How many calendars did you get for Christmas?

Washington Square Park - NYC - 010211

Seems like I always get a few, but not this year.  None.  I will take everyone's word for it, we are in 2011.

I really miss that city.

As I sit

River Cam - 122510

It is a low-key Christmas.  I'm sitting in a Berkeley coffee shop while my wife is at mass at her uber-liberal Catholic parish.  I'm neither jolly, nor ho-ho-ho, but I am not a Grinch either.  After 41 Christmases, this day has little meaning to me other than a time to wish others well. 

I am not asking for a Christmas miracle to thaw my frozen heart.  My Christian belief does not rely on celebrating the false birthday of the religion's namesake.  The fact that the church moved it to be near a pagan solstice makes the date meaningless.  (I am not disparaging winter solstice, it is my favorite day of the year.)

Next year is tenuous.  Over half of the department I work in will be laid off.  We have four courses we will be tracked to.  1.  Job is safe for another year.  2. Job is cut immediately.  3.  Job will last x months until duties/responsibilities can be transferred or outsourced.  4.  Job is relocated and I have to move or quit.  We find out by January 31st.

My health has been declining for the past half year.  Most of it is self-inflicted due to handling stress poorly and adding more stress by my own stupidity to my life.  My life is no where near endangered in the short term, but I am doing a great job of taking a decade off it on the tail end.

My art is a high point.  I am excited about it.  I like the darker turn it has taken.  I am not just thinking of the images I made with Courtney, Valya and Moon, but in general.  I am starting to appreciate those tough bits of life around us that make us all the same, yet unique in how we approach them.

So, what are my plans for all this?  I need to take better care of myself.  That is going to be one of my two top priorities for 2011.  I need to find time to eat better, workout, and be outside. 

My other top priority is my art.  It takes two paths.  First, I need to actively and consistently creating and pushing it forward.  Second, I need to plan and implement strategies to get to the next steps - an MFA and teaching. 

Regardless of my job situation, I can work on these two areas.  I'd prefer to get laid off in 2012 since my wife will have her PhD and I can follow her to whichever university/college she teaches at.  The severance would be good seed money for helping with getting an MFA.  If I get the axe this year, I will simplify and find temporary jobs to maintain until I can move to the next step.  I guess if I get axed earlier, I will  have lots of time to exercise. 

So, I guess you were probably expecting a prophetic or (more likely) sappy Christmas message.  Not this year.  My wish for you though is based on the four gifts of faith - hope, joy, love, and peace.  I don't care if you are of my faith, another one, or none at all.  I think we all could use these four gifts.

Damn it. He is straying into politics again.

Joshua Tree National Park - 2009

I've been reading the news, blogs of friends, observing life and am getting a bit depressed by the culture wars, government intrusions, war, greed, environmental destruction, and other issue.  It feels like we are headed to a boiling point.

I've tried to keep politics out of this blog since I reinvented it unless the issues related to art and photography.  Today I make an exception... or not.  All this world drama will affect every aspect of life, including art.  I wonder where it is all leading to.

The fundamentalist Christians may think we are heading into the end times.  The liberals are worried that the Tea Party will set back the social institutions to an equivalent of Afghanistan under the Taliban, but with a corporate Christian domination.  The libertarians are up in arms about airport scans.  The  moderates are feeling left behind by all sides.

Last night I was talking about the last Star Trek movie with a friend and mentioned a few things about how San Francisco changes between now and the 23rd century.  My friend asked, "Will they be watching Star Trek at that time?"  My answer was, yes, but it will be called the news.  The earth in Star Trek is a pretty great place when Romulans or Klingons aren't causing problems.  All of the world is a happy globe.

I then thought about history.  I bet there is no time in history when drama was not happening and will probably be the same in the 23rd century as well.   It just feels more intense right now.

I also looked back at the history from 1930-1990.  I came to an interesting conclusion.  All of the stuff happening in the 1950s and early 1960s lead to the tumultuous late 1960s and through the era of malaise in the end of the 1970s.  The country had the New Deal Democrats in the 1930s and 1940s. We then had the McCarthy/Eisenhower era of the 1950s that lead to the Goldwater conservatives of the early 1960s.  We then had Camelot cut short and went to the moon and Vietnam.  The country went up in smoke as the baby boomers boomed.  They changed our world for better and for worse (more for the better, but not all was good).  The dark events of the McCarthy era, the Vietnam War, civil rights, gender equity, and many other issues were building to boiling points and that generation acted out.   The country needed a catalyst to get to that time where cultural rebellion sprung up from all areas.

I think we are in that time again, but it is going to be harder than the 1970s.  The traditional American culture was not ready for the youth rebellion during those years.  They were not able to defend the status quo and so the impact of those movements still live today.  The problem we face now is that the opposition learns from prior failures and evolves (or intelligently designs) into a different entity. 

Glenn Beck, Sarah Palin, Paul Rand, and many younger conservatives are succeeding at whipping up a fury of energy for their cause that the 1960s and 1970s status quo couldn't.  I think they are ahead of the progressives at this moment in creating a movement.  The conservatives are brilliant at building up their empire while the progressives are complacent.  Reagan and the GOP were brilliant at this and after coming into power in 1980, they were able to sweep aside so much of the liberal agenda.  Clinton tried to make a few changes, but the strong GOP made him a moderate president overall.  Bush 2 was headed toward a similar fate.  He was a mentally week president that could not muster up support for the GOP agenda... until September 11th.  On that date, the GOP gained enough political clout to ram their agenda though again.  They didn't use protests.  They used corporate power backed by government to do their bidding. 

Once President Obama* came into office, the GOP saw they needed to squelch the new "progressives".  The "progressives" that brought Obama into the Oval Office were only concerned with electing him, and not what he or the true progressives wanted to achieve**.  Once he got there, his star faded and celebrity washed away.  The "progressives" that elected him were content in getting him there and grew complacent and the Tea Party came into being.  They stirred up the fear and hate base with the simple message of "No Obama".  They have nothing on their agenda except that, but that is enough to keep their base fired up and to put Palin in contention for 2012.  They have all age groups and are slowly growing their ethnic bases.  I believe we may be seeing their equivalent of the liberal uprisings of the 1960s and 1970s.

