2022: 16 Go south, go west

The desert awakens, and with that, it also beckons. Six hours in the car takes me from Albuquerque to Tucson. Similar places in ways, very different in others. I have grown accustomed to the desert, the unique dryness of the air, even in springtime, when things bloom, and the sweet smell of flowers is added to the mix. Sleeping under a blanket of stars with an early morning visit with Venus, and I am reminded how insignificant my personal troubles can be against this backdrop of the wider universe.

2022: 15. Get sick, get well, hang around a inkwell

I have been fortunate to have avoided the dreaded Covid over the past 2 plus years. I have also been fortunate to have been vaccinated and boostered. Due to my age, I received booster shot number four this week. With it came the expected cruddy feelings the following day. After shots two and three, I was pretty much down for the count the following day. Shot number four was no different. Body aches and extreme exhaustion were on the menu again. I made sure I had little work responsibilities for the day after, and spent most of the day in bed. I think I logged about 16 hours of sleep. Again, good fortune to be able to just stay in bed and sleep. There is an interesting element to this experience. Usually when one gets sick, one doesn’t know how bad or how long the illness will be. Add the unpredictability of the Covid pandemic to the mix and anxious days or weeks can easily follow. There is something very different when you know what to expect, having voluntarily introducing a small bit of disease into your system. Riding out the after effects was not pleasant at all, but the understanding that the pain and suffering would be finite made things much easier to process mentally. A surrender to the reality of the situation was comforting, as was a warm bed in a quiet house. Today, I feel almost back to normal. With the time to do nothing but rest came some time to sit quietly with my thoughts and ponder the plenty I have in my life, including the ability to get sick and then get well again.

2022: 14 Heart of Glass

I have been exploring alternative processes lately in my studio. My path away from digital photography has been quite the journey, taking me through various film stocks, pinhole cameras, instant film, encaustics… and most recently, cyanotypes. Hand coating paper with light sensitive chemicals is another world of challenge and experimentation. One thing I learned very quickly was the benefit of using a larger negative to create cyanotype prints. Yes, collaged 35mm negatives can work, in their own way, but nothing beats a 4 x 5 negative (or something even larger.)

With this in mind, I have begun to purchase old, glass negatives from eBay. There is a whole world of decades-old imagery out there, just waiting to be rediscovered. Sometimes the image might be so unique that it commands exorbitant prices; I generally stay away from those sellers. I found a good source of “lots” of negatives this week. reasonably priced, but in varying degrees of quality and condition. Still, there are a few gems in the stack of negatives that arrived in my mailbox.

The image above is a prime example. I’m not sure how old the negative is, but it looks like it is early 1900s for sure. It also looks like it might not be in the United States. The appearance of the wall behind the costumed man looks Mediterranean, or possibly Latin or South American. The outfit the man is wearing could be a costume, or could be a cultural outfit…again, I have no clue.

However, my favorite part of this photograph is the obvious shadow of the photographer. What is often considered an amateur mistake is, in this case, a special tribute to those of us who wield a camera, documenting our family and friends, with no desire for fame or glory or recognition. As young photographers, we are taught how to avoid harsh shadows, and most certainly our own shadow creeping inside of our pictures. There are exceptions to this rule, of course.. Lee Friedlander is a prime example of photographing one’s own shadow. This glass negative does not seem to intentionally include the shadow of the photographer.

Nonetheless, I find it charming to see the presence of the artist in the picture. I wonder who these people are, where this picture was made, and about the fact that they are dead and gone now. I wonder if they are remembered fondly by a handful of family members, or if my discovery of a long lost negative brings some kind of cosmic attention to people whose legacy was lost to time. And I think about the photographer him (or her) self, and the tangential connection we now share.

2022: 11 Envy

Comparison. Success. Recognition. Validation. Awards. Rewards. Endorsement. Jealousy. Schadenfreude. Equity. Representation. Accolades. Envy. Wants. Desires. Needs. Love. Acceptance. What is enough?

2022: 9 A New Collaboration

Excited to be working on a new project with two fellow photo / artists from Europe.
Beware the Ides of March.

