Showing posts with label Sam. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sam. Show all posts

July 22, 2011

never hit the press

0

Hi photo peeps -- it's been awhile. But I know you check in every so often, as I do too.

I've been at my job for almost five months now...crazy how time flies.

It has been hard for me to separate my own work vs. my job work. But from time to time I will find myself shooting just for me, even on the same roll as I am for my job.

I sometimes forget that the newspaper I work for doesn't want to see pain and loneliness. It wants to maintain its carefree, small-town feel, even though the city is growing larger and larger with a diverse population that is struggling to find its way.

And yet that's what I am most drawn to. The kid playing by himself. The man sitting on the curb under the weight of indescribable heat as cars whiz by and ignore him. The woman whom others look at condescendingly for scolding her child under her breath in a language unfamiliar to them.

I won't lie, though. Some shots I take do warm my heart. But most are rooted in childhood innocence...and once the smile or laugh fades all I feel is empty.

Clearly I need an income, but I also need to fulfillment. I want to make discoveries. I want to make a difference.

Do you?




March 19, 2011

Jacki might find this interesting...

0

Caitlin Atkinson is a fine art photographer whom I found while Google-searching (you'll never guess): "fine art photographers" --amazing I got that result, I know.

But the first photographer I clicked on struck a chord with me about the conceptual work Jacki has done and continues to do.

Atkinson has only one series on her site with just eight photos, but it's worth it to look at: http://www.caitlinatkinson.net/chapter1.html



This is her artist statement concerning the series "Chapters":

Chapters
 A few nights ago, I locked myself out of my apartment for the third time this year. While I sat trying to decide what to do, I was overwhelmed with the thought that my life seems composed of one mistake after another; that I am living through a seemingly endless series of disappointments. No matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to get it right.

Whether it is an awkward public interaction, unreal crisis, or moment of social disconnection, ordinary life is full of abrupt occurrences that create discomfort and isolation.  It is often shocking and painful to discover how unsympathetic and harsh the world can be when we fail. The consequences of our transgressions, however small, leave us feeling inept and alone.

The photographs I create are all constructed scenes inspired by my own encounters with this fear and failure. My interest is focused on these breakdowns of everyday life and the subsequent relationship with defeat. The sad humor and vulnerability in the situations I stage allow viewers to identify with the character I portray. In exposing my own shame and seclusion, I am giving name to the anxiety that plagues us all. The images then serve not simply as an illumination of the feeling of embarrassment, but as representations of undisguised human nature.

March 6, 2011

Photojournalism practice at the Wisconsin State Capitol: Take 3

3

For the past three Saturdays I have traveled to Madison to take photos of the protests outside the State Capitol to get some more photojournalism practice in - since that's one of the many types of jobs I had been applying for. After applying for a position as photojournalist for my hometown newspaper back in October, I finally got an interview at the beginning at February. :)

The first time I went, on Feb. 19, the crowd was a mixture of anti-Walker/bill protesters along with some tea party and Walker supporters. The experience in and of itself - political beliefs and opinions of the budget repair bill aside - was absolutely incredible and breathtaking. The photos I took that day lacked depth, however, because I was so overwhelmed by the sheer number of people there and snapped pictures of nearly every sign I could see. Most of the frames I shot were of the protesters as I marched behind them, and occasionally I would turn and walk backwards to get the front of them. I will emphasize this again: I walking AS I was shooting, and sometimes doing so BACKWARDS. Not a smart idea in a mass of thousands of people. Many shots also turned out looking posed and unnatural. I was so concerned with taking photos every second that I wasn't lookind around for the less-typical shots. And I'm pretty sure a giddy smile was plastered on my face. I was like a tourist...just in a city less than an hour away from my home. I call that my get-a-grip-of-yourself-Sam phase. Shots taken: 500+ And they looked alot like this:


The second time I went, on Feb. 26, the crowd was pulsating -- many more protesters there than the Saturday before, despite the snow and cold. My tactic this time was to not focus so much on capturing the crowd itself, since shots from any day would look almost indistinguishable from any other publication/news broadcast. I tried different angles, went up on the curb and staying there a while to let the crowd pass by me and snap the shutter when something was actually there...not just because something filled the frame. That day I waited a little more than a half hour in line to get inside of the Capitol. And yes, I went through another get-a-grip-of-yourself-Sam phase ---I clicked at everything, only later realizing that my pictures looked EXACTLY like every other person who uploaded them on Facebook or Flickr. Pictures are not videos, so my excitement over how loud the protesters were inside didn't translate in each frame. And the aerial shots I took? Not that great. Though at the time I thought they were. Shots taken: 400+, like this:


-----Then, the unthinkable happened: I got a call last Wednesday night from the managing editor of my hometown newspaper...and he offered me the job!!! The next day I met with him to go over the details, and my first day is tomorrow!! I can honestly say this is the happiest I've been in months! ----------

Yesterday (March 5) I went back to try to get this photojournalism stuff down. Afterall, that will be my title in just a few days, so I better seem like a deserve it. This time I could be more focused. I wasn't phased by the crowd this time, not only because it was smaller and less vocal (other than while Michael Moore was there giving a speech), but also because I could picture myself in the role I was about to fill. My shots turned out much better. I took about 300 this time, many of which were valid shots. This time I looked for action and emotion. I found this both in people who shouted from on the street as well as those who just stood stoically gripping their signs. Most of all, I took the time to stop walking and set up my shot to avoid camera shake and motion blur. I wasn't 100% successful, but I think I did much better.

