughts to come, more images to come. These are, at best, a rough start, and not the creme, not the creme by any means, but merely a humble beginning.

Passion vs. Profit

One needs both, passion and profit. Sorry, it's pretty simple, you don't eat, you don't live, you don't live and you don't create art (or whatever strokes you.) So you got to work, but you can't work properly, well, passionately, if you don't take the time to also stroke your passion. (Yeah, the arts and sex go together, even when it's just in a poor mixture of words.)

I can't say there is one type of photography I always want to do, there isn't. Call my love fickle, fleeting, erratic, whatever you wish. I call it varied, exploring, sensuous in all the senses and they can offer, though I just work in one (side note, who thinks I can learn the harmonica?). I'm at a point where I'm in love, with photography, but still, hopefully always, infatuated also. She, photography, has body, all of which I still want to explore. Sure, some areas I like to play with regularly, but I still want to feel all of her. But I also need to do the dishes sometimes, without being asked, to get some of the other exploration I want. But the exploration is ultimately what I want, and I'll learn to do the dishes better for it.

Doing something for the sake of passion, for nothing but love, inspires you to learn, to improve, to make it to the next day when the previous was tough. Today wasn't tough in the work end, in fact it felt pretty good. A bunch o' hours finished off with profile images of two men doing outreach to the homeless and helping them get services. Real feel good work.

But the passion of the day was with Strange Tree and Aloft Aerial Dance. Emily, the writer for Strange Tree, is just damn good. I'm not a comedy guy. If you ask me, the funniest movie ever is Dr. Strangelove. I'm guessing it's a little dark and cerebral for most people. Not to say that most people aren't smart, many, but not all, are, the humor is just very political, and not so slap stick. Come on, fluoridation as a global communist conspiracy as a central joke? The lead humor being a sexualization of mid-air refueling of B-52 bombers? It's just not for everybody. That's cool.

But Emily can write humor I enjoy that isn't that over the top cerebral stuff, just good laughs. Mix in some good ridiculous songs, and some good aerial dance. A good night, a good life. And some witch burning to boot. I've always been a fan of witch burnings. A real bummer we don't do it anymore. Maybe it's just having a good mob I like. Whichever, whatever.

It's groups like this though, helping them out, and being able to compliment them, and let them realize how much happiness they bring me, it makes me happy, satisfied. I don't have everything in life, not yet, eventually I'll conquer Asia (and if I don't, then I'll be satisfied having a son named Genghis, you may be thinking I'm joking, but I'm not), but even if I don't conquer, life is pretty damn good.

And if over the next three weeks you want to have a good night out, "Ghost Stories II :Crucible the Musible!" rates as the way to go in my book (I wasn't even back in my car before I was trying to hunt down a friend to go see it with me this weekend.) Men, your lady friend will think you styling for escorting her to such a neat show. Ladies, if your man don't like it, at least a little, and really, a lot, then throw him to curb, he asked for it. And don't feel shy about letting me know you had to kick him (wink, wink, nudge, nudge).

I'm going to sleep like a baby tonight (my day started at 8am, it's been pretty solid in one form or another till now, currently 2am, and I've got some work left to do), or at least what I think a baby sleeps like. (Reality be damned, this is my life.)

You'd think I'd know better than to do 19 hour days. You'd think. And it's my day off.

Additive vs. Subtractive

A few years back a friend at the time introduced me to an interesting way to view photography, and art in general, additive vs. subtractive.

The concept is simple of enough. In additive art you start with nothing, a blank canvas. From that point you build what you want, a dash of red here, a curve there, whatever. (My analogies will default to being painting related since the intial discussion involved painting, but not always, and it can apply to photo, dance, music, writing, whatever.) Elements are added to the image until the desired image is created.

In subtractive work you start with something, possibly everything, and then narrow down what you want into the final work. This type of work style is far less common. The best example I can think of, and the one I mostly practice, of course, is non-studio photography. You have an entire scene in front of you, but by removing elements, by cropping and cropping more, making all the necessary choices, the final image is created. It's about subtracting elements until the desired image is created.

It's simple enough. No big deal. But the thought process between the two is a world of difference.

Personally, subtractive is very easy for me. Throw a bunch of stuff in front of me, I'll find what I think is the core of the subject quickly and create imagery to highlight that with no problem. I'll use every tool in the book to get rid of all the junk that distracts from that core thought, idea, feeling.

Additive is still very challenging to me. I don't see the range of possibilities of what can be brought into an image to make it stronger, if something needs to bee taken out I'll usually see that mighty quick. (Hair, make-up and fashion are excluded items.) I know it's a practice deal for me. I need to learn to think more conceptually. While I can certainly conceptualize while doing my subtractive work, it's much more on the fly, and I tend to be better, to do better with pressure, at least at a certain level. In additive work the creation is less about the moment the piece is made, or the photo is made, and more about the process of getting there, the planning. (They never believe me in the office when I tell them that 90% of our studio work succeeds or fails in the planning process. Ah well, luckily I'm very well trained to work and think on the spot.)

