This blog is a toddler. It is starting to walk on its own and speak simple thoughts. Since December 15, 2008, this blog has:
been reborn not once, but twice and been renamed three or four times.
371 published posts still accessible
60 published posts deleted due to self censorship, poor writing, culling, and other issues
123 draft posts that were never published
15,070 visits
50,558 pages visited
an average reader spending 2 minutes and 33 seconds per visit.
visitors from 114 countries
one evil offspring/brother blog, Hear Me Roar. - A stuttering attempt at validating, defending, and defining masculinity.
are you bored yet with the "greatness"stats??? I am.
I read last years post, One year onand got bored in the first few paragraphs. I wrote last year about all the changes in substance, style, yada yada yada. I am not as sentimental about this blog now as I was a year ago.
Moi, but I've changed since then
My art has changed in the past year. I've given up the notion that I want to be another Edward Weston, Ruth Bernhard, or Imogen Cunningham. You can read more about that here. I am more interested in mixing it up with a sprinkle of those giants, a bit of Robert Frank, a dash of Bob Guccione (RIP) and lots of my own psyche. I am less into celebrating the aesthetic art of the form and more into what the context of the moment means.
My two highlights for the year were trips to Rome and New York City. In Rome I found my spirit. In New York I found my soul. Both changed me forever.
Over the years I've made friends along the way, interviewed a few of them, and savored the comments they shared. Thanks to Carla, Joe, Terrell, Valya, Alex, Z, and many others.
So, enough rambles. Here are my favorite photos of 2010. You may disagree, but all of these are personal, beautiful, and somehow changed me. Some more than others, but they were important. Thanks to locations for being open to me. Thanks to the models for opening themselves to me.
Sorry about yesterday's rant. I am trying to stay away from politics in this blog, but some days are tiresome.
It rained hard yesterday in my area of California. I love seeing how the world looks on a dark rainy day through a wet windshield. It is how the world is.
We drove to Sacramento and went to the newly renovated Crocker Art Museum. If you went to it before the grand re-opening, it was great regional art museum that drew some impressive shows. With the remodel, they doubled exhibit space and have an amazing series of exhibits on African and Asian art, modern and postmodern art, European classics and one of the best western US and California landscapes paintings and sculpture collections. It is well worth the $10 adult admission. The Wayne Thiebaud exhibit was may favorite.
I've been blathering a bit too much and producing too little. One of my former bosses, Nancy, gave me some great advice on public speaking.
Be brilliant.
Be brief.
Be gone.
Follow those three simple rules in public speaking and the audience will love you. In honor of Nancy, here are a few pics. I am not sure this post hits the first goal, but the last two can be checked off.
I went through all my digital or scanned photos and chose some that I believe the legs are the key ingredient to the image. After some editing and post production work in Lightroom, I was ready to make a movie.
At first I used the online movie-making service at animoto.com. While this service is free for 30 second videos, longer videos cost a little bit. I opted to get the one year membership and made a few movies. It is a very easy tool. You upload the photos, choose background music from their free library, set a few parameters and then their program does all the work. In the end you get a slick video with little work. The downsides are the music selection is limited, you can not put in custom text/credit screens, and their is very little customization. The video at the very bottom was my first attempt.
After playing in that, I used iMovie on my Mac. It allows for much more customization and editing. I could also choose any song from my iTunes library, which I did. After a good bit of time of editing and putting in transitions and text screens, I made the movie you see here.
I thought loading it would be the easy part. First I tried blogger's video upload. While convenient, the output player was way too small. I then created a youtube account and uploaded it there with very tight privacy settings (unsearchable and not published publicly). I have a few concerns about posting this video there, but I doubt I will keep it there for long.
This is my second attempt at making this type of video. I see room for improvement, but I am happy with it as a beginner's effort. Any feedback is welcome. So, without further ado, here it is - Piernas Bonitas (Nice Legs).
I am back from Rome and am still digesting the food and the experiences . I am sure it will stay with me for a while. Along the way, I had a great idea for a photo series and am working on the planning for it. Sadly, it wont have nudity.