Here are some shots from March 5 -- feedback would be much appreciated :)



A protester dressed as Governor Scott Walker and handed out pink slips to those in the crowd at the Capitol Saturday, March 5.







A protestor reads the list of items currently not allowed inside the state capitol.




Wisconsin State Capitol Police Chief Charles Tubbs signals the last group of protesters who were escorted out of the Capitol late Saturday afternoon.

January 10, 2011

First Attempt at Engagement Pics and Special Request!

2

One of my best friends - Karen Henao - asked if I would take her engagement photos this past weekend. She wanted me to do the wedding pics too...but she decided I would make a better maid of honor -- a compliment either way ;) Her fiance Ryan Hurst (also an RA @ SNC) isn't so psyched about the cost of a wedding considering they have to graduate in May, find a place to live, plan a wedding...all before the big day: June 10, 2011. It's a Friday.  

So...I told her that I would ask around to my awesome photo peeps if anyone would be interested in taking her wedding photos (pre-ceremony, wedding, reception, dance, the whole shebang). Karen said that she wants to place a lot of emphasis on the photography portion of the wedding budget, so think 'ca-ching,' and duh, you can hang out with me, too :) They are also thinking party bus...c'mon how could anyone turn this down?? Mary I know you've got lots of experience doing this gig, but I wasn't sure if you could do this as "Freelance" work or if you have to go through your place of work. Would anyone be interested? Karen's never even been to a wedding before, so she asked me to help out as much as possible with the planning...which as you can see is not much time to work with.  

Please let me know as soon as possible if you are available on that date/interested/know someone who is. The wedding is June 10, 2011 at Mayville, WI - about 1 1/2 hours south of G.B., a little south of Fond du Lac off of 41.

Here are some of the photos I took over the past weekend...in the freezing cold up at SNC and G.B. I took 533 photos and Ryan picked out his favorite 100 which they both got down to about 50. Here are some of my favs - not edited, cropped, rotated or anything yet but just a taste of what's in the mix. What do you think?







December 4, 2010

Assuming people recognize their ideas, how should they look after them?

0

I don't believe you can look after an idea. That sounds like one of those Japanese electronic pets. It won't do much good. A good idea cannot be separated from the motivation it provokes. Probably, really good ideas are acted on because they're telling you to change your life, or do something about it.

I think we probably all have ideas that [are compelling], but we turn them away at the door. Because big ideas are scary. I think that is what inspiration is. Inspiration is something that blows you off the path that a moment ago seemed like your life. And most people are frightened of that, and they turn that idea away. They turn the inspiration away, because they'd rather have security. You have to be prepared to live in the wilderness. I'm making it sound too dramatic, but on the whole if an idea is really good, it will not fit in to the known framework.

You could say that's the paradox: if it's incommunicable, it means it's dumb. But if it persists, and you feel that you have to go somewhere with it, it will change you and end up changing the world. I believe that each of us creates the world. We create the world for ourselves. And we create if for others. I actually think that's what life is for. It's what makes life interesting, how we share this creative potential each of us has within the world. It can be very insular, just about fulfilling the potential of the work that follows the commitment to an idea, or it can be about being as open as possible to the unknown. Most people need a bit of both, don't they?

- Antony Gormley

November 24, 2010

in response to "Apology" since, you know, i write too much and it wouldn't let me fit this in the comment box...

3

Shane (and others),

We all have the right to express our feelings -and especially here in this blog since we no longer have class together. That is why it is OKAY for you to feel hurt by what you may have felt was a lack of engagement in the blog. And it is OKAY for you to question things, too.

Sometimes the truth hurts, and yeah, like Mary said, it did sting when I saw your post, even though you labeled it “not a threat”…but did that title emerge before or after you wrote the post? You don’t have to answer that, but knowing that you might offend someone by saying something when you really don’t mean it in that way usually means that you felt offended by something/someone initially.

I check the blog daily too, even though I may not post, and when I don’t see any new posts or comments, yeah it’s a little disheartening, but only because I love to see what’s going on with everyone and how I can be a part of that, and you all for me. Sure I feel some guilt when I’m not posting, but I also know that stretching myself thin at this moment in my life would probably break me. And I need to be strong so that I can graduate in December and get out of this hypocritical Norbertine factory -you know, other than the English faculty J

But I do keep reminding myself that if someone doesn’t comment, or if they don’t post, that they still care, but that other things in our lives are taking up some of that [creative] energy. I know this because we wouldn’t have kept up with the blog this far, as Mary indicated – after class – if we didn’t. I wouldn’t be talking about a book project with Beth, and my grandma and my parents if I didn’t care.