A good example of this in my mind is that few musicians get on stage without crazy amounts of practice, the same for all performance. Paintings and drawings are often slightly changed throughout their creation, but that can be hours, days, weeks, months or years. There is plenty of planning time in there if you ask me.

Subtractive work tends to be less...forgiving? That word is wrong, but it gets the idea across. I don't mean to imply that subtractive work is more challenging, it's not, it's just that once something is gone, it's gone. With a photo, if the photo is taken without something in the frame, for the purposes of the photo, it probably didn't need to exist at all. (Add that to my love of cutting off body parts and it gets kind of sick.) The other subtractive form I can most easily think of would be sculpting from a block of material, removing all the excess till you reveal the sculpture. If you accidentally remove part of the sculpture, ah, that's a problem. Now, I know little about sculpture and I know there are some remedies, but you get the idea.

Sometimes I wonder if this concept is applicable to other art forms, writing, music, theater, whatever. I don't know. I'd love to see it explored. It would probably fail, but I so love failures. Failures tend to be the most interesting successes (oohhh...one of those faux-wise statements that are actually complete BS.) But I think you get the idea. Failures are interesting to see because of what you can learn from them. I'm a fan of failing. (I better be some days, otherwise...just "ouch" otherwise.)

Other ideas to explore, the difference between performance and object art (see (or more accurately listen to) Joni Mitchell, on a live record talking about "Paint a Starry Night again man", hilarious, in part because of it's accuracy.) Performance once it's done, can, and usually will be done again. Object, not so much, but sometimes.

Anyhow, that's the start of an idea, and one I want to continue to explore.

Next in the world of strange art concepts that float through Josh's head, how the written word should be distrusted, and maybe all words, though the tone and body language that go along with words are quite useful, the words themselves, not so much. This is why I hate loud bars these days. I have to work to listen to words, which are so uninformative, and the useful info is below the actual words and I can barely get the words.

Done rambling.

A Toast to Fine People

Some people in this world are just nice. It's stupid statement, yep, but it's true, and it needs to be said about some people sometimes.

So I was fortunate enough to get to help the fine (previously and also still, nice) people at Chicago Tap Theatre. Simple enough work, new head shots. A nice change of pace for me. Pretty people, pretty pictures, studio situation, nothing taxing, and I get to feel good about myself for doing it. (BTW - the real reason to volunteer in life, from my perspective, self-interest. Do something for someone else and get a warm fuzzy feeling, you can't do that making money, and it's worth more, if you ask me. Give it a try if you haven't recently. Go here for some ideas.)

Anyhow, I got to spent an hour doing making these images, being thanked, having some good conversations, getting to know some good people a little better. What else can you ask for on a Wednesday afternoon?

It was also enjoyable for me because I got a few things I normally don't get. I got time to set-up and do not great, but decent lighting. (I think I need some more heads. Money? I don't need no stinking money.)

I got to have models when I told them to stand someplace, would do it. My most common studio situation is shooting Chicago Parent covers, which involves little kids usually. Put them where you want them, and then hope they don't move before you get a few frames off. Repeat. This means that the lighting has to be more generic, because it has to cover where the model is plus 4 feet in any direction because that's where they may go. Kids are great, sometimes I just like a change of pace though.

All of this plus adult models, which aren't me, and are attractive (not that I'm not hot, I am, like the sun, but there is something about taking pics of other pretty people.) Again, enjoyable, not deep, not meaningful, just enjoyable.

Anyhow, just another one of those simple happy pleasures in life.

Someday I'm going to learn how to recruit models so I can I shot studio work more often, get better at it. I'd like to, it's a fun change of pace. But alas the day when I learn that skill has not yet come and gone. Someday, one day. (Yep, just add it to the list.)

Also, I should note, on philosophical grounds, I won't shoot anything that organizations will pay to have shot. Well I like to help out, I also don't want to hurt any other artist's income opportunities. It's a fine but important distinction to me.

And, by the way, if you're thinking, "Wow, they're beautiful," you're right. They all are, men and women. And the cool part, the dancing is even more beautiful. Hey, it's volunteer work for me, I can enjoy it and have it easy, it's acceptable.

48 Inspiring Hours

I'm an introvert, and a pretty strong one. I generally dislike people. On the other hand the only thing in this world that holds my interest with any regularity is people. The last two days though have reminded me why I love humanity, even on those days I don't, and that ain't today. Today is glowing with love.

First wonderful person. Liala Kuchma, she is one of ten Chicago artists in Chicago's Artists Month Celebration. Okay, neat. It was when she was talking about her weaving at the loom, how she does it for 12 hours a day, sometimes more, because she loves it, when she talked about the choice and which would make her happier, weaving or going out for dinner with friends, and how most of the time more weaving would make her happier, it was when she talked about what she did and you could feel the passion, I could feel the passion, the love, that I just felt...good. It's one of those, "there is someone else out there who feels it too," moments. I don't get many of those.

