Polaroid Negative / Positive selfie (shot 6 years ago in Portugal)

2021: 46 Reclaiming Polaroid Negatives

November 20, 2021

I tinker. I putz. I dabble. I guess I need to keep my mind and my hands busy, otherwise the dark clouds can form. Enough said. I used to shoot quite a bit with my great Polaroid 360 camera. A glass lens, manual focus, Zeiss viewfinder, accordion bellows beast. I was inspired by the work done by Patti Smith, and back in the day, Fuji peel-apart film was cheap (like 10 bucks a box cheap.) Well, take a stroll over to eBay and you know those days are long gone, and Fuji isn’t even making the film anymore. So with a bare film shelf in my fridge, I had to put my 360 to rest.

I did have the forethought to keep the negative backing from some of my peel apart photos. Most folks would throw that part away, keeping only the nicely colored, long-lasting positive image. However, they didn’t realize that there was a salvageable “negative” buried beneath the backing paper and black, chemical coating. You can “reclaim” these negatives with a simple process using cling bleach and warm water. I went down the rabbit hole this week (tinkering, putzing) and reclaimed a bunch of old negatives…some shot over 6 years ago. I figured I’d share the process, in case anyone with deep pockets is still buying and shooting the Fuji dead stock and wants to get more mileage out of the film.

STEP ONE: Grab the left over backing paper from a recently (or not so recently) exposed sheet of Fuji peel-apart film. There are two sides, the one with the matte, black coating is the side you want to work with. Remove excess paper around the edges, if you so desire.

Bleach goes on this side

Don't bleach this side

STEP TWO: In a sink, place sheet face down on a flat surface. I used a small developing tray.

Paper removed, matte black facing up

The good stuff...bleach gel

STEP THREE: Using toilet cleaner bleach (the kind that is in gel form is really the best way to go, since it doesn’t run all over the place.)

slowly

apply

bleach gel

STEP FOUR: let it sit for about 30 secs to a minute.

Let is sit 30 - 60 sec

STEP FIVE: Rinse carefully with water. You’ll see chunks of black goo pulling off the negative. This is what you want to happen. Rinse until no more black chunks are visible, water runs clear.

Tilting a bit helps

Rinse with warm water

Watch the black rinse away

STEP SIX: Flip the negative over and rinse under warm (to hot) water, gently rubbing the surface with your fingers. try not to scratch, but even if you do, it’ll probably look cool. This step takes off any binding goo, but please note: you do not want to use bleach on this side.

Rinse the other side, rub gently with your fingers

STEP SEVEN: hang to dry

You’ll see a discolored negative image of the original photo, which you can take a photo of (or scan) and then invert in Photoshop, or the app of your choice. Do some adjustments to your liking…and voila! You have a cool, one of a kind, image. Rescued from oblivion, or at least the garbage dump. The fun thing about this process is you end up getting odd color shifts, surface textures, and rough edges that an Instagram dweeb would pee themselves over. I personally really like the look of scratches and emulsion distress.

The original positive

The reclaimed negative

Give it a try if you have some of this film lying around. In the meantime, I will write an angry crank letter to Fuji Corp. to beg them to manufacture this film again. Maybe if all the analogue folks out there do the same, we can drag these wonderful old cameras out of storage and shoot one of a kind (or two of a kind?) photos once again.

The final image, inverted and tweaked in Photoshop! Check out the janky, amazing frame.

2021: 45 Proof

November 13, 2021

Thanks to my ongoing obsession with Austin Kleon, I purchased a rubber stamp this week. My idea was to get something I could use to mark my working photos. Especially since my Japan photo book completely sold out this week, I wanted to try to reappropriate the proof prints in some way. I went to a local shop near my studio, and the next day I had my “PROOF” rubber stamp.

It’s a curious word, proof. Photographers or printers use it to denote a working version of a print; something not intended to be the final work to be seen, shared or sold. However, the word also has there, nicer, broader meanings and uses. Evidence for one. A photo, in many ways, is proof, isn’t it? Evidence that I was somewhere, I saw this thing, and I documented it photographically, thus providing proof of… what? It’s existence? My existence? All of this and more?

I then started to think about proof in an even broader sense. The rubber stamp could be used to validate, to empower, to prop up, to sway a viewer. The bold red ink, the all caps san serif typeface, set in 42pt Helvetica Bold; it’s screams of validation. Of existence. PROOF.

I think I’ll be using this stamp much more than I originally intended.

2021: 44 Planning and Randomness

November 6, 2021

I spent most this week on set for a TV production. Three overnight shoots in a row. Cold, tired and inspired. Shooting and editing TV commercials and web videos is the best part of my “day job.” Contrary to my photographic work, this kind of shooting entails the work of many people. Collaboration and team work are key. And although most of the game plan is set ahead of shoot day, there is always risk involved. Thankfully not the kind of risk and repercussions on a recent production up in Santa Fe; but often times, we don’t know how things are gonna go. Time is always against you on set. There is crew, talent, the weather, random “bogies” and all sorts of variables to contend with. Most of the projects I work on start with an idea in my mind. It is still a wondrous thing to see it come to life on set, and more fully in the post-production edit. That small nugget of thought becomes a real thing. A short story many people will view and critique. Everyone on set is there to manifest that original idea. It is an amazing thing to participate in.