I also believe the progressives are much better at stirring this type of energy faster and broader than the conservatives.   The next two to four years will be the tipping point for whether we will be free or corporate Christian America will be reigning over us.

We are building up for another culture war in our country.  It is going to be harder, dirtier, and worse than the 1930s, 1960s-1970s, and Reagans 1980s.  Both sides are media savvy, smart, idyllic, and unwilling to compromise.   We might think we are on the correct side of the war, but they think they are too. 

*I voted for Clinton in the 2008 primaries and I voted for Obama in the general election.  He is a brilliant man, cares for our country, and does not make rash decisions.  He was also hesitant to make the hard decisions and follow through on tough issues while he had control of the two houses and the White House, like Bush did.  I know the Tea Party would have risen up against Clinton if she had won, but I think she would be better at fighting back.  We need a smart, scrappy President, not a contemplative, thoughtful one.  That is a sad statement, but a true one in my opinion.

** It is obvious that many of Obama's supporters wanted him in office, but were not true progressives, at least in California.  How could we elect him and still pass Prop 8, banning gay marriage?  Many Americans supporting Obama didn't care about what he and the party wanted to accomplish.  The "supporters" wanted a handsome celebrity minority president and to finally pat itself on the back for being post-racial.  Sadly, this became evident in these midterm elections when his broad 2008 base ignored him by not voting and didn't support the important changes he, and the Democrats needed to make.  They may have doomed him to being a one term president by focusing on him rather than what he believes in and could do with true support.

Take a good look at yourself.

Andrea - NYC - 0610

You ever wonder how others see you?   What do they think of you?  How are you perceived?  Even those of us not suffering from narcissism must wonder about these questions.


BTW - I am not seeking affirmation, validation or anything particular.  I'm just going through a self-reflective period.  I am still on a self-imposed break from writing anything deep or profound.   Too much big swirl around me and I have to keep my head above water.

Photo note - Andrea on our trip to NYC.  You can find more of my photos of her here.  She is a great photographer herself and will be an artistic force to be watched.

The quiet reminder of what once was.

Isleton, CA  - 110710

It is not necessary to change.  Survival is not mandatory.  ~W. Edwards Deming

 The West was already near death when I was born out here.  It died a few years later.  No open lands.  No unmarked lands.  No signs of pre-settlement.  No way to go back and see it as the unspoiled virgin beauty it once was.  We defiled it.   We "owned" it.  We killed it.  I count myself as part of the "we".

We look back at the early pictures (of the west) and marvel that the sheer size and beauty of the space could have absorbed and hidden for so long the damage done by unrestrained self-interest.  Our destiny is to suffer the imprisonment of places like Los Angeles, with its twelve lane "freeways," though whether in this we have the courage to find self -knowledge remains unclear - Robert Adams

We catch ourselves thinking, in the bitterness that can accompany the unexpected sound of an aluminum can bending underfoot, that it would have been merciful if Columbus had been wrong and the world flat, with an edge from which to fall, rather than a circular cage that returns us to our mistakes. The geography seems hopeless. - Robert Adams

Another spin around lessens the meaning of the date

Wonder Wheel - Coney Island  - New York - June 2010

Certain holidays make me nostalgic, especially ones that have childhood memories.  Halloween is one of them.  I have no desire to go back to my trick-or-treating days though I lament the number of times I've been around the annual cycle to visit it since my childhood.

Sometimes I celebrate every trip around the yearly ferris wheel.  This is my 13th time around it in California.  I quit trick-or-treating at age 12.  I've been in this state longer than I enjoyed the candy years.  Thinking about previous Halloween's and the times enjoyed on them, I start to wonder what has magic any more.  Christmas lost it about 10 years ago, about the same time as New Years.  I enjoy July 4th mostly because it is my brother's birthday, but that firework of a holiday is losing its shimmering brightness.  Even my birthdays are feeling dull.

I am not depressed about these diminished dates.  I think it may be due to having lived through 41 of them, they have lost their magic.  This may be the only time I lament not having kids is that I may have felt the wonder of these days through and with them.

I am learning to celebrate other days.  These days have no date attached to them.  I celebrate the days I get a massage, get to photograph, get to help out the charity I support, get to make love, get to eat a great dinner with someone(s) special, and get to sleep in late without worries.  Holidays have a faded memory of value.  I reflect on them more than celebrate or feel excited about them.  Maybe it is time to let go of those dates lacking a purpose instead to celebrate and  enjoy those that come and go and are forgotten.

Book 'em Danno

Steve and Danno - Production still

Actor James MacArthur died yesterday.  He was best known for his role as Danny Williams on the original Hawaii 5-0.  I have two strong memories related to Mr. MacArthur.  The first is the divisiveness Hawaii 5-0 caused in my childhood home and the second is a family member's fracas with the late actor.

MacArthur's Danno never had the dark brooding sexiness of Jack Lord's Steve McGarret.  His character was McGarret's right hand man.  The original Danno (I will write about the newest iteration of the show another time) was quiet, reflective and tough as hell.  He did not flash emotions and seemed almost creepy at times.  While most women were infatuated with McGarret, my mom had the hots for Danno (along with Robert F. Kennedy and Leonard Bernstein, both of whom she met.)

My mom, brother and I watched the show religiously every week.  Being a psychiatric nurse, she would use her analytic mind and try to get into the science and logic of the show.  We would discuss motives, characters, and what was realistic and what was fake.  I enjoyed those evenings and still get excited when I hear the timpani drum roll that kicks off (arguably) the best tv theme song ever.  Even though this show was shared time with mom, it caused a lot of tension in our home.

Intro to Hawaii 5-0


It was not my mom's crush on Danno that bothered my dad.  He had his crushes as well and both knew that was normal.  My dad refuses to watch dramatic television, especially shows with violence.  He always has been that way.  He grew up a Quaker in eastern Pennsylvania and has a strong pacifist nature in him.  He hates seeing murder being used as entertainment.   At the time, Hawaii 5-0 showed more murders than any other television show.  It greatly bothered him that mom would encourage us to watch the show.  He believed these shows lead to more violence by teaching violence.