Many people love something, whatever it is, and that is wonderful, but it is tempered, and wisely so, I'd argue. I'm not wise. I am passionate. Not about many things, but I am about a few, and those areas of my life, I love them. I can feel it, sometimes I can feel it want to rush out. I love it, and I wouldn't stop it. I'm also well aware that it can be very harmful to me in other areas of my life. C'est la vie. (I love that phrase.)

It's rare I get to meet a person so devoted to their art. I like those people. Maybe they just make me feel less alone, in a way that being with people can never make me feel not alone.

The second cool person was Ryan. Ryan I don't think knows quite how cool he is yet. That's fine, a little sad, but we all have to learn. Ryan was just a joy to talk to. He was discovering the joy of passion, of creating, of, of I don't know what. But he was discovering. He had that sound, that look of young love. I love young love, that falling in love. Mature, caring, healthy love has it's place in the world (though whether I can make this argument from experience is an interesting question these days) but young love, whether youthful in years, or new to us today, is wonderful, powerful. When the grass is greener, the sky is bluer, and you just don't know any better, but it's wonderful. I don't know if he'll get through the hard stuff. He's already gone through quite a bit personally, and has more to face, and he has my admiration and respect for it, but there is more ahead, and I wish him the best in it. I don't know how he'll do, but I love that he is in love, and I hope he can enjoy that. And through his love of love, he's reminded me of how much I love it too. And for that, I owe him a thanks, and I only hope I was able to give him a tenth as much as he gave me.

It didn't hurt that he and his friends all thought I was cool, had a cool job and reminded how lucky I am in life. Sometimes it just feels really good to remember, to be grateful, for all you've had the luck to be given in life.

As a side note, I meet Ryan at Guess Hookah. Cool place. Bummer I'm apparently about a decade older than their average clientèle, I'd think about hanging there every now and again. Nice laid back atmospheres, a nice change of pace for me. Sometimes I wish I didn't find stress and chaos so damn fun. It actually made me kinda want to try a hookah, alas, my brain won, and I didn't. Apparently 85% of people who go there and use the hookahs don't smoke cigarettes, who would've thunk it? Not to mention, if you're twenty, reading this and male or lesbian, beautiful women galore, I mean....wow. Okay, that was unprofessional of me.

And just to add to the surreality of today. Other than hookah cafes I was covering a gentleman, nice guy, Darrin Hallowell, who does sculpture incorporating his own blood. Pretty interesting stuff, interesting ideas, and enjoyable to talk to.

I wish more Tuesdays could just be artists doing something odd and hookahs. That really is what Tuesday is supposed to be.

As a side note, I don't know why it seems everything I've shot is moving left, but....oops, my poor graphic designers.

And on a final pointless note, white teas, can't get into them. Just can't. I'm about the Oolongs.

He's Mr. Vain

So tonight I was faced with the question that man (or woman) has asked since the start of time, now that I've had an enjoyable Friday evening (also known as grocery shopping and a movie on my tv after work was done) what should I do, and I just happen to have "fun hair" happening and a small mountain of photo equipment handy? (Everything about this entry, I should say, is about laughing at me and how it is totally allowed.)

I should also state here, Lexi is a Goddess, officially. She is now Lexi the Great and Everlasting Goddess of Hair. (BTW - I know I need to get my highlights done, and I know it's ridiculous that I know this.)

Some day I'm going to go on about the difference between fun and happy and their minimalist relationship many days. Some day I'm also going to get a life and not hang out on Friday nights taking wacky self-portraits, but that day is not today. And I had a lot of fun and am damn happy.

And if you think this is bad, there's another 100 or so of these that are even weirder. Which raises the question, what does a man with a small mountain of photo equipment do on a Saturday night? (And welcome to how you become legally married to do what you do.) Also, I'm replacing all my various profile photos with the one above I think, to hell with reality I say. To hell with it.

This blog used to once involve matters of journalism and photography. Oh well.


BTW - I'm going to randomly start mentioning teas because....I feel like it. Wen Shan Bao Zhong, absolutely excellent. The second steeping of it is absolutely delicious, delicious. Not to mention it's from Formosa, and who calls it Formosa anymore, well except for the Chinese? On the other hand, I doubt drink 36 ounces of right before bed is wise. It doesn't have much caffeine in it as far as I can tell, but that's a lot of liquid.

MySpace and Facebook

So many a moon ago I created a MySpace account for myself. I did this primarily to get info and do basic background research on people or groups I was helping out and keep up to date on upcoming performance by groups I like. Fine, dandy, whatever.