More to come soon…

2022: 8 Gratitude

Every once in a while, I am reminded of the good things in my life. It has been harder to do so after the past couple of years, for sure, but this week afforded me time to reflect. I am lucky to live in relative comfort, in a supportive relationship, with friends and (decent) health and no real “wants” as far as the basics of human life are concerned. Especially having carved out a creative life that fulfills and challenges me on a daly basis.

This past weekend, my amazing wife performed a solo concerto with the Santa Fe Symphony, and as I sat in the audience, I was reminded how special she is, and how good our life can be. We both have made choices to pursue our creative endeavors, often at the expense of more traditional societal choices and paths. But the rewards of the things we are able to do are so much worth it. Living an artistic life, with all of its ups and downs, is something I value deeply. The choice not to have children has also allowed us to pursue our creative journeys with more freedom and flexibility than others, and that, too is something I am keenly aware of and value deeply.

This week, aside from attending the symphony performance, I also worked on a new self-publishing project, recorded and edited my next podcast episode, and had two satisfying sessions with my improv team. I know that life throws curveballs all the time. health and wealth and stability are precious and precarious. But for this week, at least, I am able to feel satisfaction and gratitude. I wish the same for all of you, in whatever shape or form that might take. Thank you for being along for the ride.

2022: 7 Back to the Desert

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.

2022: 4 Re-visiting old work

Taking a knife to work from decades ago. It has been at turns liberating, frustrating, violent, and ultimately…rewarding.

“Any Day Now” by Elbow

What's got into me
Can't believe myself
Must be someone else
Must be

Any day now how's about getting out of this place
Anyways
Got a lot of spare time
Some of my youth and all of my senses on overdrive

Don't play Coltrane you will sleep at the wheel
Eyes on horizon
Don't sleep at the wheel

2021: 49 Fear and Loathing on Ebay

The life of a film photographer is sometimes an emotional minefield. The thrill of the “shoot and wait to see” process is often offset by soul crushing disappointment. Cameras are mis-loaded, film is exposed improperly, chemicals are exhausted… dust and scratches and fog, oh my. Add to the rollercoaster ride of emotions the pursuit of a working film camera. Sifting through Craigslist, thrift stores, yard sales and Ebay is a common pastime for film geeks. I experienced a bit of the bad end of the pursuit recently, and I’m still kinda pissed about it.

Why did I need to buy a 110 film camera? The bane of my existence in 7th grade, a shitty format that now seems so quaint and enticing. Fuck you, nostalgia. Lomography are like camera and film drug dealers to me. They are the only place to buy new 110 film cartridges. I bought a few rolls recently, not even owning a camera to shoot them with. So I jump on to Ebay, and hunt down a sporty, sexy old Minolta SLR zoom 110 camera. Yeah… a Rolls Royce of the tiny format. The camera looked good, was sold “as-is” but at a decent price. I rolled the dice. Of course, the anticipation of tracking a package from UPS is part of the thrill of buying something online. A 50 year old camera inching closer to my grubby hands. Of course, it arrived days after it was scheduled to be delivered. Of course, I opened the package immediately and popped batteries in and pressed the shutter. A weak, painfully slow reaction happened inside the camera…eventually I heard a faint click. No warning lights, no view to be seen through the viewfinder. Then…nothing. Nothing. In short, a lemon. A paperweight.

I decided since it wasn’t working anyway, I’d try to take it apart and fix it. Small, Phillips head screws held the body together. Simple to open up and poke around. Except that I am not at all mechanically inclined. My ten thumbs quickly dismantled the camera with no fucking way for me to even think of fixing it; never mind trying to put it all back together. In a fit of frustration, I threw the camera on the ground, where it burst into multiple pieces. I swept up the debris and threw it all in the dumpster. Case closed.

This is not the first time I threw money out the window on a non-functioning camera. My success rate is slightly over 50%, if I’m being honest. This one stung more than others though. Why? Was it that I bought into the hype over a format that was inferior when it first came out, swapping image quality for ease of loading and shooting? I scoffed when I heard Lomo was coming out with 110 film. And yet…and yet. So what do you do when you get burned by defeat? Do you walk home with your tail between your legs? Do you go home and cuddle with your Canon 6D, 23 megapixel lover who won’t break your heart? Or do you double down and fight against all odds to snatch victory from the jaws of 50 year old, dormant technology?

My new Minolta 110 slr zoom camera arrives in about a week.