Even though things are scripted, storyboarded, planned, blocked out, rehearsed… you never really know what you’re going to get. Is the talent scared or nervous? Is the director tired? Is that cloud overhead starting to drizzle rain on us? Throw into the mix the randomness of a technical challenge. In the photo above, we rigged a camera into a round, metal casing. The camera was turned on to record, and then the rig was launched from a moving vehicle. The idea was to replicate the view of a tumbling car, in the midst of a crash. We had no way to monitor the camera. We had no idea what the footage would look like. We had no idea if the camera itself would survive the tumble. On a set where thousands of dollars was invested, where 40 plus crew members, each with a specific skill and role, were on hand… we were at the mercy of the randomness of hurling an expensive camera down the road in a metal device. The best laid plans… as they say. Sometime you just gotta trust and try and surrender to the unknown. A good lesson learned at 5am on a Friday morning.

p.s……The footage actually looked great, as we all took a deep sigh of relief.

2021:43 The White Plains

October 30, 2021

Those of you who know me won’t be surprised to hear that music means a lot to me. Music inspires my creative process. Music provides relief from stress, and helps me concentrate. Or it helps me escape. I’ve even dabbled in the world of music in past versions of myself. These days, I like to support musician friends with my photography and graphic design…when it’s a good fit for my work style, and when I get creative freedom. Recently, I was approached by my friend Otto Geist, an experimental musician who records under the name The White Plains. His music is very atmospheric, and cinematic. It sounds like soundtracks to movies that don’t yet exist. Otto asked me to create artwork for his new series of releases, and I was happy to oblige. His music is great for donning headphones, dimming the lights and taking a bit of a mental trip to someplace else. I encourage you to check out his work by clicking the album artwork below. Better yet, support the cause by making an affordable purchase on his Bandcamp page. Thank you, Otto for letting me do my thing to bring visuals to your sounds.

Cyan

Magenta

Yellow

Black

Sebastião Salgado: *Churchgate Station, Bombay, from the series Migrations*, 1995

2021: 42 Obrigado, Sebastião Salgado

October 23, 2021

One of the pleasures of having a quiet night at home is stumbling upon a surprising film on your streaming platform of choice. I happen to be a A%*+#n Prime member, so after perusing their offerings, I found a wonderful documentary about the photographer Sebastião Salgado. I’ve seen his work many times over the years, and have always been impressed by his artistry and his compassionate eye.

This particular film, called “Meeting Sebastião Salgado” was remarkable, not only because of the breadth and quality of the work show, but also the display of love and compassion Salgado has for his family. It is logical to see that this love extends outward towards the subject matter of his photographs as well.

There was one segment of the film that stood out the most to me, however. Salgado discusses his process for approaching a project, which often takes many years and many trips around the world to complete. But I was taken and inspired to see how the photographer uses contact sheets, test prints and enlargements all throughout his editing process. Even though he has transitioned from film to digital, he still has his assistants create “digital” contact sheets of every image he shoots. He still reviews them with a loupe and a red china marker. He has file cabinets filled with impeccably organized test prints and negatives, as well. It was a fascinating peek behind the curtain of a great artist, to say the least.

See the film here: Meeting Sebastião Salgado

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..

2021:40 Undertow: New zine available now

October 9, 2021

Excited to share the details of my newest publication with you. Undertow is a photographic meditation on the majesty, immensity and dark power of the ocean. I had the good fortune of shooting extensively on the Atlantic coast this past summer, and I was so pleased with the experience of shooting in the water, that this zine came together quite quickly and very much to my liking. I am happy to offer the zine to you now.

The zine is 30 pages, spiral bound 8.5” x 11 “. The edition is limited to 50 copies, and all are signed and numbered. Cost is $20 plus shipping. I hope you order one today. I am proud of this body of work.

order here

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: 37 Instant Pictures

September 18, 2021

Why were Polaroid cameras so popular when they first came out? People wanted to be able to see the results of their photography as quickly as possible. How different is this desire from the quick “shoot and chimp” approach of most digital photography today? There is a lot to be said for having the ability to review your photographs immediately. There are drawbacks as well. We are constantly searching for ways to remove the need for patience. So much effort to save some time, be it a self-checkout line at Target or a cup of instant ramen. But what do we lose when we no longer have to wait? Anticipation is a valuable part of the waiting process. Do we savor a meal that arrives quickly? Do we spend time with a photograph that we can look at while we are still in the middle of an experience? Can we truly appreciate something if we are instantly gratified?