I avoided putting much info up on my account...just because. I generally am against MySpace. More accurately, I kinda despise MySpace, loathe would also be accurate. The reason here is simple, bad graphic design. It is my belief that MySpace is a den of piss poor graphic design. This is unacceptable in my world. I'm a photographer, I want pretty, or at least communicative and clear. This is not MySpace, generally. (Don't even get me started on self-starting music, other than Shiny Toy Guns and Leslie, they're fine, actually they're good, I'll go to those pages just for those, but that's just because they're good, everything else is just rude. I've turned into a grumpy old man, at 32.)

Well, a few months back I found out that a friend had forwarded an image of mine to another friend via their MySpace account. I had no problem with the friend doing this, I was happy to help out the artist and I'm glad I was able to, but to figure out what and where things were going I had look at her MySpace account (I'm way to curious of a soul). Normally this would be no big deal, except her account, the friend, was set to private. This meant I needed to add her as a friend. I hadn't added anybody as a friend, it kept me off the radar. Think of it as "Stealth Josh", my preferred MO.

As soon as It had a "friend", and I kinda liked it when I just had the one, it had a certain desperate pathetic-ness to it that I found humorous, but I felt like I should then do something with my MySpace account. I still haven't done much, but I've done a little, namely add a few more friends, it just seemed like to much pressure on one person for her to be my only friend. But this has all raised the question for me, what do I do with this thing, my MySpace account, and how do I get it to work for me? Well I enjoy catching up with old friends, and that's useful, ultimately I want to get some business use out of this thing, that's why it exists in my mind, but how and through what use?

Hopefully eventually answering those two questions will lead to what to add to my account and how leverage it to make it useful. In the meantime, the whole thing just confuses me. I'm open to suggestions btw, please.

PS. Yes, this also makes me feel old. "Them troublemakers and their MySpacey stuff!!!"

Technical Note

I recently had to change my internet service provider. Don't ask, at least not today. Suffice it to say I'm not happy with my previous service provider but I am happy to be rid of them. So for future use if you need to email me please use my joshhawkinsphoto@gmail.com address. This will be my main address for the foreseeable future. If you are using one my earthlink addresses, well, they are going away.

Sorry for the inconvenience.

PSA: Bike Helmets are Good

It's been a while since I've been able to take a nice bike ride. I figured it was a holiday, I suppossedly had the time, I'm going biking.

Had to fill up my front tire, it was low on air. The first gas station the air didn't work. Went to the second gas station, buzzing down Harlem, take a soft right into the station. Somewhere in the turn my bike started sliding sideways. I knew it was unrecoverable pretty quick.


The bike and I went down as a unit. I didn't have time to unhook my shoes from the peddles. For the third time today, time was going slow motion. The first two were when I was in the air jumping from a five meter platform into a pool for the end of my Summer Love project, more tears on that later, and it almost is tears.

So I'm going down locked into my bike, my whole body contacts at just about the same time. I don't remember much about much of my body hitting the ground. I do remember my head smacking into the pavement. This wasn't a light fluffy smack either, my head hit hard, viciously hard. When my head was bouncing of the pavement I remember actually thinking to myself, "Wow, I'm glad I'm wearing this helmet, because my head is hitting really hard." I love real life slow-mo time.

My bet, no helmet, one concussion. One helmet, I walked away with a scrapped-up elbow, no big deal there, I'm probably going to develop bruises on my right hip, and my right shoulder hurts when I move it, but all and all, a mighty fine crash. Bike sustained no major damage, I sustained no major damage, thanks to the helmet, and I even got to go for my bike ride after the whole incident was done. Perhaps the biggest problem is that every time I wince in pain I start laughing which just doesn't make it feel any better.

On a massive tangent, I will say that there was one problematic side effect. After riding for the a bit, and thinking about all the slow-mo time during the day, I came to a conclusion, I need to jump out of an airplane again, and preferably soon. I mean I'm just jonesing to jump. Anyone want to join me? I prefer jumping with people, but not many like to jump (theme of the summer, jumping) but I highly recommend it.

In my experience I'd say, at least right now, that there are three major intense experiences in life. The first two I'm not sure on the order. (Just to give you an idea what I think these beat, and mind you, I try really hard to live a quite life: having a gun pointed at you (this was tempered by knowing she didn't really want to shot me, just get my attention. And before you say anything, this wasn't anyone I dated, though I will say if your girlfriend/boyfriend suggests not having sharp knives in the house, listen to them. And when you start thinking they'll use them, it's a good idea to leave then, it's great idea to have left when they suggested not having the sharp knives in the house. I love love, I hate love.) these experiences are more intense than flying upside-down in airplanes, firing big guns, floating on Lake Superior under the stars and many others which I just can't remember right now. Okay, done being a show-off dork, back to the three most intense experiences in life....)

There is the moment when you capture, and you now you've captured a great image, or story. The fulfillment that courses through my veins when I know I've hit, it's like nothing else. Day to day, life is good, those moments when you get the great images, those are the reason for all the other days. It may happen only a few times a year, but it makes the year worthwhile.