Candace 021010
Jet lag reared its head on the way back and cost me dearly. Somewhere along the trek home, I lost my diary/idea notebook that I kept in the breast pocket of my jacket. I've carried that with me everywhere for the past two years and had almost filled it. In Rome I bought the next one I would use when I filled that one. Now the first is gone and I've had to prematurely start the second. A good many of the posts on this blog were ideas captured in that book. It is either on one of the Lufthansa flights I took or in the Munich airport. I hope whoever finds it at least looks in the envelope taped in the back. It had $40 US in it that I had stored there for my taxi cab ride on my return. I would hate for the money to go to waste along with two years of reflections on life, art, art museums, travels around Europe and the US, and little things collected along the way. Maybe having a clean slate is a good thing, but I lost many great references and memories stored in that book. The trip was worth it and I love the city and experience, even though the loss of that book really hurts.
Mollee 020110
I am back at work and am waiting for the residual jet lag to hit this afternoon. I am sure I will have more to write about and images to share over the next few days.
Technically, space begins at 100 km (about 62 miles) above the earth's surface. There are other measurements that define barriers as well. Two thousand pounds is a ton. The distance from the earth to the sun is an astronomical unit (1 au = 93 million miles). For human males, I think the height barrier measurement for being tall is six feet.
Last month I was walking out of my class and Mollee and Andrea were chatting in the parking lot. As I got my car keys out, Mollee asked, "Karl, how tall are you?" I replied with my standard 6'4"-unless-I-am-wearing-heels answer. Mollee's only response was, "Damn. You are tall." I hadn't heard that one before.
When you are over 6', you are tall. It is curious how people have to tell me the obvious. It seems a bit absurd. They don't tell me, "Karl, you are white!" That is just about as obvious as my being four inches into space.
I do not complain about being tall. It is just how it is. I can reach objects on the top shelf and see the dust on top of the refrigerator. I've learned to either bend with my knees or squat when I have to do low-down work. My back is healthy and I need to keep it that way.
While I try to respect the people I meet, I do look down on them... literally, not figuratively. I have no choice. Sadly, most tall people compensate by slouching, which looks bad and is very harmful to our backs. After someone once told me to stand tall and be proud, I thought about how silly it is to slouch. There is no reason. I am tall, you are shorter. It doesn't mean anything except the obvious physical differences.
On rare occasions I meet people taller than me. It is odd to look up and see someone. On a few very rare occasions (only twice that I can think of) I've met women taller than me. One was my date to prom. It was awkward at first dancing with someone a half inch taller than me. It felt good. We both commented on how it was to be with someone similar. Nothing became of that relationship, but our prom pics are still unique for both of us. Here is an interesting article at the blog, The Other Tall Girl. It is good to read it from the woman's perspective.
Interestingly, all my girlfriends have been under 5'1". It is not that I seek out women that are over a foot shorter than me, but it is what I am unconsciously drawn to and that seem drawn to me.
A few years ago, my hair stylist told me my hair was thinning up top. I was getting "too tall for my hair." She said, "Don't worry, you are tall. No one will see it." I had to remind her that when I was sitting in her barber's chair, she could see it. So, when sitting, tall does not mean much
Another interesting place where tall does not matter much is in bed. Since both of our heads are on the pillows, we are the same height. So when sleeping, I am not tall. Sex though is another story. Being tall opens certain possibilities and rules out others. I've learned what works.
It is funny, there aren't too many tall jokes other than comments about the weather up there. I've heard short jokes though and wonder why short people get teased for that. Being tall does not make me a better person than others. Tall people get teased about having big feet. I have size 13 shoes. My dad, who is two inches taller than me and wears 15s, was nicknamed "acre foot" by his coworkers. I have to admit, that one is funny. I am sometimes called the "gentle giant." When I hear that I think about the song Behind Blue Eyes by The Who and wonder if those who call me that truly know me.
Speaking of "Gentle Giant" and other tall names and stereotypes, here are a few more.