Neither my brother, nor I, have become murderers... yet.  We watched Steve, Danno, Chin Ho, and Kono kill off lots of baddies.  I think it was by discussing the show we were able to analyze the darkness and morality of the issues as well as acknowledge that it was fiction.   I don't know if my dad understands or appreciates the enlightened way we watched the show.  My mom taught us more about the dark side of human nature while keeping us safe than any other authoritative figure in our lives.  I thank my dad though for trying to keep us safe and our minds clear of this dangerous knowledge.  He was trying to raise us to be conscientious men.

Even though my mom, brother and I spent many hours with Steve and Danno, it is my dad, and his brother Carl, that makes us connected to the late Mr. MacArthur.  It all happened in the 1950's in a bar in western New Jersey.

My dad was home on break from college.  He and my uncle Carl, just graduated from high school, snuck out and went to a bar to meet a few friends.  The rest of the story varies a bit, depending if it is my dad or my uncle telling it and I will share only the common bits.

While drinking with the group, they noticed another group hanging out in the bar.  That group included James MacArthur.  According to both sources, certain members in both groups were trying to stir up some drama by telling Carl that MacArthur was insulting his (mom, girlfriend or car - depending who is telling the story).  MacArthur's friends were doing the same with him.

At one point, the two met up and all the friends formed a circle.  My dad had his brother's back if needed, but knew Carl could handle it on his own.  MacArthur and my uncle got in close and started talking in heated terms.  At one point, when tensions were getting really high and the first swing was imenant, one asked the other something like, "Is it true you said...?"  The other responded, "No, I didn't say that."  They both started asking more clarifying questions and soon discovered they had been set up to fight.  After the discovery, they both went to the bar and got drunk together.

So, I want to raise a glass and salute James MacArthur for being a rich part of my family's life in two very different ways.   I am glad my uncle didn't kick your ass.  I am thankful you went onto a successful acting career.  Your blue eyes will be missed, especially by mom.

Below are three parts to the episode string when officer Chin was killed.  You even get to see Steve cry.




Part 3 Link
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tcm91wmFm4Q&feature=related

New version opening.

Enlightenment vs. Dogma

SF MoMA - 102810-2

SF MoMA - 102810-2

 

On this date in 1553>  Michael Servetus, who discovered the pulmonary circulation of blood, is burned for heresy in Switzerland.  History Channel "This Day in History" update.

It is scary how people are still so afraid of science and what we are learning from it. I am not proclaiming against any one faith.  I wish though we could be a bit more open minded.  I guess that is what separates the "elitists" from the others, openness to being wrong and learning more.

I guess for many ignorance is bliss and dogma is absolute.

Winter

Winter on Yellowstone River

A little while ago I wrote a post about why autumn is fave rave of seasons.  UL wrote a follow up on both autumn and winter.  Her winter post asked, "What is winter for?" I wrote a comment for her that post and she recommended I post it here as well. 

Lines to Her Heart (Photographed on a cold day in late November)

We are having a very warm October in northern California. It is supposed to be 91 in SF today, which is a novelty to me (I've lived here for 13 years). I am hoping to go up to the Napa/Sonoma wine country this weekend to see the grape vines changing colors.

As for winter, maybe it is my dark side, but it is my second favorite season. I love the short days, long nights, angular sun, rain/snow, bare trees, cool days and cold nights. I love skiing (both types) and breathing in the cold air into my lungs. I love walking in the snow (something I miss since moving from Montana) and hearing the crunch of it under my feet. There is nothing more peaceful than walking during a quiet snow fall.

I find winter very erotic and sensual. The red of the wines, the glow of the fire, the warm food, and the need to be beside someone. The long nights give us time to explore each other without feeling guilty of missing daylight playing and chores. All of these put me much more in the mood than spring flowers and bright days.

Maybe another reason I love fall is that it is the foreplay for my winter. Who doesn't love a whole season of foreplay?

I lost my virginity in winter, fell in love for the first time in winter, and also lost a friend in winter (see link below.)  Winter is not subtle in its attributes or what we humans do during it, at least not for me.

Below are some links to other posts I wrote about winter.  At the bottom is a zen video showing both the beauty and solitude of winter, and one young man's life during it.


The beauty of cross country skiing.

The story of a friend's suicide on a cold January day.

"It's not personal, Sonny. It's strictly business."

Movie still - The Godfather

It's not personal, Sonny. It's strictly business. - Michael Corleone to Sonny - The Godfather (see movie clip below)

When in doubt, take it personally - Ollie

Nobody really gives a fuck about you, it is up to you to make your art important.
Don't go against your intuition.
Two choices in life - doing it or becoming bullshit.
 - Duane Michals

I need to tip-toe around this topic since some of the parties involved may read this.  I recently heard of a photo project that some acquaintances completed. A few of the key people in it knew I had a strong history with very similar projects, especially with this subject, material and theme.  I know they've seen my work and it is as good as the stuff I've seen from the project.  For some reason though no one thought to tell me about it or ask me to join.

At first I was furious.  How dare they do something they know I have done in the past and have very strong work to contribute.  Are they running a good old boys/girls club on this?  Did I alienate myself from their group?  How could they forget me?

After stewing on this perceived slight, I went to the final meeting of my NYC travel group to choose the final photos for our book and exhibition/gallery showing.  We each put up our top two or three dozen images and had to narrow it down to six for the book and three for the exhibit (the book and exhibit could overlap).  I had four themes for my photos, Sex in the City, On the Sidewalks, In the Museums, and The Usual Suspects (The usual sights of the city.)  Our instructor, Ron, facilitated the redaction exercise.  We went as a group and chose the final six and three for each person.  The individual photographer had a major say concerning his/her own choices, but we had to look at it as a complete book of 16 photographers and how all the photos would work together.

We came to my images second and they were ruthless.  Ron and others were saying things like:
"This one doesn't interest me. "
"Cliche."
"No point to this photo"
"This doesn't say anything about NYC."