I also know that I trust all of you enough to be able to directly say to you, hey, I would really appreciate it if you could give me some feedback on these images, or, hey, what have you been shooting lately, and could you post some images? And, Shane, it’s perfectly fine for you to ask us if we are really committed, and to tell us that we need to make sacrifices .

Time can be a funny thing. We count by days, but I think creative time works on a different clock. When I wake up in the morning, I may feel exactly the same as the morning before, and then again, some days I just feel different – capable of doing anything. For a span of time (perhaps three days) Beth practically avoided her other homework because she could think of nothing other than her farm photo project from intro and how to make that the highlight of her senior show. What she would write in the program, in the descriptions, how excited she was to send out her invitations to her community in hopes that some of those shown in the photos will show up.

She was on a creative high, and it was infectious, because that’s when we started talking about all the possibilities. But it doesn’t happen all the time, and when it’s not, atleast for me, I just have to look back to those moments and have them help me fuel to my next creative destination. And sometimes, I have to literally push myself to get started.

Maybe from the outside it looks like the blog is running on empty, but if it captured our daily thoughts and feelings like a twitter feed I know it would reveal otherwise. What I know for a fact, is that those of us who have been active on the blog will continue to be, because we care about our work and that of our peers.

I think that's how we need to really see each other now. Not as classmates, not as teacher and student, but as peer artists. I know we’ve discussed this before, but I still think our current mentality has been irkingly (is that a word?) similar to that of the past. I think it would take the pressure off of you if you stopped thinking that you have to be spending outside time posting new artists on the blog for us to look at to inspire us, when instead we should be able to use each other as a resource by asking for feedback when we do have the time. If you need a break, that’s okay. You have no idea what it means for us that you still do post on the blog, but we would continue to post, even if you stopped altogether…though I’d prefer if you didn’t.

When you posted about one of your students in relation to Mary's work, I was curious about VCU's blog. So, yeah, I creeped on it all the way to the first post this year, because it was intriguing. Your students engage with that blog to a higher degree than I ever have with ours. They have some really neat projects going on and some of them seem very committed. And, yes, it is probably an assignment for them to be posting, whereas we now don't have the allotted time specifically for a photography class. But in any case, it was refreshing to see the life in that blog and to read about the struggles that your students face as they relate to our own as well.

I came across (I don't know whose) photos that looked like Beth's Lady Gaga-like series. I sent Beth a facebook message containing a link to the blog for her to check out, and that was the first time she knew that you were teaching somewhere else. I'm going to be completely honest, and I was surprised to find the same reaction from Beth. We were actually pretty bummed out that THEY have the opportunity to be taught by you, whereas it felt like we were robbed from that. It was this weird jealousy of your new students for what they now have tainted with frustration and anger at SNC for ever letting you go.

But never once did we think, gosh, now that Shane’s there he just doesn’t care about our work. That NEVER enters my mind and I highly doubt anyone on this blog thinks that either, so it’s OKAY that you allot your time and energy to your new students. They deserve that much, and that’s your job, and I hope you’re getting paid well for it, too. But I know that you must care a lot about them to, or you wouldn’t have posted what you did.

We know that if we do need to talk to you about our projects or if we need feedback, we can ask you, and if you need to keep us on the backburner until your schedule frees up – that’s okay, too. Because that’s how I feel about Mary and Jacki as well. I know that eventually I will hear from them or they from me, because I don’t doubt for a second that they care, even if they are busy with other stuff, and life in general, which, let’s admit, can be a bitch sometimes and make us feel miserable. But none of us are giving up, I can assure you of that.

Of all the people I know, you’re the last to want to hurt anyone, by what you either say or do. But have you really been able to express your emotions? To express that you do feel angry, or hurt, or plain pissed off by what happened to you at St. Norbert? Seriously, Shane. You have that right. You absolutely do. I’m glad you said something about it in your last post, because I was beginning to think that you had some superpower that could heal these wounds. I’m no shrink, but it sounds as though you could really use someone to talk to. Someone who doesn’t know what happened there and who doesn’t carry in preconceptions or just that feeling you get when you talk to someone who “knows.” That feeling sucks. It still occasionally comes up in conversations with my newspaper staff and brings it all back, crushing down on my chest that it’s literally hard to breathe. If it’s still that real and painful to me and it wasn’t even happening to me, I can’t imagine what it must be like for you and your family.

If you’ve gone to counseling, therapy, or whatever – good for you. If you did once or twice, maybe try going again. It takes a lot of courage to seek that help out, especially if you feel you can usually handle things on your own and make them disappear, like I used to think about myself. But when I simply couldn’t handle what was going on in my life anymore, I decided I needed to start seeing someone who had never met me or anyone else in my life before, and I can’t even begin to describe how much of a weight it has taken off of me to just be able to talk openly about what I feel.