Tall people are natural leaders. Untrue. I am not a great leader. I can lead when needed, but I am not better at it because I am tall. I've been lead by short people and followed them because I believe in them. It is the charisma and intellect, not the vertical measurements.
Tall guys are good at basketball and football. There is a reason I threw shot put and discus and did not play basketball or football. I am lousy at those team sports.
Tall people are physically awkward. Sort of true. I think we are no more clumsy or awkward than anyone else, especially growing up. The awkward part though is having to fit into small chairs, hit our heads on things, and deal with a world that is not designed for our height. I would not be surprised if short people have the same issues, just in the opposite direction. Where I can not set my car seat back far enough, they can't get it forward enough.
Tall men, or those with big feet, are generously endowed. I like that one and will neither confirm nor deny it.
I used to be a math and science teacher. I now teach science and federal compliance stuff at my job. Whenever I am debuting a new course, I always wear my black cowboy boots (my version of high heels) for good luck and also because they are my most comfortable shoes. Once, a coworker noticed this trend and asked me about it. I told him I did that to feel taller and to have more of a presence in the room. He did not know I was joking and stammered out, "But Karl, you are already tall." I had to laugh at that one.
As a photographer, I've noticed many of my photos are taken at my eye level. If the subject is a person, you will see what I see. At the conference I attended last month, I showed two photos of Candace where I am above her. Some of the viewers took a feminist reading of my message of male dominance over the subject. I am not consciously trying to show a dominance in these photos, just sharing what I see. Too be honest, the subjects or models in my photos often have just as much power as I do in the moment. I wonder if shorter photographers are told their work shows a submissiveness message because they are looking up?
At times, I would rather be shorter. Clothes would be easier to find. My knees would be comfortable when sitting in chairs. I would have more choices in the cars I could drive. I wouldn't bump my head on the overhead luggage bins every fucking time I stand up in an airplane. While these are huge inconveniences, I am not about to have six inches cut out of my legs to fit better.
So, what is the point of all this tall talk. Not much. I just saw Avatar, and after seeing the tall blue main characters, I got to thinking about height. To paraphrase a saying from an old post of mine, "It is okay to be recognized as tall or short by those who notice it, just please don't stare."
My mom wore out three Bridge Over Troubled Water albums by Simon and Garfunkel. She loves that album. I know every song by heart, even the ones I don't like (So Long, Frank Lloyd Wright). I spent many hot summer days listening to that album with my mom as I read. Each song has meaning to me. As a kid, my favorite was Cecilia due to its eccentric instruments and rhythms. I liked it even more when I hit puberty and understood the lyrics, I had figured out why he was washing his face -
Making love in the afternoon with Cecilia Up in my bedroom (making love) I got up to wash my face When I come back to bed Someone's taken my place
In college, I listened to The Boxer's lyrics for the first time. One part really spoke to me.
In the clearing stands a boxer And a fighter by his trade And he carries the reminders Of ev'ry glove that layed him down Or cut him till he cried out In his anger and his shame "I am leaving, I am leaving" But the fighter still remains
If you listen to the original recoding, Simon and Garfunkel sing "cut" with staccato clipping it short so the listener feels the punch the boxer just suffered. That was the point when I learned that articulation of words can add so much meaning to the message. It made me listen to music differently. I wanted to hear how Frank Sinatra, Tina Turner, Pink Floyd, Al Green, Pavarati, and many other vocalists said the words so they had more meaning.
I also felt that verse of the song spoke to me since we all "carry all the reminders of ev'ry glove laid him down or cut him till he cried out in his anger and his shame." What college student doesn't feel they are a failure in school, socially, physically, psychologically at some point?
In my thirties, this verse spoke to me.
Asking only workman's wages I come looking for a job But I get no offers, Just a come-on from the whores on Seventh Avenue I do declare, there were times when I was so lonesome I took some comfort there
All I will say, when haven't we taken some comfort in places we are not too proud of visiting. I do declare.
Yesterday, I wanted to listen The Boxer again. I found a 2003 version of it from a S & G performance on David Letterman. The video is at the bottom. Once you get past the interview, the music starts at 2:00. Part way through, I heard a new (to me) verse.