I got quiet and softly said, "Ouch."  Ron then said, "Look, we want the best book we can make.  The critique and selection process is hard, but that is how it is.  If you ever hear art and photo directors for magazines and books during their selection process, it is ruthless.  If you are looking at getting an MFA, you had better get used to this type of moment, because it will be 100 times tougher and happen all the time."

We got down to my final six images.  I was hurt that a few others were not selected, but see how these six work together and were actually some of my favorites from the beginning.  It hurt, but it worked.  From that moment on though, I chose to be ruthless in my opinions of the others' work if I felt it did not live up to what should be their six best.  It's strictly business getting the best book.  It isn't personal.

That is the rub though.  Art is personal.  When others critique and pull out my favorite photos, it feels like they are ripping a part of me out as well.  In my cold rational mind, I understand appreciate the role of redaction in selecting a body of work.  I wrote two long posts about it in July.

In that instant, I learned two things that lead to a tie-in to the original issue.

1. Redaction is crucial.  Only the best should be shown.
2. If I am going to go into this for a new career, I need to get a thicker skin and be able to defend my work better when presenting it.

Movie Videos & Movie Scenes at MOVIECLIPS.com 
After thinking about those two lessons, I looked at our group photo from the trip taken with the great photographer Duane Michals and I remembered his wise words.
 
Nobody really gives a fuck about you, it is up to you to make your art important.
This quote truly applies to the art world and business.  No one gives a fuck about me, my work, and how I feel about it.  We wanted the best book.  The images chosen from my group may not be all my best, but they work best for the book.

The same goes true for the acquaintance who did not bother to ask me to participate in her project.  In all likelihood, she forgot about me or if she had thought of me, I didn't have the cache, history, portfolio, and prior body of work to part of her project.   It probably was business on that decision, and personal friendships should not have any part of business.  She and her peers are not in business to do me a favor unless I can offer them something back of value as well.   In other words, they really don't give a fuck about me.

Now what I have to figure out is how I can be included in the next project and find out why I wasn't considered for this one.  From that I will learn and be ready for future opportunities.  It may not be with them, and it may be a better one.

Don't go against your intuition.
I had obviously chosen the final 6 photos as part of the larger group I presented.  Some part of me told me to include them and the rational part of me knew that any 6 could have been chosen.  The final 6 are good and I am proud of them.  My intuition was right.


My intuition about my work that is very similar, and probably in the same league or better than the stuff I've seen in the project I was not included in tells me they missed an opportunity for some great stuff of mine.  That is my fault for not putting myself out their more, not theirs.   In a way, it is their loss, but not really.   My work is probably meant to be somewhere else and they got what they wanted.

I know what is good of my work.  Nobody else gives a fuck about it or me, unless I get out there with it and force them to look at it.  Most will say no.  A few will say yes.  The important thing to remember is: It's not personal, [Karl]. It's strictly business.  That is how I will view your role with my work as well.  You are just business when it comes to my art.



Two choices in life - doing it or becoming bullshit.
That pretty much sums up the other two quotes.  I just have to do it.  Everything else is bullshit.

SPECIAL NOTE: Thanks to Ron and crew for the great trip, experiences and for the creative project.  We created some good stuff.  By the way, I do give a fuck about your stuff.

Nine years past September 11th

Is there ever redemption?

I don't call it 9/11 or 911.  Those are models of Porsches or the emergency phone number.  For me, it is September 11th.  I was going to work in San Francisco that morning.  By the time I was crossing the Bay Bridge, the first tower had collapsed and the call had gone out to land all planes.  The skies over the city were filled with airliners waiting to land at Oakland or San Francisco.  We were scared crossing the bridge, not knowing what could be targets.  It is important to remember that three of those flights were headed to SF.

I found this video a few months ago and chose to share it here.  It is important to see an image of what the towers were like before the carnage.  We all remember what they looked like that day as they burned and fell.

I have no profound words, just sadness.

Photo note - Taken across the street from Ground Zero in June.

Boredom and lust

Valya - 080710

Boredom: the desire for desires - Tolstoy

Ever notice how similar the body feels when overwhelmingly bored or full of lust?  You can feel both burning through your body and hear the crackle of electricity in your head.  The tingling static charge desiring to do something, whether a new adventure or sex consumes all you think about.  All you know while existing in either states is that something had better happen... now.  True hell is living in both simultaneously.

Lust is the craving for salt of a man who is dying of thirst - Frederick Buechner

Of all the worldly passions, lust is the most intense. All other worldly passions seem to follow in its train. - Buddha

Culling the Herd - Part One

Part I - Excuse me, are you going to use that?

One of the hardest parts of photography for me is the reduction process.  I've heard it called "culling the herd"," redaction", "thinning the forest", or "deductive selection."  I think of it starting out feeling like a hair cut and ending with it stinging like dozens of little skin biopsies.

In A.D. Coleman's essay, "On Redaction - Heaps and Wholes, or, Who Empties the Circular File?" from his book Depth of Field -Essays on Photography, Mass Media, and Lens Culture.  He argues for the absolute necessity of this discipline in photography and art. 

For most workers, the ratio of potential images (negatives) to actualized images (prints) is low, as is the ratio of images actualized minimally (as contact and/or work prints) to images approved by the maker for public presentation via exhibition, publication, or other vehicle.

The question of redaction - of "putting in shape for publication"- is therefore a crucial one.  To use a distinction from general systems theory, redaction is what transforms a quantity of images from a heap to a whole.  The ability to redact is a hallmark of artistic maturity.  As the photographer Lonny Shavelson has said, "Photography is about editing.  If you don't edit your own work, you're not a photographer." (Emphasis by original author)

All photographers must go through their images and throw out the ones that don't work.  The first 60% are usually pretty easy for me.  I may feel a little sadness that the image failed and I missed something special, but my heart knows it has to go.

The next 25% feel a bit more personal and painful, kind of like plucking my eyebrows.  I tell myself those are the images I can come back to some day and make something else with even though I almost never do.