I was holding in my anxieties and fears about what I’m going through in my relationship, and it spilled over, projected, whatever word you want to use, on my staff. I was irritable, I ignored emails, and I’m pretty sure people thought I had my period 24/7. And who would want to be working for someone like that? The people who look up to me and need me to be cool-headed and give them direction. But you know what? Despite those few oddballs whom I’m sure we’ve encountered before, people DO have the capability for understanding, and when I apologized, they knew it was sincere, because it was. As I know yours is, too. And even though we didn’t need one, because you have every right to say what you did, you apologized because I think it’s also what you needed. [And if you haven't caught on by now, apology accepted. Further, you never lost my trust.]

Mostly, I think you see your former students (who remain on this blog, especially) as indicators of your success at St. Norbert. That our successes are yours, as are our failures, mistakes, etc. But when will you see that your presence, your ability as a teacher, a mentor, a friend, has ONLY been positive? You have helped each one of us SO much that words can never truly describe. And if you have doubts about that, your mind is only trying to make something up from thin air.

At the same time, I realize that we are probably CONSTANT reminders of what happened to you there. Maybe directly, maybe indirectly, but a reminder none-the-less. So when we aren’t “active” on the blog, you take the direct hit, even if you do so subconsciously, and clearly even when we don’t realize it. Show me that what I went through wasn’t for nothing – isn’t that what you’re feeling? Because if it is, which again you have every right to have those feelings and emotions, I can guarantee you that what you inexplicably had to go through was NOT for nothing. Don’t sell yourself short. You’ve made a difference in SO MANY LIVES! Teacher of the year, Shane. Not even the bigotry of the administration could shut that down. And that’s only one indicator. Do I need to continue?

And not to get all cliché, but it’s practically Thanksgiving, and one of the things I am most thankful for is that this community of people has been like a second family to me – one that understands the importance of art – in writing and photography. You’re the people who push me to great things and challenge me, and you have no idea how hard that is to come by. Thank you everyone for being a part of my life – I don’t know where I’d be right now had I not met all of you. Happy early Turkey Day.

Gobble gobble,

Sam

By the way, Shane, what I’ve recently discovered through my independent creative writing class with LMac is that by writing down exactly what you feel, what happened, what was said or not said, might be the start of a catharsis that you need. Just a thought.

November 11, 2010

Photos from the Galapagos which I had once dismissed, yet still clung to...

1




November 9, 2010

Where have all the farmers gone?

4


Here's an interesting statistic I learned from my environmental science class: A little over a century ago farmers made up approximately 50% of the workforce. Today, that percentage is less than one. The professor asked us to raise our hand if we came from a farming family. In a class of 30, the only hand that was up belonged to yours truly. I was shocked to say the least. I knew that farming was on the decline, but I wasn't aware it was that steep -- even in an area like Green Bay that I see tons of farms when I'm driving around back country roads.


Why am I so attracted to seeing barns and silos and tractors and clothes hanging out on the line to dry? Why, on such beautiful days like today and yesterday, do I feel compelled to get in my car, and drive to the countryside? Yesterday I didn't even connect to google maps to trace a route before I left -- and I unknowingly blew off a meeting that was scheduled in the afternoon - something that I have NEVER done before. I was so drawn to the outdoors, and I had to immerse myself in it, that I completely forgot about all else and just followed my instincts.


Normally I would drive north or south of campus, but yesterday I went straight west to what I then found out was Seymour and followed the setting sun (which unfortunately was occurring much faster than usual thanks to dear friend daylight savings). Once I made it out of Ashwaubenon, it was farm after farm after farm. It probably wasn't the safest thing to do, but after trying to come up with some writing ideas for my independent study in creative writing, I decided to let my camera be my eyes while I drove and just pointed and clicked at random times. I waited to see what I came up with until I got back to my apartment, and even though the photos are pure crapola....some do capture the mood I was feeling as I drove - rushing by the farms and just trying to take it all in -- a blur.


For the first time in a long, long time I felt my stress pack up its bags and move on out. It was just me, alone in my car, and following my instincts not knowing where I was headed. In a way, it was like having my brain massaged and freed from distraction. So much so that when I got the phone call that I was late for a meeting, all I could say was - I am so sorry, I completely forgot, but at the moment I am driving and honestly don't know where I am, and I'm just going to keep driving until I make my way back, and I'm not sure when that will be - we're going to have to reschedule.
I made it back a half hour before the sun went down, and I really surprised myself how natural it felt to make the turns and feel as though I was in my hometown - it felt so familiar to drive past a field that a farmer was burning and drive through the wafting smoke, a scent that brings me back to my childhood. Or when I saw a willow tree in a front yard of a farm house - a similar setting on my road back home, or a tractor sitting unused outside of a barn. When I came back to campus, I felt refreshed, but also grateful that I have this attachment to my rural roots. It can be hard when the weather is crummy, but it makes those sunny warm days with a cool breeze so much better.