The second intense moment isn't so much usually a moment but a day, culminating in moments. It's that day you get to spend with a woman you love. The day you get to do nothing but love her, and show her that you do. Just let that pour out. And at the end of the day make love to her (get over the scandalous reaction, none of us are twelve, we've all been there.) And I mean savior her, with every sense, for as long as you both can, as much as you both can, not about the sex, but about each other, and loving each other. Where everything is just about showing each other, openly, unreservedly and without the existence of the rest of the world, just how you feel about each other. Nothing else exists.

The third moment, and it's definitely third in my experience but it beats out so many others, is jumping out of an airplane. It's a overwhelming, it's hard to remember because it so much, and impossible to forget for the same damn reason. The rush of falling, straight into the ground, at 120 mph, nothing there, nothing to do but wow at the wonder of the smallness of everything, and how it's now just a little bit bigger than it was at the beginning of the sentence. Followed by floating in the air, alone (okay, usually with your jump-master because you're not certified to jump alone.) Just hanging out, slowly descending, looking at the world around you, with just the wind blowing by. It's both the most intense adrenaline rush and the one of the calmest, most free moments, wrapped into one.

So anyhow, if you want to jump out of an airplane, let me know. I'm ready to rock and roll.

For those who are curious, all the images are from my Summer Love project. If you have no idea what I'm talking about, okay, if you want to know more though, great, it starts here and you can find out more in the stories section. There will also shortly be a rambling post about my lose from the end of this project. It hurts, but it was wonderful.

Never quite satisfied

Before I ramble pointlessly, this is Leslie Beukelman, she sings like an angel. I wish my night would have been a bit slower and I could have taken an extra hour to just listen. Such is life.

I want my motto to be, "Always happy, never satisfied." In truth it's probably "Never happy, never satisfied." That's not to say I'm not happy. I, as a general overall human being, am pretty damn happy.

I'm never happy with my photography. There are a few photos a year I like, 3-7 usually. They still have problems, but they're alright. Otherwise, I'm pretty much just unhappy with my general performance in photography. I enjoy photography, tremendously, I just think I should do better.

Someday, one day, I won't feel like a hack. That day, is not today.

With these two photos (Tangent time - well my life may be back to being "more real" this is really quite relative. Tonight was photographing Leslie, because, well, I could, and I ccould call it work. Again, reality is a relative term with me.) So, with these two photos, they're alright, I guess, but they should just be so much better. Sure, there wasn't much working for me here (for the tech fans, ISO3200 f1.2 25th of a second) but as a former boss of mine once said to me after I gave him an excuse for why I screwed something up, and said more eloquently than I, "There's always an excuse, I want people who don't need an excuse." Also known as, there is always a reason you can't do something right, so just find a way to do it right. So, no excuses, these should be better.

Yeah, and maybe I'm not being fair to me, but I wonder how much of that never being happy makes me get better each year.

(and yeah, a psychiatrist would have a field day with me. Such is life.)

Back to Reality?

I don't know if back to reality is accurate, reality never really exists for me, but back to "the usual" probably is fair. School is back in session, that means back to kids doing school stuff, lots of sports (2 football games a week till I'm blue in the face), and everything back to inside soon enough.


A few years back I started this little project call Portfolio of the Month. I had realized my entire portfolio was from my late teens and early twenties, this was when I was in my late twenties. Let's just put that in the "unacceptable" category. This project, POM, was/is a chance for me to build my portfolio on an ongoing basis.

I don't really know if it works for that. I just don't give that much of damn about my portfolio these days. It does provide a handy mechanism for some much needed self-examination though. I'd argue most people need more self-examination. Journalists are probably even worse. Yesterday doesn't matter, only tomorrow's papers matter. POM is a handy way for me to look at what I do, and try to learn something from it, something about being a better photographer, and something about being a better me...hopefully.

Anyhow, this tangent once had a point, which was that this project showed me that I shot a lot more images I like in summer than winter. July and August are my best months. February and March are my worst. I've decided it's all about that outdoor light versus the constant florescents.

Basically this bums me a little. Oh well. I did get speakers, the first every speakers I've bought, unless you want to count a boombox I bought a decade or so ago. Music sounds so much better on them then off of my laptop's speakers. Who would've guessed?

Shoot it Right to Start with

So I am doing a project for a very wonderful dance studio, Danza Viva (salsa Rocks!). The project involves mixing images of dancers, not always in dance related poses, with spiritual symbols. And well it is coming along well, now I'm remembering why I like to shot to fit a design, because designing to fit an image is just time consuming.

I also just don't like doing the computer work. Cropping, toning and other basic image adjustments, fine. Design work, it's a lot of work. "Work" is a four letter word, so is "real", I don't do either. It's also work I don't normally do so I'm betting I'm slow, and I'm making mistakes. Straight photo work I can do quick and well.

Bit by bit it's coming together. It will be done somewhat soon, on the other hand, it may be a bit longer.

