Sunday, August 30, 2009
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Saturday, August 1, 2009
New York and the terrible excuse for a writer.
everyone
is disappearing
to
New York...
the city
that holds
it
all.
empty streets
side crossed
with shadowed
dreams.
time is coming up
short
in chicago.
Still
I could not
leave to live in
New York.
It's a place
only meant
to
visit for me.
It will
may
never be home.
Those tall
dark buildings
gleaming.
Like the forest
canopy
relentlessly keeping
the sun from the life below
Saturday, July 25, 2009
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Writing on 82.
lately i've come to the
conclusion that all I want in my
Life is to make a difference. I don't care
if my art work gets into galleries or are these
iconic images... because who the fuck really cares?
this is all so much
more than me. So let the pretentious
right and left wing rich folks have their art.
Let them wear it like a robe around their beings
to feel self important and worldly. Let them have their
Things. I will accept that I will be poor. But let me have
my life... a real life were I feel alive. Take chances and travel;
be brave, put others before myself and my ego.
Letting things be, while challenging others.
Art is not everything,
and some of us need more.
More than this photo, more than this
camera, more than the paint or the useless
round about talks about the importance of it all...
when it all really doesn't matter.
I've always thought that
hardcore and metal were powerful
forms of music... but they were always so
much less than what they could be. I would
stand in the back of those dark venues as the red, yellow
and blue lights flashed on stage. As the kids would crowd around,
kicking, jumping, yelling, dancing. As the band thrashed, the screamer
screamed and the drummer beat out the last remaining strength from his body
into those drums. I'd stand back there and feel it all... the bass going through me,
and I would think, "this is all such a waste. It was so much less.. If only they talked about
something that mattered." Maybe not politics, the government, or our continual loss of rights..
but just something. Talk about suicide if that was what they were passionate about..
but for God's sake (yeah, I said it) say something that Matters. Don't just write music and lyrics
for the trend.
For God's sake, don't just
create art for the trend. Talk about something
bigger than yourself, or your remedial idea(ls).
But whatever, this is just me
spewing out my frustrations at myself.
I am much more than a photographer, much more
than an art student, or a kid from texas... america.
.
Saturday, July 18, 2009
I've been thinking of making these little videos
why? well, not to be artsy. Maybe to escape photography
the still image. To find a combination in both. of moving and still.
A still image with moving edges because the camera man can't keep a completely
steady hand. Because like all humans they have to breath. The still image within the view
finder while being held. The image before it's been processed within the machine.
scenes from my life. will it have importance,
will it matter. No. But what does any of the work we
produce mean in the greater scale of things in the end anyway.
Is it "work" if you've enjoyed it. Is it play? "hey check out the "play" i've done"
Friday, July 17, 2009
I always get nervous going home
I never know who is still my friends
and who arent... weather because of passage of time
or weather it's because apparently I've become too liberal.
I always know that trib will be..
but I always get a bit nervous when
walking into the mosaic... I never know
what influence John has had on colin
since John now hates me.
I love colin, and don't wanna loose him.
all the same, I'll find out come next thursday or sunday.
Funny that I know jimmy'll always be cool with me.
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Black Bear
coming to terms that I am
indeed not a photographer.
I can not acutely portray any meaning
or anything that I have to say.
Nor do I understand what it means to be
a photographer. I do not create using light.
I simply take from things and instances in front of
me. I do not create with light.
I do not have the goal
to make/take an image that will
profoundly affect the art world as I know it.
I never really intended to, and lost sight of that.
I can not create for others. I can not do things for others.
I rarely try to things only
for myself. I try to put others before myself
when at all possible. I think it's time to be selfish
again. To say fuck everyone else.
At the same time,
I feel like if I didn't have to
pick up a camera to fulfill assignments
I wouldn't. I need to take a break.
I've gone back to my first love: singing.
And another: playing guitar.
I've gone back to what has always been natural for me.
I've written two songs thus far
and recorded them.
nothing terrific... i wouldn't expect them to be.