Now the years are rolling by me And they rock uneasily And I am older than I once was And younger than I'll be. That's not unusual. No, it isn't strange After changes upon changes We are more or less the same After changes we are more or less the same
That pretty much sums up a mid-life crisis. As pitiful and cliche as a mid-life crisis is, those lyrics are speaking to me and I am listening. I am not going to dwell on them too much longer, but they are important now.
I've listened to this "new" verse a dozen times now and found out a bit about it through wikipedia. It was not included on the original Bridge Over Troubled Water album.
The Boxer by Paul Simon and performed with Art Garfunkel
I am just a poor boy Though my story's seldom told I have squandered my resistance For a pocket full of mumbles such are promises All lies and jests Still a man hears what he wants to hear And disregards the rest
When I left my home and my family I was no more than a boy In the company of strangers In the quiet of the railway station running scared Laying low, seeking out the poorer quarters Where the ragged people go Looking for the places only they would know
Lie la lie ...
Asking only workman's wages I come looking for a job But I get no offers, Just a come-on from the whores on Seventh Avenue I do declare, there were times when I was so lonesome I took some comfort there
Lie la lie ... Now the years are rolling by me And they rock uneasily And I am older than I once was And younger than I'll be. That's not unusual. No, it isn't strange After changes upon changes We are more or less the same After changes we are more or less the same
Lie la lie ...
Then I'm laying out my winter clothes And wishing I was gone Going home Where the New York City winters aren't bleeding me Bleeding me, going home
In the clearing stands a boxer And a fighter by his trade And he carries the reminders Of ev'ry glove that layed him down Or cut him till he cried out In his anger and his shame "I am leaving, I am leaving" But the fighter still remains
Lie la lie ...
On David Lettermen
The original
x One final note, it is good to hear S&G still have golden harmonies. They still give goose bumps with their beauty.
One of the blessings and challenges of being in a photography class is the critique session. Every Wednesday, we put up our photo assignments on a big cork board under gallery lights. They are divided into the various assigned genres. We take a few minutes to get close and look at them and then sit down. We then begin the critique.
Last night, I presented photos of a veteran, painting with light, and experimental ideas. My photo that I was most excited was the experimental image of Candace Nirvana with a Salvador Dali painting projected onto her (see below). Due to reasons I can only guess about, that photo was the first chosen for critique.
Dali and Nirvana 1 Photo by Karl
My instructor pushes us to seriously critique photos. He discourages us from giving useless comments like, "I like it." or "It's fine." We need to discuss what works and doesn't work in the photo. He doesn't want the photographer to share any back story, we just judge the image by what is in front of us.
I've found three common areas of criticism, the quality of composition and exposure, the quality of the message and intent, the mixture of all of these for creating a finished or refined photo.
As you can imagine with a class of twenty-eight students, some are silent, some never shut up, and most are in between on sharing their impressions. You also get tons of praise and suggestions. One of my challenges is filtering the suggestions for my growth.
All of us have preferences on content, technique, and other elements. I appreciate hearing how others would have accentuated or minimized elements, cropped differently, and other changes. I also appreciate how others interpret my image, or tell me how it is doing nothing for them. Some have suggestions on tangent ideas based on my images. These are tough for me to absorb.
The words I cringe hearing are , "You know what you should do, you should... " Sometimes they have a really good suggestion. Most of the time, they are sharing their own photographic desires and visions that are neither areas that I want to do, or I even understand. One suggestion was "You should try projecting the same image onto nude men and women of various ages, shapes, and colors to celebrate their beauty. " I just nodded and listened. In my mind I thought about it and quickly realized, "That is not why I picked that image to project on this certain model. I wanted Candace in these photos because of her shape, skin color, poses, attitude, and many other intangible qualities.
When I hear these suggestions, I become offended because I wonder if they even appreciated what I created. It seems they instantly find ways to improve them. Did they even look at them beyond the first impression?