The problem with pursuing any sort of photographic journey in this area is that a month from now I will not live here anymore. I will be back in the farm house I grew up in, in the small community that, though I may not know every one of them, they certainly know my family, and by association - me. Most people who can't remember my name from that place know me as "John's daughter" -which is not something I loathe, because I love my dad and an proud of him, but at the same time, I want them to know me - and I them. My grandma and dad will be talking sometimes about someone in the community -- many of which we are distantly related to (first cousins once removed and all that business) -- and they will assume I know the person and their family history and what they do for a living, what illnesses they have, and so on and so forth. And when I always say, no I don't know that person, all I get back is - oh, of course you know Roger Kupfer, of course you know Dale Maas, or Gib Tietz, etc. But really I don't, and I wish I did, or at least have some connection to these people my family knows for one reason or another, but mainly because we live in a small, tight-knit community. And I'm not talking about the kind of communio that SNC claims to be - no, there's no facade over the town of Lebanon -- this is a community that is connected. And whether or not I claim it, I am a part of this place.


My roommate Beth (Groshek) and I were talking about her senior show that she is doing in the weeks ahead, and I felt as though the two of us were reliving childhood memories. When we had intro with Shane together last fall, Beth's final project consisted of photos of farmers from her hometown. Two photos in particular are especially meaningful to me - one of her father as his hands cover his head in the barn, saying the rosary (not a staged photo by the way) and the other of a farmer holding his cap in one hand and squinting toward the sun. These photos are so honest to me. So true to what my perceptions are of the older farming generation. Sad but proud - burdened but honorable men.
Now that Beth and I have lived together and gotten to know one another better this semester, we've come to realize how similar are families are - especially our dads. And in some ways I think that having come from farming families that are no longer in working order, we have a certain understanding that only those children can know. A feeling of having to watch as your parents struggle to make ends meet, ultimately having to turn away from their passion of farming (which for my father seemed to be a lifeline) and find a new occupation, or like Beth's parents - forced into early retirement due to her father's recent heart attack. We've seen our fathers age quickly in the past few years. We blame our own psychotic need to be perfectionists and finish any assigned task no matter how difficult or strenuous, because that's just what you do -that's the only example we've ever known - and if you're going to do something, you'd better do it right the first time.

As we talked tonight, we were both being inspired by one another. Beth had her old batch of test photos in her photo box and we pulled them out and looked at them - saw how she had progressed in even just one semester, and she told me how terrifying and nerve racking it was to meet with these people in her community and take photos of them. Beth and I have lately been talking about taking a road trip out west after we graduate in December and making it a photo journey (we both are looking into job prospects in California, too). But we need to find a job first around our hometowns to even get money to make that photo trip happen, but in the meantime we thought about extending our projects. Her project of shooting her hometown (near Wittenberg) and more than just the farmers- but their wives and families, the landscapes and the town. And my project of shooting my family - but more than just my grandma and dad. I want to know more about my family and its history, not just from those in my family, but also those in my community, and by extension, my community of Lebanon itself. So as we talked, we realized that we were both sort of heading in the same direction. We talked about farming in general, what it was like to grow up that way, and how we knew just how difficult it also is for a farmer's spouse to be their through thick and thin, rain or snow. We want to support each other in any way for both of our projects, bouncing ideas back and forth, and maybe one day collaborating on a book project or an exhibition. But we both have to deny our instinct to see the end result and follow a certain path to get their as we have been trained all these years and to just let go.
-----
Check out these photos by Dean Riggott who wrote a book called "Life on the Farm: A Pictorial Journey of Minnesota's Farmland and Its People" which took over 4 years to compile. If you know of any other photographers who shot their communities and its people and landscape (especially rural life) please let me know and I'll also pass on the info to Beth too. We are both uber inspired right now, and I can't tell you how great it feels to have someone to talk to that has grown up very similar to how you have, and who shares some of the same passions as you. We may not agree on everything, but if you have someone who you trust to share your photos with (which I hope we can continue to do on this blog despite what may be going on in our lives) take full advantage of them! Help each other - motivate each other - support one another. One week we're griping about the uncleanliness of our apartment, and now this week we are psyched to keep each other motivated with our projects. Friendships (like all relationships) have their ups and downs -- and sometimes it is just where each person is at in their life. That doesn't mean you should stop associating with them just because you have some beef with them. We are artists -- we should be able to put aside personal junk that gets in the way from time to time and help each other out so we can keep improving.

October 27, 2010

Why I Am Not a Painter...

0

I am not a painter, I am a poet.
Why? I think I would rather be
a painter, but I am not. Well,

for instance, Mike Goldberg
is starting a painting. I drop in.
"Sit down and have a drink" he
says. I drink; we drink. I look
up. You have SARDINES in it."
"Yes, it needed something there."
"Oh." I go and the days go by
and I drop in again. The painting
is going on, and I go, and the days
go by. I drop in. The painting is
finished. "Where's SARDINES?"
All that's left is just
letters, "It was too much," Mike says.

