2022: 7 Back to the Desert

February 12, 2022

Sometimes you have to throw caution to the wind and act impulsively. I am far from that kind of person, in all honesty. I labor over decisions and choices, looking at things from every possible angle before making up my mind.

*Note: maybe most of the time… perhaps that is why I love doing improv…thinking on my feet, in the moment…

In any event, this past weekend, I made a Saturday evening decision to jump in the car early on Sunday and drive the 6+ hours out to Tucson, Arizona. My long-term project shooting the saguaro cactus was in need of some “winter shooting” and I had a small window in my schedule. So, with the blessing of my wife, who is woodshedding in prep for a solo concerto, I headed out of town…camera in tow.

The skies were clear, the temps were warm…hardly the winter experience I was hoping for. Still, the light at golden hour (sunrise and sunset) was beautiful, and my Holgawide pinhole camera did not disappoint. Plus, I avoided the spiky surprises of the unnoticed cactus ripping into my flesh for this visit, so that’s a win, for sure.

Not sure how many more visits to the saguaro this project will require, but the silence of daybreak over the desert, with the sun peeking over the ridge of a distant mountain, not another person to be seen or heard… that is something I will treasure every time and is reason enough to return.

Experimenting with film, double exposures and Procreate. Pushing pixels is not a crime.

2021: 41 You Never Know What You're Gonna Get

October 16, 2021

Yes, I’ve gone on and on and on about my love of film. I’ve also gone on and on and on about my love of plastic cameras, and pinhole photography, and on and on and on. Cue the anticipation music, please. Or maybe Tom Petty is more appropriate? I shot a ridiculous amount of film on my trip to Arizona, but then, of course, all that film needed to be developed. And scanned. So the whole process takes time. A lot of time. And that’s a good thing.

The time between shooting and then seeing the results is when the magic happens. You have no idea what you captured. or if you captured anything. Or if you advanced your film correctly, or if overlapping images is what you were hoping for. Or if your guessing of extremely long exposure times were accurate. Or if the shadow of your tripod sits squarely inside the frame. Or if your film is fogged. Or unevenly developed. Or scratched. Water spots, dust, those little half moons from a botched loading on the reel. Such a minefield. Such is the life of a film photographer. Masochism? Probably. And yet.

And yet, that moment when all the film is developed and scanned. You revisit the journey to make those pictures all over again. You celebrate the triumphs, you lament the “almosts” or “duds.” You see things you didn’t see before. You embrace serendipity. You learn form the experience. You keep going. You keep shooting. Masochism? Probably..

2021:39 Why?

October 2, 2021

I just returned from a short road trip to the desert outside of Tuscon, Arizona. I was working on a long-term project, shooting the mighty saguaro cacti. The early fall days provided great light, and the nights were cool enough that a sleeping bag was welcome. I fell asleep to the sounds of coyotes yipping away in the distance. Not a bad trip at all.

So that is the reason ”why” I took the trip. On the way out and back, I of course shot the obligatory “road trip” photos. Somewhere into hour number 7 of the drive home, I went into deep thought mode. Why did I take these photos of old signs, rest stops, etc? Why? Really. We all do it, to some extent. Is it ruin porn? Is it a trope? Is it a cliche? This subject matter is like photographic catnip. Yet there is no good reason for me to take these photos. No good reason to share them, either. But I’m doing both. Why? Is there poetry in decay? Is there a feeling of superiority of not living in a place like this? Newsflash: I do live in a place like this. I’m a sucker for rust and dirt and sun bleached hues. I admit that. Folks come from far and wide to see and shoot these scenes. I don’t take my proximity for granted. But I really don’t know why I continue to take these kinds of photos.

I rail against the sameness I see on social media. I get frustrated by the perfection of digital image making. I shoot pinhole cameras, or use a busted lens to free myself of the obligation of the perfect, pristine image. And yet… and yet, I use my posh new iPhone to capture the same eye candy that any other novelty seeking photographer would capture. I don’t know why I do it, but I do it. My phone and my hard drive are filled with these kinds of images. I don’t think they’ll ever amount to anything other than taking up digital storage space. But I still take these pictures. I can blame Walker Evans, or William Eggleston for this trend, but I still choose take part. So here I share, guilty as charged. Don’t ask me why.

Postscript: found this great snippet of Henry Wessel Jr. that adds some fuel to my fire…

2021: 38 Heading South and West

September 25, 2021

Hard to believe that it was five months ago that I took my springtime road trip to the desert of Arizona. I am about to embark on another journey to spend some quality time with my cameras among the saguaro outside of Tucson. Guessing it will still be warm during the day, but hoping for a change in the light and the flora and fauna since my April visit. Plenty of film to expose, plenty of cameras to play with, and a new whip to carry it all in style and comfort. Very excited to move forward on the next phase of this ongoing project. As long as the spiders and snakes and javelinas behave, I should be in good shape.

2021: 16 Desert Life

April 17, 2021

Short and sweet… off the grid for a long delayed trip to Arizona. Photographing the “desert sentinels” also know as Saguaro cactus. Pinholes, and Lomos, and busted lenses, oh my! See you next week.

"check the expiration date, it's later than you think."

Flaunt The imperfections Issue #3: Available Now

March 12, 2018

I am happy to announce the release of my new zine. Issue #3 of my film-based photography zine "Flaunt The Imperfections" is available for purchase today at my website shop. The photos featured in this issue were created in 2017, during a trip from New Mexico, through Arizona, into the Salton Sea area of Southern California, before rolling briefly into Los Angeles... and a long drive home along the remnants of Route 66.

The title of this series is "Expiration Date." There are several reasons behind this choice. First off, I listened to the entire Pavement discography while making my solo trip through the desert. The lyrics of Stephen Malkmus were a subliminal roadmap for my image making. At times abstract, at other times bitingly critical, these words (and songs) were a great inspiration for my journey.

Secondly, as the social / political landscape in the USA continues to shift (or spiral out of control) I think it is a good time to assess the expiration date of long held beliefs, to look at the impermanence of man-made things, a time to ponder hope vs. pessimism, while being as good a moment as any to reflect on the idea of hubris.

As always when I shoot film, the excitement of not knowing what I've captured until much later is a re-connection with the original allure photography has held for me. The editing and layout process allows for a focused amount of time with the images, and by having the final results in printed form, I am returning the permanence that photographs once held, but is too often overlooked in our digital present.

The zine is available for purchase at my online shop for $15, (US sales only.)

You can view the work in a new gallery on my website as well.

Desert Sentinels: an introduction

January 16, 2018

A brief sojourn into Arizona last weekend offered a nice warm respite from the winter bleaks that are settling in here in New Mexico. I am endlessly fascinated by saguaro cactii. They appear almost human to me. As one traverses through the desert landscape near Tucson and Phoenix, the saguaro are ubiquitous. Each one looks unique. Each one seems to have it's own personality. The surrounding landscape offers other visual stimuli as well. The thick desert brush is both inviting and intimidating. At certain times of the year it can be deadly as well. Still, a quick jaunt with a new lens on my camera (an 85mm f/1.8 for you techie dorks) provided the seeds of desire for a future exploration and possible new project. Here are some results of my first tentative steps into the unknown.