But i'm still pretty excited at the start i've made.
http://www.myspace.com/blackbearchicago
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Monday, June 15, 2009
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Dumpster Fairies
[yet another paper I wrote for WR2...let's just say it was supposed to be based on personal experience but this is not a work of non-fiction. o well.]
I remember when she finally told me, I couldn’t believe it. “Are you serious? You just feed me food you got out of the dumpster?!” Images of old, dirty homeless men with impossibly grimy hands sifting through trash immediately came to mind. I had seen them on the streets of Chicago, but I never thought that someone my age, living seemingly well would do or even think about of something like that. Then again, Cat and Sean were the only anarchist I’d ever met. In front of me Days of War, Nights of Love, a short, condensed book on anarchy, sat on the table in front of me. “Read it, there’s a chapter on dumpstering,” Sean suggested. Though I sadly never got around to, I began my education on dumpster diving on that night.
The more I hung around with them, the more dumpstered items began to appear in my life: complete meals (all of which were seven times better than what I’d been receiving), clothing, art supplies, furniture, and other items of the sort. It wasn’t just items that appeared, there were people as well; Michael, Melissa, and Marne over the coarse of time had come into the picture.
From the five of them, I learned how bakeries and food stores would generally throw out bags and bags of perfectly good day old bread; and how if you sometimes look behind department stores, you can find clothing that’s been thrown out. I also learned that more and more dumpsters around Chicago were beginning to be locked up because of irresponsible kids that throw the trash everywhere when they dumpster dive; thus ruining it for everyone else.
From books and articles, I learned how two thousand years ago the world’s population survived by hunting and gathering; and that with the rise of civilization, hunting and gathering became obsolete. I learned that all modern-day scavengers are hunter-gatherers. They defined it as sublimating choice to the bigger thrill of chance. They believed that by doing so, dumpster diving translated into saving money, potentially working less, and dodging whatever market sector some genius thinks you belong to. Dumpster diving lends it’s self to the side of uncertainty and randomness. You’ll never know what you’ll get; and that was the point. That was the challenge, the payoff and the thrill: the never knowing, the waiting, and then the finding out. I learned that these are the very feelings that made Christmas and birthdays exciting as a kid. By dumpstering you can allow yourself to experience and indulge in these feelings.
May had rolled around and my budget was getting pretty tight. I had just bought an apartment with three other friends and the start up payments alone were daunting. Though I’d learned about dumpster diving more than a year before and had become comfortable eating and using things my friends had gained from it, I had yet to actually go out and dumpster dive myself. I had been putting it off. In reality I was a little scared. I tend to get skittish when breaking laws; even if it’s something dumb like trespassing or civil disobedience. This was both.
Walking under the orange hued streetlights, I made my way to the Ukrainian Village to meet up at Cat’s apartment. The over-sized bag on my back made a slight clinking noise as I made my way there. It was empty and light; but would soon be full. Outside her place, a black road bike, with short white handles was U-locked to the fence. Michael would be coming with us on our run.
They were waiting for me in the driveway. Blessedly, Cat had convinced her roommate, Hannah, to allow us to use her car. It was one of those spring nights when the tempter had dropped to 40 degrees. Though a month and a half ago I would have rejoiced for days that were that warm, I now shivered in my thin jacket. Quickly we piled into the car. Cat and Michael up front, and I was in the back. Cat turned the key in the ignition and we were off.
Sean had told me weeks before about this Odwalla plant/warehouse up north. He said they were throwing dumpsters full of the drinks out everyday and that the plant had so much overstock, that they were throwing them out a week before their sell by date even came up. He said that he and his roommates had been taking trips up there and that now Lower Case was stacked to the brim with Odwalla drinks.
I had hoped that we would head up there, but alas we didn’t. Mainly we stuck to bakeries in Wicker Park and Pilson. Though we thought about hitting up the Dunkin Doughnuts in the South Loop, we decided against it; there were too many cops in that area.
So far the run was pretty standard, according to Cat and Michael. Already we had two bags full of beagles, baguettes, loaves of bread, and muffins. We decided the next place to hit was Aldi. Along the way we drove through residential allies, as those were good places to find furniture, clothing and other things that may or may not be necessities.