The final 10-14% eliminated are very painful.  By that time I've spent hours working on them and trying to either print (if from a negative) or edit (digital) them into something magic.  At some point though I realize  there are not enough tricks up my sleeve to save the image.  It has some fatal flaw I recognize that keeps it from making the final selection.  Each discarded image feels like a chunk of my flesh was ripped off and leaves me raw for a while. 

Why must I put myself through this artistic pain?  Why not just put them all out there and let the viewer decide?  The answer is simple, dilution.  If I put out too many similar images from the same series, they become diluted and the overall punch of the series is diminishes.  The photos taken before and after the prime shot may be very good, but as a set, they can reduce the beauty of the prime one and bring the set down.

Twelve significant photographs in any one year is a good crop. - Ansel Adams

Robert Frank had to do this.  He took over 28,000 photos for his The Americans book.  In the end,  Frank chose just 84 images to show his vision.  That means he discarded 99.7% of his photos to get to his finished product.  At a retrospective of his work last year at the SF MoMA, I saw some of his contact sheets from the series.  I could tell which ones were instantly tossed, which were ok, but should be tossed, which had potential, and which one was the "it" photo.  It would have been painful to make those decisions though because so many could have been "it."  As painful as that may have been for Frank, I doubt he could have done any better than the ones he selected.  He gave us a gift of his sacrifice.  He reduced down to a perfect set of photos that will always represent a perfect set.

As I've mentioned many times before, I don't like the photos taken by Diane Arbus.  Someday I will elaborate on why in a formal criticism of her work.  For now though, let it be simply stated I don't like her photos.  With that said though, there are some aspects of her artistic discipline I deeply respect.  I envy her ability to "cull the heard" down to about 80 or so photos that represent her body of work.  She may have had more if she had not taken her life at the young age of 48, but to have kept her total count that low is true dedication to ensuring only her best work got out there.  Each photo is an iconic representation of her work and is recognizable to the photographic arts community as hers.   I respect her passion to controlling which photos were good enough to share her name.

During the photo shoot I build a pile of images.  During the first review, I begin the reduction of the pile to find the right ones.  Sometimes I get a few true gems. Other times I get no gems.  Either way, I must make sure that my work meets my standards of my artistic vision.  It isn't easy.  If it was, everyone would be an artist.  This leads into my next post...

Part II  - Thinning the "Pixel Forest"*
Why artistic/photographic redaction is more important now than ever before. 

* The term Pixel Forest  comes from a great set of writings by friend Dr. L.  Please read her writing about the digital world we cohabitate.  She sums up the ethereal digital world perfectly.

Portland, Oregon

Moments

This morning I listened to the duet "Portland, Oregon" from Loretta Lynn's Van Lear Rose album featuring Jack White on guitar and vocals.  This song makes me smile for many reasons,- the location, themes, Jack's guitar and voice talent mixing with Loretta's, and what I know of both performers.

Location 
I've been to Portland many times.  It is a clean, progressive city in the northwest tip of Oregon.  It  is flanked by Mount Hood to the east.  The Columbia River forms the city's northern boundary.   Most  days seem to be overcast and gray, but the rare sunny days are true beautiful gifts.

In the mid 2000's, Portland boasted having more strip clubs per-capita than any other US city.  Most of these strip clubs are small "ma and pa" establishments.  The performers tend to move away from the typical strip routines and perform more burlesque or performance art pieces that have strong erotic content set to individual sound tracks.  In other words, they aren't just stripping off pink thongs to a Bon Jovi song.

Portland quiets down after midnight.  It becomes a quiet city under rainy skies.  I've spent a few nights there in a hotel's bar.  The bar in the video is not much different than the ones I patronized.  They are kind of empty and full of solitary people who want something more for the night. 

Well Portland Oregon and sloe gin fizz
If that ain't love then tell me what is
 Well I lost my heart it didn't take no time
But that ain't all. I lost my mind in Oregon

Themes
I imagine this song is about two people visiting the city separately, but finding each other over drinks.  For reasons that may be both right and wrong, they extend their night together until the next day.  They are reflecting back on it with a smile.  They know it was one night "party" with each other and may feel a small bit of regret, but mostly a fond one-time memory.

In a booth in the corner with the lights down low
I was movin' in fast she was takin' it slow
Well I looked at him and caught him lookin' at me
I knew right then we were playin' free in Oregon

Performers
In my opinion there are two types of female voices in classic country music.  The first is the angelic pure voice that melts your heart with its beauty.  Patsy Cline had this type of voice and style.   Listen to her sing "Crazy" to hear the purity of tone and the beauty she shared.

 

The second type is the sultry and worn voice.  Where the first type melts your heart, the second either stokes your heart's arousal or breaks it from the sadness of the singer's story.  These voices may have been tempered by smoking, whiskey, and over expression to create that mix of eros, pathos, despair, dark night clubs, and broken marriages, Loretta Lynn has the second type of voice.

Loretta Lynn is a country music legend.  Her autobiography, Coal Miner's Daughter,  was made into a Oscar winning movie.  Lynn's library of country music has too many themes and styles to list here.  Combined, they show how she has lived a full life and sang about it.  The memories may be good, bad, old, or new.

Jack White was the singer and guitarist for the Detroit neo-punk blues band The White Stripes.  White's music is known for his hard, bluesy guitar playing and solos that are both technically and musically amazing.  His lyrics tend to be dark and reminiscent of childhood, relationships, and his perceptions of them.  I saw The White Stripes in 2005 and it was the best concert I've attended.

Portland, Oregon starts with White's high-pitched, fast, pizzicato guitar lick that sounds like a humming bird's heart.  It is a mix of blues, country, and flamenco guitar styles that provides the feeling of growing interest, excitement, and buzz of the night, yet slightly deadened by the alcohol fueling the moment.  After White's solo, the tempo slows down and he slowly strums a repeated string of notes as other instruments join in.  They speed the tempo up again and grow in volume right before the singing starts.

When you combine both of them, their duet takes on a new life.  You can hear Jack's young male voice (he is 35 years old) mix with Loretta's sultry experienced female voice (she is 75).  To me, they show his young, brash yet shy, eagerness and her wizened yet quiet desire to make the night one to remember.  They both sing and perform very well to their respective roles in the song. 