As I heard that suggestion and thought about it last night, I had a small realization. My photo may have been a spring board for them. I often see some photo and instantly have a big idea of where I want to go with that concept. The difference though is that I realize it is my inspiration, not necessarily a suggestion of where they should go with their art. My inspiration stemming from their art is a springboard into a new avenue of exploration.
Painting With Light - Mollee Photo by Karl
After we critiqued all the work, I put my photos into the "turn-in" bin and gathered my stuff. The photographer who made the suggestion approached me and asked about the technique of using an LCD projector to do this type of photography. I told him about my experience and I hope he goes with his ideas. Maybe my photo may be a springboard for him to create some great art.
So, I guess I need to accept criticism and ideas for my art while recognizing when the shared information is more about their art. If my art is inspiration for somebody else, that is pretty good as well.
Still nothing profound or interesting needing words to express. I'll let the photos speak again. All of the photos below are from the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art (SF MOMA). My photography class took a field trip there a few months ago.
We all have things we use everyday. They may be cars, computers, clothes, cooking utensils, cameras, looks, attitudes and many other things. We may have them, but do we own them? This is an important thing to consider in both photography and in every day life.
I grew up in Montana. I have two pairs of cowboy boots - one brown pair and one black pair. They are the most comfortable footwear I have. I wear them for dressing up, working on my parents' land, walking around a flea market, and any other function I can. I also own both pairs.
What does it to mean to own something? To me, it means that I control it, know how to use it and do use it. When I walk in my boots, I walk with confidence, every step making a clack, then a thud. I don't have to accommodate the heels, I know how to walk on it. They have become a part of me.
A few months ago, we got a new car that is surprisingly fast and gets decent mileage. I am learning to drive it fast, shift accurately, brake correctly, and steer through the corners, and enjoy it. I don't own it yet. My goal is to drive it like I am wearing it and then I will own it.
This summer, I finally owned my new digital SLR. I can manually change all the controls without having to take it away from eye. It feels natural in my hands and is an extension of me when I use it. I love owning it that way because I don't have to waste time in a shoot adjusting things.
The reason I bring these things up is that I think if I am going to have something, I need to use it to its best function. Why have something if you aren't going to use it. Isn't that just meaningless consumption? That applies to tangible things as well as intangibles like a look, a belief, or even a fetish.
Moses Owns that Guitar
Photo by Karl
How does ownership apply to photography other than camera and equipment use? I learned the answer when I recently had a photograph critiqued. One critic said, "She doesn't own the hat, she is just wearing it." It was true. The hat was just a prop. Later in the shoot, she started to "own" the hat.
Mollee Noir (Not Owning the Hat) Photo by Karl
Now I am thinking more about this when I photograph a model. This goes beyond what she/he wears. It is also what they are doing, how they look, how they pose, and the expressions they show. I don't expect the either of us to have this confidence from the first shot. Part of ownership is both of us growing to own the photo session. That takes time and rapport.
It is okay if the intent of the photo session emphasizes naivete, awkwardness, discovery, or other emotions, then it is important to acknowledge and capture the lack of ownership of the moment. During those sessions, we own the session, but are exploring and experimenting with an aspect of it. We may also be leading up to owning something new and fantastic.
Mollee's Owning Those Shoes and Hat! Photo by Karl
I've found it is important for either the photographer, the model, or both to have confidence and ownership in the photo session. For one participant, it may be a learning experience and growth, but I believe it is important for at least one to have an idea where the shoot is going and be willing to lead it. It is even better if both feel the same way.
So, the next time you put on a suit and tie, or sexy heels, or ride a bike, or give a flirtatious grin, think about your connection to it. Do you own it?
____ PHOTO NOTES - I believe Hana, Leila, and I owned that shoot that day. This photo was the culmination of a bond that lasted one day, but was enough to create my favorite nude photo I've created.
Mollee rocked in those heels. She loves the silhouette photo and is using it for her MySpace promotions.
Moses plays a mean bass guitar. He was jamming out when I photographed him. I used this photo for my Noir-themed photo because I like its mood and feeling. It may not have been too "noir" but I enjoy the hell out it.