The other problem with computer work is that there is always a flaw you can fix, and you can fix it, when you're shooting, if there is a flaw you live with it and keep moving forward. You remember it, so you don't do it again, but you don't go back and fix every small thing, because you just can't. "Hey, Miss Model, can you just hold that pose for the next 6 or 7 hours please? Thanks, I may also want you to move incredibly small amounts. Again, thanks."

And I have weird problems. The image of Khazna (she's the face), for example, I'm worried she may be too beautiful, as in intimidatingly beautiful. This is not one of those things I normally concern myself with.

The project is coming out nice though, just slower than I'm used to. And if I was to do it again, I'd do about 25 things differently. Ah well, live and learn.

And on a side note, Jeff Buckley, "Grace", and absolutely awesome CD. If you haven't checked it out, what's wrong with you?

Life is Pretty Easy, and that's just Dandy.

My life ain't a bad life. Not at all. I've come to realize that pretty well this summer. I'm very comfortable with this realization.

I've also come to realize that my reality has very little reality in it. Work is hanging out at the pool. Work is going to hear great singers sing, work is any number of BS items I make of it. Sometimes it's other stuff, but the fact that I have the good stuff in there is very unusual in and of itself.

Then I get to see the other side. Watching, photographing, the River Forest Fire Department and Public Works filling and moving sandbags to prepare for the flooding Desplaines River. Damn hard work if there was any. And they were mostly, mostly, having a damn fine time doing it. Lots of jokes, lots of ribbing. Good stuff, but still hard work, but necessary work.

Good Nights

For those in the Chicago-land area, or lucky enough to be where they may be playing, check out Funkadesi, "Chicago's Indo-Afro-Caribbean Band". Next time I'll have to get some good photos of them and the crowd, and it is an active crowd. Sometimes though, it's just about dancing.

Quick Photos - Summer Love

Just a few new photos from my Summer Love project. More later. (How many times have I said that now?)

Why Did I Come Back Again?

I love the woods. I love the peace, the slower speed of life. Since I've gotten back to Chicago it's been nothing but run, run, run. The norm.

When I was camping I didn't look at a clock, I was annoyed when someone mentioned time not based on the sun, the moon or the stars. Life was at the speed of...life, not the speed of this city. A chance to create, to create, with no real purpose, just to make some beautiful imagery. To enjoy just being creative, even if I'm saying nothing, just beauty.

I've got a lot of wonderful things to say about my trip, but I don't, as always, have time, but I should mention, Northwest Passage, well worth it. A great experience through them. Sitting on Lake Superior, at night, under the stars, sea caves during the day, activity, activity, activity, and what I want(ed). I couldn't have asked for more.

So here are photos, a few, quick, photos.

Totally Pointless, and I Mean Totally Pointless

This isn't the place for this, but I guess I just need it.

Those who have spent periods of time single, longer periods, 6 months to several years will probably understand this. It makes no sense. Some days you just feel it, you feel love. It involves nobody, it is directed nowhere, and as far as I've ever been able to tell comes from the ether that is nothing.

I don't know why I feel it now.

Maybe after realizing how bad, how evil, how horrible women can be (and let me stipulate here, men are just as bad, I just don't deal with them on those terms, so for me it's women), over the past few months I've had so many experiences of kindness, and wonder, and joy, of generosity, friendship, caring, concern, interest, and so many other wonders. These have come from friends old and new alike, strangers as well. Nothing all that unusual really. Nothing that happens out of what I'm guessing is the ordinary. (I really don't know what ordinary is, so I'm guessing there.)

It is also a great inspiration. It is my current source of wanting to create. Damn, I wish it wasn't going to rain tomorrow. People don't dive into pools in the rain, I think.

The simplest of sources, happiness, love, hate, depression, seem to give me the most creative ammunition. Always has. Maybe the simplest, the basest of emotions are what we can all understand, what we can all share the easiest. As a wise man used to tell me, "That which is most personal is most universal." It's cliche crap, and it's true. Maybe those emotions are the simplest to let flow, let fly from within. And hence are the clearest, and the easiest for people to grab, to understand and relate to. Maybe I just need to be able to get lost in my emotions, to forget how to think, to forget to think, to let it flow, and to let people relate.

This is all great and dandy for art work. Journalism is, happily, a different world. That is what much of tomorrow is, thought, and relation to subjects with purpose. There is little to no place for emotion, but it is still there, underneath. It's easier to work in a world of thought, there is less risk, less exposure, less chance for failure and rejection. And yet the world of those chances still calls, on that slim hope of success. That slim hope that letting loose will succeed in helping someone feel, just feel. Maybe the feeling they share won't be the same as mine, but maybe it will touch something in them. If that's all you can give the world, well, for me at least, that's enough.

Or maybe I've just listened to too much Jeff Buckley tonight. That's probably it.

Exhaustion, Pure and Total Exhaustion

I can work pretty hard, and pretty long, but all things have limits. In the last week I've had at least 2 16 hour days, and the others have been 10 plus, nothing less. It's been good, but tiring.