White and Lynn then take turns singing individually and ending the song together as they sing the songs final lines: 

Well sloe gin fizz works might fast
When you drink it by the pitcher and not by the glass
Hey bartender before you close
Pour us one more drink and a pitcher to go

And a pitcher to go [repeat]

This is not an important song in the annals of music.  It doesn't tell an important story or share deep parts of the human psyche.  It is a short story of a short moment in two people's lives.  It does not idealize or romanticize the night, it tells the story and alludes to the role of alcohol, location, and opportunity in making the night go its path.


Portland, Oregon
Loretta Lynn and Jack White


Well Portland Oregon and sloe gin fizz
If that ain't love then tell me what is
Well I lost my heart it didn't take no time
But that ain't all. I lost my mind in Oregon


In a booth in the corner with the lights down low
I was movin' in fast she was takin' it slow
Well I looked at him and caught him lookin' at me
I knew right then we were playin' free in Oregon


Next day we knew last night got drunk
But we loved enough for the both of us
In the morning when the night had sobered up
It was much too late for the both of us in Oregon


Well sloe gin fizz works might fast
When you drink it by the pitcher and not by the glass
Hey bartender before you close
Pour us one more drink and a pitcher to go


And a pitcher to go [repeat]

What did you decide?

All Your Dreams - NYC

Life is the sum of all your choices.  ~Albert Camus

But adults need to be allowed to be adults. ~ Z

Outie - NYC

More NYC images.

My Moonrise, My Citizen Kane?

Movie Still from Citizen Kane

Moonrise Over Hernandez, NM - Ansel Adams

Ansel Adams had Moonrise over Hernandez. Edward Weston had Pepper Number 30.  Richard Avedon had Dovima with Elephants. Orson Wells had Citizen Kane.   I have Yin and Yang.  I do not list these giant's iconic photos and movie and my work as being on par in quality and beauty, but to share what they may all have in common.  For most viewers they are the single piece of art everyone identifies with their creator.

I wrote a short post last night about which photos models choose to use from our work together.  At the top I put the photo Leila uses in her Model Mayhem portfolio, Yin and Yang.  My friend UL wrote a comment about the post and the image.

Yin and Yang

The one you posted here is one of my all-time favorites of yours. I like the yin-yang of it, and the beauty of the alabaster bodies against the black. Stunning and somehow pleasing to the psyche.

Others have written:

stunning b&w. love the emotions - Drusilla Killswitch @ Model Mayhem

This is one of the greatest shots I have seen on MM - Digiphotoarte @ Model Mayhem

 One even wrote a poem for the photo and posted it as part of their critique.

A snowflake
on midnight's window
spirals around my centre
stirs the vortex of my desire.

Wonderful entwining of human forms here - love how one body merges into the other in Geminesque balance. - Jac at Photosig.com

I appreciate all of the comments and compliments of this photo.  This is a special image for me and I am proud of it.  When Leila, Hana and I created it in 2004, I was standing on a ladder above them as they lay on a black rug.  As with almost all of my photos, I spent little time staging since I am not too particular with every detail meeting some predefined concept in my head.  This moment and the pose lasted one or two photos before the models moved a bit to a new pose.  The whole thing took maybe forty seconds.  I mention this because part of the success of the image was serendipity.

Dovima with Elephants - Richard Avedon

Yin and Yang has a rich aesthetic beauty for me.  As UL wrote, "Stunning and somehow pleasing to the psyche."  I agree and I like that description.  It is a relaxing piece to look at, but does it have much more than that?

I believe Yin and Yang lacks complex meaning.   I have many other photos I think are more important including some recent work from New York, Nevada, and Rome.  They make me stop and think.  I want to explore them and discern what they mean to me as the creator of them and also who I am.  I seek the deeper meaning with them as they get under my skin and make me think.  Yin and Yang does not do that for me as either a creator or a viewer of it.

Maybe I have to accept Yin and Yang, and how it reflects on me, in two different ways.  First, not all of my art has to be about something.  It doesn't have to carve deep into my psyche and share truths about existential issues.  Yin and Yang can exist to simply celebrate beauty and aesthetic.  Second, even with its success I have not pigeon-holed my art into making all my images like it.  I am not Anne Geddes.  While I have pride in that photo, I am free to make what I want and not be limited to cloning prior success.  I have to remember Walker Evans may be remembered for his Share Cropper photo series, but my favorite photos of his came from his late-in-life experiments with Polaroid cameras.

Walker Evans - Polaroid

Walker Evans - Polaroid

Walker Evans - Polaroid

A Montana Soap Opera

Site of the Moment - Going by at 80MPH

While driving around Montana, almost every historic landmark records the location’s importance to one of three events in the state’s history:

• The Lewis and Clark Expedition
• The Battle of the Little Bighorn (Custer’s curtain call)
• Chief Joseph and the Nez Perce’s exodus across the state as they tried to escape the US Calvary and flee to Canada

I grew up in the south central part of the state in Billings.  Billings had all three of these historical events happen in close proximity to it. Custer and his cavalry were wiped out about 50 miles to the southeast. Chief Joseph and his tribe had a minor skirmish near the town of Laurel, about 20 miles west. William Clark, Sacagawea, and a portion of the Corp of Discovery came down the Yellowstone River that flows along the south side of the city on their way back east.

Of all three, I’ve studied the Lewis and Clark expedition the most and feel a deep sense of pride of living in the area they explored. Their mission was to explore the Louisiana Purchase and find a Northwest water passage from the Mississippi to the Pacific Ocean. While everyone on the entire trip is worth learning about, my hero of the expedition was Sacagawea and I want to write about her today.

Sacagawea was a Shoshone woman who was kidnapped as a child by the Sioux Indians. When she was a young teenager, a French trapper named Charbonneau won her in a game of chance.  By the time she was fifteen, she had married him and was pregnant when they met Lewis and Clark in current North Dakota during the first winter of their expedition.