But me? One day I am thinking of
a color: orange. I write a line
about orange. Pretty soon it is a
whole page of words, not lines.
Then another page. There should be
so much more, not of orange, of
words, of how terrible orange is
and life. Days go by. It is even in
prose, I am a real poet. My poem
is finished and I haven't mentioned
orange yet. It's twelve poems, I call
it ORANGES. And one day in a gallery
I see Mike's painting, called SARDINES.

-Frank O'Hara (1926-1966)

October 13, 2010

Assignment #3 and #2 photos

0

Assignment 2 photos:




To be honest, I didn't want to post any of the pics I took over the weekend, because I simply wasn't feeling them. But I did anyway because I know this is a process and one that can be frustrating at times. I had much more time and a variety of places to go for my first assignment, and I was limited over the weekend, but regardless here are some images out of just 50 or so that I shot on Saturday.

I wasn't sure where to start, so I got in my car like always and started to drive. Since it was long weekend vacation I was at home, although I worked most of the time, but that got me thinking. What if I followed the lawn mowing route and stopped and shot photos of the things that caught my eye? That's just what I did. None of the photos have any particular feelings or meaning, just purely photographs that I captured because I was drawn to them for some reason - unknown even to me. I'm not thrilled about any of them and it was hard for me to even post them, but feedback would be nice in any case ;)

Assignment 3: Oct. 10-Oct. 16

cap to every that Me, seemed different down the never and and this - before. am on the and upper

(I'll be in Chicago this weekend: if any movie shootings are going on I can't promise that some of my photos won't be of attractive looking men....oh jake gyllenhaal.... :P)

Peace!

October 3, 2010

Assignment #2 and #1 photos

2












Assignment 2: 10/2-9

his spoke him advice. living been lawn tell allowance keeps family been you was facts has taking the today. pigs

Assignment 1 recap
When I picked out the 20 words and typed them up, I printed them out on a square 2-inch piece of paper that I then taped them to the back of my camera. I never knew buying the Nikon D5000 with the 360-degree screen would come in so handy. Not only can I tape the words on the black plastic part so that they are always facing me when I'm taking pictures, but my digital is also acting more like my film camera in that I am not reviewing my pictures after each shot - it's a surprise :) My goal is to shoot about 200 photos/assignment, more if possible, but to do so patiently and diligently with a wide variety.

I wasn't quite sure where to start, but since it was such a beautiful sunny day on Wednesday I had to get in my car and drive. Not knowing where to go, I searched MapQuest for any streets or towns named "Katie" in the area, and the map said there was a Katie Lane near Kaukana in a small town called Holland. I printed out the directions and just drove, stopping occasionally to take photos of the landscape and buildings. When I got into Holland I searched and searched for this Katie Lane, but I never found it.

Back through country roads I was driving when I spotted a small cemetery on a hill. I pulled over and started walking around, looking at the stones. This must have been primarily a family cemetery as only a handful of last names existed, the most populous being - Ellis and Walker. I wondered who had walked through here, who now rested here, and what the circumstances were. My favorite tombstone was carved like a tree trunk with a book resting on top, with carved ivy and an anchor at the base of the trunk. But what was most interesting was a tombstone that was higher with another book on top, with a real vine plant crawling up its base and almost covering the inscriptions. This tombstone almost looked out over the graveyard and the city in the backyard. I could even see the blue water tower from this angle. As I peered back to my camera to read the words, I wondered what made me stop the car and walk up here. Maybe I had thought about the shoes that had walked there, but when I left I realized that it was really the breathing that was there and still is because of the plants and trees. I admit, it was weird walking there by myself in the middle of nowhere, but it was also peaceful and not spooky like I thought it would be.

I decided to ditch the maps and try to find my way back to campus through the back roads, and wouldn't you know it, about an hour later I wound up driving on X past a dead end called Video Lane. I didn't even know this road existed. So I turned around and drove down it, and it led to a huge asphalt plant. As I came closer to the fence, I looked to my right and there was a radio tower that looked like the building had a UFO on top - it was very strange. At the same time a dump truck sped down the straight gravel path - certainly not abiding by the 10 mph speed limit sign. He looked at me and gave me a strange look, but as I hadn't gone past the fence, he couldn't tell me I was trespassing. If you've ever seen the movie Erin Brokovich, it was this strange place out in nowhere and I felt like Julia Roberts sneaking water samples that were probably contaminated due to toxins. I don't know why, but it just did not seem like a Wisconsin place, it seemed foreign, and I felt slightly uneasy being there.

On Friday my mom came up to visit. We planned on driving up to Door County, but we had a late start, so we decided to drive to Sherwood to High Cliff State Park and did some hiking. We had a great time - it was beautiful weather, the trees were just starting to change, we climbed the look-out tower, and joked that the carved steps down the cliff looked like something out of the movie Lord of the Rings. She was being sarcastic and pretended to be Gandalf in the Mines of Moria saying, "Don't come here!" I started laughing, "Mom, you mean, 'You shall not pass?'" We were both walking along narrow, steep paths, and her agility surprised me. Not that she isn't fit, but she's had so many back problems and health issues that she must have been energized by being out in nature, as was I. Not wanting to waste daylight, we decided to drive on, hoping to make it to another state park taking Highway 10 to Two Rivers on the shore of Lake Michigan, but it started to get cloudy.