8 hours of shooting is a lot of fun. It is also very draining. When I shoot, I focus. Totally and completely. Everything else falls away. It may be the most zen like moments of my life, but it also requires a lot of energy to do it. A few hours day 4, 5, 6 or so is fine and dandy. Much more is tough, consuming. It feels good, but everybody needs to breathe. I look forward to breathing soon. But I can't do that yet.

And to be realistic, the two 16 hour days have been because I've been making imagery of dancers for Danza Viva. Beautiful, kind women who know how to pose for the camera, as I said, good.

At one point many years ago I was reading about championship chess players. How the really good ones have multiple hours of excericise in their training/practice scehdules. I also read about how during a championship chess match the players will expend as much energy as an NFL lineman during a game. I have no supporting evidence to point you to where to get this information. I just remember it, and want to believe it. It takes a lot of energy to focus, so I want to believe it.

A Little Update plus a Recantation about Summer Love II

My website has been neglected for too long. I know it. I haven't had time to update it, or at least that's my story and I'm sticking to it, though I know it's a total line of BS.

So I did something. It's small. All I did was update the entry page. I've been tired of the entry page with the construction notice for a long time. So it's gone. Yes. (It's the small things in life that make me happy.)

I've updated the images to some more recent work, which I may try to do for a while. It's now images from my Summer Love project and images from Chicago Tap Theatre's "The Hourglass in the Stop-Time Chronicles". Both projects have images that haven't otherwise been widely seen, if seen by anyone. Take a look. It also auto-rotates the images. I'm not sure if I like that, but I'll try it for a while and see how I feel about it later. If you've got an opinion about it let me know.

I should also note that after looking through the images from my second visit with Summer Love again, I've changed my mind. I got some usable images out of that visit. I actually think I may have got one or two very nice images. I love being wrong. At some point down the line I'm going to post about my work process for selecting imagery, but not tonight, as it could be kinda long.

Anyhow, the website is updated. Take a look.

Summer Love II

I have a lot to say, a lot to say for just one week, and it's a little more personal than most posts.

As is so often the case with anything new, especially anything new and so exciting, I can't stop thinking about this. I mean I can do things, I can live life, but I think about this project for hours a day. I talk to people about it, I work on it. I am head over heals for it. It has gotten to the part though where now I have to start dealing with the reality of it all. It really is so much like dating, or so much of what I know and imagine dating to be. (if you know me you know what a strange world women are for me, so you understand, if not, suffice it to say, women are a strange world.)

The second date with this project, her, was both a failure and success, a successful failure? (I love Apollo 13 references.) A failure in that I don't feel like I got any usable images out of the time I spent with her. A success in that I learned about her. At this point the learning is worth so much more than an image. The exploration of her quirks and needs was worth the time. So failure is perhaps both harsh and inaccurate, but I can be both some days, including today apparently.

The third time with her went well. I learned more yet, got yet more ideas, grew into my understanding of her more, plus I got some nice images out of the deal. I don't know how many I'll keep when all is said and done, but I got some. She needs sun, absolutely has to have sun, it's a key to her happiness.

The thinking about her has been some of the most interesting stuff of the last week. I'm a journalist, a photojournalist, but a journalist, my reporting isn't about me, but this isn't quite reporting either. It's something else. It's more art project. I'm fine with this, it also creates some differences, some important differences for me. Pure reporting projects I get involved in, involved in emotionally, I care about them. I don't understand how anyone could do a project and not care about it. I don't think it happens, I hope it doesn't happen.

The difference with a project like this is the point of origin, I think that's the right term. With a reporting project the genesis is the world around us. This project the world around me is part of the project, but not the genesis point. The genesis point is me. This project is about freedom, faith, chances, leaping off the ledge, the soft catch, fear, comfort, embrace, a loss of control, and a belief that it will all turn out well. It's a host of things.

The fear of stepping up to that ledge, and taking that step that should, in your primal brain, kill you, or at least hurt you. The knowledge that jumping two or three stories down won't kill you, that it won't hurt you. The belief that this is true, despite all the instinctual knowledge that it's not, and having the faith to follow that belief, and come out the other side unscathed. The freedom of summer to take these kinds of chances. There is something about summer that leads people, at least me, to take chances I wouldn't normally take. Maybe it's that Midwest finally leaving the house thing, I don't know, but the world, and all the opportunities open during summer. (The summer fling seems to be the greatest example of this thought process.)

This project is all those things, but ultimately it's about me. It's my attempt to express my feeling of these emotions. If I didn't feel all of these emotions, I wouldn't be able to do this project, to create this imagery. I don't know why I wouldn't be able to, but I know that when it comes to conceptual projects like this, it's vital that I feel what I say. Maybe I just wouldn't have the interest to say it otherwise, maybe I wouldn't take the chance that's necessary. I don't enterily know, other than to know that I must feel what I say. I also know that this project isn't for me, it's for the world at large to see, so I must say these things in a way that the rest of the world will read, will understand, and hopefully feel. That just scares me. Maybe it's just me, but I doubt it, but I fear no one will understand what these images say, but I think some people will understand, and I want to say it to them. Maybe it's the way I'm most comfortable saying it to myself.