Lewis and Clark hired Charbonneau as a guide for the next year’s trek to the Pacific. Charbonneau was a lousy guide and worthless to the expedition.  Sacagawea became a leader, guide, naturalist, interpreter and many-time savior of the expedition while taking care of her newborn son.

One of Sacagawea’s first heroic actions was when she calmly rescued the provisions, scientific equipment, journals and other essential items that had fallen into the Missouri River after her husband’s boat had tipped. Without her quiet determination, much of the important information of the trip would have floated away.

The expedition met other Indian tribes along the trail. Almost all of these interactions were peaceful due to the fact that the local tribes felt the group must be peaceful since they brought a woman along and that she was the interpreter.

While every day was part of the soap opera, the story grew more and more intense as they tried to find a water way over the Rocky Mountains of current Montana. They kept going up the Missouri to its headwaters and then up the rivers that joined to create that river at current Three Forks. They were running out of summer days and knew the winter snows were coming soon. If they did not get over the mountains before the snow fell, they would have to survive the winter in Montana. They did not have the provisions, lodging or other key items to do it though.

At the most desperate moment when they were at the end of the one of the tributaries, they saw some Shoshone braves on a hill. The braves reluctantly invited the explorers back to their camp. As the expedition and the tribal leaders sat around a fire, Lewis and Clark tried requesting help getting more supplies and information about getting over the mountains. Even with Sacagawea’s interpretive help, things weren’t going well.

At one point, Sacagawea became quiet, started shaking and crying as she looked at the Shoshone chief Cameahwait.  She suddenly sprang up, calling his name, hugging him and crying. He looked at her and started crying and hugging her. She had found her brother… the only surviving member of her family from the time she was kidnapped.

With that warm bond restored, the Shoshone offered horses, supplies and a guide for trade to help them get over the mountains. Due to this help, the expedition barely made it to the Pacific before winter.

Now is that the ultimate soap opera moment or what? All was about to be lost and through the love of brother and sister reunited, all was saved. Every time I think of that moment, I imagine being there and witnessing how the moment changed history in the instant.

Sacagawea helped the expedition the whole way. While Lewis and Clark loved and respected her and often treated her as an equal, it was not easy for the fifteen year old woman. At the end of the trip, she and Charbonneau were released from their contract. Sadly, she died almost a decade later.

The location of the family reunion is now under the Clark Reservoir in southwestern Montana. I drove by it on Sunday and remembered the history lesson this place held. Never underestimate the importance of anyone. She or he may become the most important person instantly.

If you want to learn more about the Lewis and Clark expedition, I suggest watching Ken Burn’s excellent documentary about them. Much of it was beautifully filmed in Montana and the story he shares is well worth it.

Hold

The Sensual 7 Seconds (S7S) was a great blog for me.  I learned  much about myself, my art, and my world by writing it and reading the comments.  It made me grow beyond it.

The S7S started in a sexually, emotionally, and artistically  frustrating time for me.  My relationships with everyone close to me were strained, my art was stalled, and I was panicking over turning 40.  Most of those have passed and those that haven't are either never going to go away or are being accepted.  My life is not peachy, but I am accepting it better now.

I am creating a new blog, with the same address.  This blog is shifting focus to a new theme, feel, and drive. It will have some of the same basic things as the old S7S, but with out as many frustrated hormones driving it.

My new blog is not a promise to be better than the old one, just a progression or evolution of who I am now compared to then.  It will hopefully be better for me.

I heard a great interview with an author who just wrote a biography on Mark Twain.  Part of Twain's journey west was an effort to reinvent himself from being Samuel Clemens.  Part of the beauty of the internet and the "pixel forest" (great term Dr. L.) is that it is easy to reinvent (or at least re-imagine) myself.  The one rule is to be true myself through it.

In the interview, the author talked about the Twain's need to completely rid himself of all old friends, acquaintances, and contacts who knew him as Clemens.  If he didn't do it, then he would not wholly become Twain.  I was wondering the same thing for this blog.

I have no plan to push away those who have followed the S7S for so long.  My conundrum though is should I create a whole new blog, new address, everything, with nothing but a link on the side bar to the S7S, or just create changing the name and start it on the next post of the old blog.  Unfortunately, I can not create a new blog fresh from the past without losing my blog friends and followers.

The other potential source of pain is losing the readers I have with the changes.  I always have a hard time seeing a favorite tv actor in a different show than the one that I was introduced to him or her.  I would have a hard time seeing Alan Alda in a tv series other than MASH.

Maybe the reality with that is the same as artistic output.  Any artist who pushes themselves to create what is important to them will go into areas that their prior audience may not like.  Creating the art is the important thing and whether or not there exists anyone to appreciate it is a risk, but is also a part of creating art.

So, to all who read this.  I hope you find something in this new thing.  Some will be familiar, some will be new, and some will contradict what I have shared in S7S.  I hope you will hang on with me, but if not, I wish you well and I understand.

See you soon with the new.

Empty Again in Wise Poverty - Sabbatical

 "Time, time, time, see what's become of me"
Hazy Shade of Winter - Paul Simon

 The Lucky Poor 

A beech tree in winter, white
Intricacies unconcealed
Against sky blue and billowed
Clouds, carries in his emptiness
Ripeness: sap ready to rise
On signal, buds alert to burst
To leaf. And then after a season
Of summer a lean ring to remember
The lush fulfilled promises.
Empty again in wise poverty
That let's the reaching branches stretch
A millimetre more towards heaven,
The bole expand ever so slightly
And push roots into the firm
Foundation, lucky to be leafless:
Deciduous reminder to let it go

- Eugene Peterson

It is time to do the spring cleaning in all parts of my world.  The backyard is a mess.  The dust bunnies have multiplied out of control under our bed.  The back porch needs to be painted.  My garage studio needs to come down.  My spirit needs to be purged of the cobwebs that catch useless things floating about in my existence.  It is time to reboot myself, not in a formal religious cleansing of grace, but a deep scrub of who I am and until it is raw and allowed to heal in the open air.  It is time to be Empty again in Wise Poverty.