Earlier we had driven past an old barn and abandoned house where a sign said "POSTED, No Hunting, Fishing, Trespassing." Where exactly you could fish on this plot of weedy land is beyond me, but the point was clear - don't enter here. The driveway was even padlocked, though it would have been easy to just drive around it. We pulled over and I walked along the side of the road and changed to a zoom lens. My mom called out, "Aren't you going to go inside?" I couldn't believe she said that, my mom whom I thought always played by the rules. "Are you crazy?" I shouted back. I've been in enough trouble, I thought, but I was still curious. There didn't seem to be any cars driving along the road, but there was a sharp curve so you couldn't really be sure. I started to step closer and closer to the house, but it was still a ways off when I suddenly heard a vehicle zooming towards us. I freaked out and ran back to the car where my mom was swinging her legs back and forth from the end of the SUV and eating the caramel apple we had just bought at an orchard a few miles back. She was so calm, almost child-like in that moment, and we both laughed as got back in and drove on.

Later we went to Brillion. That is the town my mom grew up in until she was four, and she had mentioned she had never been back to see her house. She wasn't sure she even remembered where it was located. But she called her older brother and he gave some vague directions. As we entered Brillion, I saw a restaurant that looked like it came out of the 50s. When my mom saw Rudy's too, she knew she was close. She remarked that she didn't know where to go next, but as if she was remembering her surroundings with ease, at the next street (Columbus Avenue) she turned right and drove very slowly not keeping to her lane. "I have a picture of me on the sidewalk that wrapped around our house to the backyard, there was a fence there." She said she didn't know if this was right, but suddenly she stopped the car in the middle of the road and just stared out her window to the left. "Is that it?" I asked. She said nothing, just stared. As if to herself, "They didn't change the color. I was afraid they'd paint it a different color." Then as we drove on, she spotted it - the sidewalk. This was it. She pulled the car around and parked on that side of the street. I asked her if she wanted a picture with the house, and she said yes, all the while very silent. First she stood in the driveway. "This must be over 50 years old - look at how cracked it still is, and the same garage, too." And it was, cracks and weeds growing up all over, a tiny blue and white garage that looked like it could barely hold one car. I took a few shots of her as she walked to the door, "Should I ring the doorbell? Oh, look, it's the same one as we had." She knocked and rang, but no one came to the door. The only real change, she said, was the big plastic bear that greeted you as you walked in, and there was no fence in the back yard. She was adamant that I didn't get the bear in the photo of her as she stood on the porch steps. As we got in the car and continued driving, we had other conversations, but she would interrupt saying things like, "I didn't really want to come back here, but I'm glad I did," and "Isn't it strange that I found it on the first try?" I know she wasn't looking for a response, she was in her own world, but I was glad to have been there with her as she experienced this "on familiar wonder, the exactly familiarity she came."

September 29, 2010

Assignment 1: 9/29-10/2

1

on unfamiliar wonder, the exactly familiarity she came birthday sarcastic? between together just crates. me shoes Katie way videos have- breathing

September 28, 2010

Blunt Bono, very blunt, but thank you - I needed to hear that!

0

[Photography is often what keeps me up at night - yes I'm in my pj's -- I was about to go to bed tonight when all of its possibilities started emerging in my mind :) ]

I had dinner with a dear friend on Friday -- a dinner that lasted more than 3 hours -- simply because he asked the question, "What are you afraid of?" after I revealed to him my anxieties with my approaching graduation. What am I afraid of? Why, when I've been asked how my photography project is going, do I cower and respond that it simply isn't going at all? It's not like me to not take something head on, even when I'm uncomfortable with it. I couldn't accurately answer the question for my friend at that time, but after thinking about it this weekend I think I realized what may be behind it: I'm living my life on a 3-month deadline.

Three months until graduation (actually now less than that), and I'm starting to freak out about my accomplishments thus far and where I am headed. I don't have a job lined up, as I am only now starting to apply to jobs that - you've guessed it - aren't really related to my major or my minor. I feel pressure to have this job so I can help support my boyfriend as he works full time and also goes to school, who has also in the past week asked me to move in with him come December. I feel like my life is being planned for me, and it scares me that I'm not in control of it. But why can't I be? I CAN say no to a job that I don't feel passionately about, I CAN say I'm not ready to move in with my boyfriend (which I finally had the courage to do) because I need to figure my life out first, and that I CAN reclaim my passion for photography. I CAN do all of these things, but it can be scary to take them on when you don't have a back-up plan or one that is less than you desire. For instance, if I don't have a job come December, I will still be living at home, under the same rules and environment as I have up until now. I put a tremendous amount of pressure on myself to do things the "right" way, and so to go into a photography project (or a life project, if you will) that I don't feel absolutely grounded in and which I can't see the end result in (which I SHOULDN'T be doing anyway) is making me vulnerable and exposed to failure. But again, WHY is failure always considered a BAD thing? Haven't we tried redefining failure in class? Now it's time to put it into practice in our lives. You never know if you don't try.