I know why I need to say it now also. It's funny, when I was explaining the project to my friend rat bastard (sorry can't name him, so I got to razz him) he came to roughly the same conclusion I had come to before I said it. This is my recovery piece.

I feel this way, now, because I didn't feel this way for so many years before this. For me there seems to typically be a recovery project from a tough emotional period (let's be clear, this involved a woman, shocking, I know). Previous emotional events went similarly, many a year ago it was photo project which I'm still very proud of, but it was destructive piece, because I was in that place. I'll call the next project a performance art piece, between returning to college, again, and my behavior, that seems about right. And now, this time, it's about freedom, and joy and happiness and release and faith in the world. It's funny, because I knew I needed to have this piece. I could feel it in me, for the last year, I could feel it simmering. I made a couple of failed starts on projects that just didn't work. And then this happened. I'm not sure why, or how, it just seems to work. It's a mystery. (Shakespeare in Love reference) And this is so very different than what I would have expected, maybe I love it more for that.

I guess if I'm going to be in a place, to be in a place of happiness and exploration is a good place to be. I'm still driven, I'm still unsatisfied with myself, I believe I can be, and should be more and better, but that's kind of the central to being me, and that's fine.

But at the end of the day I want to discover the world anew, I'm comfortable being vulnerable (which is a strangely wonderful feeling) and I'm happy. And maybe those feelings, and the feelings surrounding them is what this piece is about. And maybe those simple feelings people will understand and hopefully they will give me the pleasure of sharing those feelings with them, even if I never know that they have shared those feelings.



P.S. Sorry for the length and if you got through all that let me know and I'll buy you a drink next time I see you. Cheers.

I understand why they took Troy

I'd like to start by saying that I'm not for sacking cities for the sake of sacking cities. I believe if you're going to sack a city, you best have good cause first.

Leslie Beukelman is the singer for a band called the Rhythm 4. I saw them because I know the percussionist that performs with them, tap dancer Mark Yonally, of Chicago Tap Theatre. Suffice it to say it's fun to watch jazz with a dancing percussionist. The world needs more of this type of change. But, and sorry Mark, the real joy of this band is Leslie (Mark does do an excellent job, as always, and it says something powerful that she can over-power him in the lead performer category.) She has a voice you can just listen to all night long. I would have no problem watching, helping or commanding the sacking of Damascus to hear her voice. Just classically beautiful, stunning. (To be fair to the rest of the ancient world, Damascus just feels right, but if it was Kent, or Venice, Cairo, or the always classic Troy, it would all be the same to me.) And the only reason I would suggest sacking a city for her voice (because it's not to be disturbing, that's not my intent) is that there are some things in this world that are just timelessly beautiful. That's her voice, it just feels like the vocal version of Helen of Troy. (I will freely admit that I have no musical background, knowledge and little experience, but I know what sounds good to me.)

Take the chance to listen to this band live. It's worth one night of your life.

Summer Love

The problem, the joy of creating, is that it is, at least for me, like falling love. You date around a lot, well at least it seems that what the world does, and it's what I do with imagery for sure, then every once and a while, you meet that one. That one that sparks. That lights you up. You hope it lasts. You want to do nothing but consume it, drink in it, savor it, and be consumed by it. And there is always that fear that it won't last. That it's no deeper than what you first saw, and it's just more of the same, but you hope, pray if you pray, that it has some depth, some staying power.

I know this series won't last more than the summer. That's probably good. I know I have to consume it all now. I know there will be an end, for better or worse. I know I have to work it for the little time I have. I doubt it will survive the winter, usually projects don't survive an extended separation with me.

Hell, I get kept awake at night by this. I just want to make more and more. But I need to temper my time, my passion (tempering my passion has never been my greatest skill for sure) give it time to grow, get it right, not make a mess of it. Find a way to savor her right, treat her properly, the way this one, this particular one needs to be treated. They all have some needs in common, but they are all unique, and must be cared for differently, specially.

What a rambling mess it all is, this note.

My head is all jumbled and I love it.

Hourglass in the Stop-Time Chronicles

Let me start by saying, somewhere, maybe on the right in that little blurb about me, it says something about this blog being sporadically updated. Apparently the last month has been the blank portion of the sporadic. I've got a lot of good photos filed away, and few stories to go along with them. They should, should, start appearing. Anyhow....

This was a PR photo for one of my favorite performance groups, Chicago Tap Theatre, and their new production, Hourglass in the Stop-Time Chronicles a Superhero Tap Dance Opera.


Give me a day or so and I'll find some more images from the production to show. I've gotten through the first pass of all 20 gigabytes. Now I just need to narrow down the next 3 gigabytes.