A few posts ago I mentioned this blog needs a restart, reboot, renovation, or just a simple removal.  I am going to be on break for a bit.  It is time to revamp this old blog by painting the walls, hanging new art, and sprucing up the window treatments.  It is also time to take all the photos down as clickable links to enlarged images.  I need to protect my photos.  Thanks to Dr. L, Alex, and Stephen for that tip.

While I am away on sabbatical, check out the great blogs listed on the right side of this page.  You can also mine my old posts for a few juicy nuggets.  I may post an update or image every once in a while during the break, but I need to renovate and protect this blog and myself.

If I spent an average of thirty minutes for each of the 330 posts, then I've dedicated about 165 hours of writing and many more to getting images ready.  With all that work I put into this baby, I really need to take better care of it so that both you and I get what we need out of it.  For me, a chance to voice my thoughts, ideas, feelings, emotions, experiences, and desires .  For you, hopefully you will find something interesting, humorous, arousing, inspiring, thought provoking, arousing (I really like that word), or just pretty to look at.

To all my blog readers out there, please share the title from one or some of your favorite posts from this blog via the comments section.  I will update this post with links to them.  For blog authors, please feel free to put a link to your site, blog, MM profile, or whatever you feel should be linked to via the comments section.  I will also update this post with those active links.

Greatest hits as requested by readers/bloggers
Proust Questionnaires
Rome
Men Take the Light
Galicia
Hasta luego mi amigos. 

Sing me out Simon and Garfunkel


Hazy Shade of Winter
Time, time, time, see what's become of me
While I looked around
For my possibilities
I was so hard to please
But look around, leaves are brown
And the sky is a hazy shade of winter

Hear the salvation army band
Down by the riverside, it's bound to be a better ride
Than what you've got planned
Carry your cup in your hand
And look around, leaves are brown now
And the sky is a hazy shade of winter

Hang on to your hopes, my friend
That's an easy thing to say, but if your hope should pass away
It's simply pretend
That you can build them again
Look around, the grass is high
The fields are ripe, it's the springtime of my life

Ahhh, seasons change with the scenery
Weaving time in a tapestry
Won't you stop and remember me
At any convenient time
Funny how my memory slips while looking over manuscripts
Of unpublished rhyme
Drinking my vodka and lime

I look around, leaves are brown now
And the sky is a hazy shade of winter

Look around, leaves are brown
There's a patch of snow on the ground...

Look around, leaves are brown
There's a patch of snow on the ground...

Look around, leaves are brown
There's a patch of snow on the ground... 



One more thing... I am not taking a break from reading my favorite blogs.  I need to read those now more than ever.  They help guide me in ways that are hard to describe.

Getting to know you... um... I mean me.

 41

To paraphrase the Beatles, "I heard it was my birthday."  41.  It is a quiet birthday filled with warm wishes from many friends.  Thanks to all in blog world and Facebook who sent birthday messages.  I also want to thank UL from What We Saw Today for her birthday wishes on that fine blog.

Candace - 030910

A birthday gift to me with this photo... I love it

In honor of me, (feels kind of selfish, but its my birthday so I don't feel too bad)  here are my answers to my questionnaire. 

1. What is your favorite word? Sensual
2. What is your least favorite word? Hopeless
3. What turns you on? Getting to use all five senses.
4. What turns you off? Arrogance - nobody is that good.
5. What sound or noise do you love? A romantic moan or the wind rushing through trees. They are equal. Interesting how both involve the movement of air in a special way.
6. What sound or noise do you hate? Mosquito buzzing by my ear while trying to sleep in my tent.
7. What is your favorite curse word? Ah fuck me...
8. What profession other than your own would you like to attempt? Photography teacher
9. What profession would you not like to do? Crime scene clean up.
10. If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates? "Surprised?"
11. What is your idea of perfect happiness? A simple trip (anywhere in the world) with a sensual beauty who loves being on both sides of a camera.
12. What is your greatest fear? Not doing what I need to do in this life.
13. Which historical figure do you most identify with? The composer Percy Granger. Everybody thought one thing about him based on his public life, but he lived a completely separate one in private.
14. Which living person do you most admire? Virgin empire founder, Richard Branson. He has grabbed life by the balls and is living a rich life that is pretty damn responsible as well.
15. What is the trait you most deplore in yourself? Starting too many things and not finishing enough of them.
16. What is the trait you most deplore in others? People who only see complex issues in black and white or right and wrong.
17. What is your greatest extravagance? Cameras, a Hasselblad and a Nikon D700 and all their peripheral equipment are my latest ones, but I do use them heavily.
18. On what occasion do you lie? When it would spare someone's feelings or when the lie will not hurt anyone and is more expedient than dealing with the truth.
19. What do you dislike most about your appearance? I am not fixated on it too much, maybe a little less weight, a little more hair... actually I would like a better wardrobe.
20. When and where were you happiest? Watching the aurora borealis outside of my Billings, MT home when I was a kid. They usually appeared early on the coldest mornings. My mom would wake everyone up to go see them. The silence of them dancing in the northern sky with their green shimmers still gives me peace.
21. If you could change one thing about yourself what would it be? I'd be a bit more determined on the harder things.
22. If you could change one thing about your family, what would it be? Instilling the desire to go for it and to appreciate that desire in others.
23. What do you consider your greatest achievement? Haven't created it yet and don't give a damn if I do. Once you have created that, what else is there to do with life.
24. If you died and came back as a person or thing what do you think it would be? As either a woman or a tree in a park. Both would give me enlightenment on what life means.
25. What is your most treasured possession? My senses.
26. What do you regard as the lowest depth of misery? Hopelessness induced by other humans.
27. Who are your heroes in real life? Dr. L, Z, Mrs, Joe, Beth, Terrell, my wife, and Renee.
28. What is it that you most dislike? Having to entertain large groups that I don't really have an interest in for multiple days.
29. How would you like to die? Without knowing it happened.
30. What is your motto? Heh... how about that. (As a statement, not a questions). NOTE I typed this a few weeks ago. Since that time, my new motto is, "In 100 years there will be all new people." We need to live our lives with keeping that in mind.