And so after U2's "Stuck in A Moment You Can't Get Out Of" popped up when shuffling my iTunes, I felt that THIS was my moment to begin. To actually commit. To pick up my camera and DO THIS! Mary - your post was SO inspiring, and Jacki and Monica- the fact that you've been posting your work lately has really made me want to get back into this groove that we have been temporarily pulled away from.

So in the words of my dear Bono:

I'm not afraid
Of anything in this world
There's nothing you can throw at me
That I haven't already heard

I'm just tryin' to find
A decent melody
A song that I can sing
In my own company

I never thought you were a fool
But darling, look at you
You gotta stand up straight, carry your own weight
'Cause tears are going nowhere, baby

You've got to get yourself together
You've got stuck in a moment
And now you can't get out of it

Don't say that later will be better
Now you're stuck in a moment
And you can't get out of it

I will not forsake
The colors that you bring
The nights you filled with fireworks
They, they left you with nothing

I am still enchanted
By the light you brought to me
I listen through your ears
Through your eyes I can see

You are such a fool
To worry like you do
I know it's tough and you can never get enough
Of what you don't really need now, my, oh my

You've got to get yourself together
You've got stuck in a moment
And you can't get out of it

Oh love, look at you now
You've got yourself stuck in a moment
And you can't get out of it

I was unconscious, half asleep
The water is warm 'til you discover how deep
I wasn't jumping, for me it was a fall
It's a long way down to nothing at all

You've got to get yourself together
You've got stuck in a moment
And you can't get out of it

Don't say that later will be better
Now you're stuck in a moment
And you can't get out of it

And if the night runs over
And if the day won't last
And if your way should falter
Along on this stony pass

And if, and if the night runs over
And if the day won't last
And if your way should falter
Along this stony pass

It's just a moment
This time will pass


The Photo Assignments Begin:

What I realized is that unless I discipline myself and always provide myself enough options and opportunities, I will never follow through with this project. You all know where it emerged from, but I don't know where it is going. I've hit that peak where everything I think I know is already laid out on the table (i.e.blog) for you all to see. What comes next none of us can anticipate. I love surprises, so this should be a fun time :)

So...what to do when you've already coughed up everything you're aware of? When you've hit that imaginary wall that I usually call writer's block, but in this case photo block? Recycle and reuse assignments that helped spark emotion and creativity in the past. And for this I thank you Shane for opening up the barrier between words and art: the cut-up paper project.

Since I didn't know what I was in for last time I blistered up my fingers from ravenous scissor use, I decided to blow up my font to a manageable 14 pt. size and double space the words (all 2,463 of them) of my 2 blog posts that reread (thanks for the tip, Mary) that I found to have provoked the most emotion and discovery for me personally. So, from the most recent "Every parting is a form of death, as every reunion is a type of heaven." ~Tryon Edwards and "Dad & I: Do the albums lie?" blog posts, I have cut up each word and put them in my jumbo-marshmallows-in-cocoa-friendly SNC mug.

Tomorrow morning I will wake up (though the temptation is really really tugging at me to pick them out now) and pull out a few random pinches of paper and then type them up in the order I picked them, and then they will be added to a plastic zip baggy so they don't pollute the rest of the mug, which, at the end of this project may be filled with a celebratory margarita :)

With these randomly generated words [(which are going to kick ass because I wrote them in the first place -- hah, sorry, I don't think snarky is my look, but I had to try it) correction: which will be both frustrating to work with and also highly revealing to me (there that's better)] I will re-familiarize myself with this technological hunk of plastic and glass (that some would call a camera, or in my case, a lens through which to see the world) and shoot. Yes, you heard me. SHOOT. I will SHOOT everything and anything related, even remotely, to these wonderful words that have taken me thus far but may still pack a punch to ignite the fire under my project (and my stubborn butt). Maybe the photos will be literal, others figurative, others intuitive (remember the Myer's Briggs?- I was a huge N) but in any case, I am going to do this thing.

And the best part is that I'm not going to say I have to be "done" with it by December 14. Why should art stop when school does? All of you have graduated and have proved to me that it doesn't stop there, and what a relief that is! I'll take out a chunk of words each week, post those words on the blog for you to see, to ponder about what I might be shooting during that week (if you so choose to follow) and then I will post some images related to those words, and repeat that process with a brand new set the following week.

I'm uber excited about where this could take me, because for the first time I'm not going into it seeing the end result. There is no possible way to know. I'm not even going to brainstorm "what if's" because that will just get me stuck into photo block. Maybe I'll fail, but who the hell cares? That's the perfect leaping board for new discoveries.

Rock on PHOTOPHANTASTICCS!