We made our way through them quickly and diligently avoiding dumpsters that smelled especially toxic. We wore dark clothing, close toed shoes, and gloves to keep from being both seen and from getting “dumpster juice” on us. To help the digging go easier, Michael brought a flashlight with LED lights in it. It took all of maybe 30 minutes but when we left we had three cardboard boxes full of rice, pasta, and canned food as well as a large pink rug, two fans, a large lamp, two pairs of mannequin legs, a shower curtain, one roll of 120 Kodak Portra 400 NC film, two binders, various photo supplies, clothing, a hat, a flower pot, 3 sauce pans, a measuring up, various cleaning supplies, tape, and a wicker chair with a hole in the seat which Michael said he would fix. We decided that the night was going especially well and that we should make a pit stop at my place to drop off the items. It didn’t take long, as we were anxious to get to Aldi and see if there was any fruits and produce we could get.
As we pulled up to the store, we drove around back, turned down our music and headlights. Cat turned off the car and we piled out. The back of Aldi was lit with bright white spotlights. Since I had been put on scouting duty, I quickly looked around to see if there were any security cameras. There were none; at least none that I could see. Michael and Cat gingerly opened the top of the dumpster and climbed in. For several minutes all I could hear was the sound of them. “Shit!” Cat yelled. “Are you ok?” I asked. “Yeah, she’s just clumsy.” Michael called back. “Shut up Michael,” she muttered to him.
Carefully they began the process of shifting through the bags of trash. The sweet smell of rotting fruits and coffee grounds came wafting to my nose. “Uh… found box of strawberries, I don’t think we could use them though. They look pretty sketch,” Michael called out. “Oh sweet! Bananas! They’re lookin’ pretty brown, but I think we can use them to make some banana bread.” He popped his head over the side of the dumpster and dropped the box into my hands. Thus the process continued again. They shifted through the trash, called out what they found, and handed the items to me to set in the car.
I was still filling a little bit skittish but felt as if I was becoming more and more comfortable as the night wore on. I listened to the sounds of traffic moving on the streets around us and for any signs that we might be ousted. It began soft, but became louder. It was the sound of footsteps and a swishing I couldn’t name. I turned my head in the direction in which I heard the footsteps. A dark figure appeared out of the shadows and was coming nearer by the second; though it moved rather slowly.
I felt the pressure build inside my chest as I began to panic. “Uh guys…. Guys!” I urgently whispered. Clearly not having heard me, they continued shifting through the dumpster. I began slapping the dumpster with my open hand. “GUYS!” “What?!” Michael yelled. “Dude, there’s someone coming!” I told him. “Shit!”
Out of the dumpster jumped Michael and Cat. We began scrambling to the car. “It’s ok!” came a small grainy voice. We slowed down and looked back at the figure. It stepped into the light to reveal a tiny old woman. She was holding up her hand in mid wave. She had a kindly face and didn’t seem to want to harm us in the least, “I’m here to get some food too. I’ve been doing this for years, you know.” “Oh,” was the only response I could think of. This woman caught me a little off guard; she wasn’t exactly who or what I had expecting to see. I glanced over at my two friends. Michael was glanced at me, shaking his head while Cat just laughed. “Sometimes Brit, sometimes,” Michael said quietly to me.
Bibliography:
The Scavengers Manifesto: Why Dumpster Diving Can Save You from Going Off the Deep End | Environment | AlterNet
By Anneli Rufus, AlterNet. Posted: March 21, 2009
http://www.alternet.org/environment/132736/the_scavenger's_manifesto:_why_dumpster_diving_can_save_you_from_going_off_the_deep_end/
Dumpster Diving, Ethnography
By Marleymiles Posted: February 21, 2009
http://thesmallaxe.wordpress.com/2009/02/21/dumpster-diving-an-ethnography/
I remember when she finally told me, I couldn’t believe it. “Are you serious? You just feed me food you got out of the dumpster?!” Images of old, dirty homeless men with impossibly grimy hands sifting through trash immediately came to mind. I had seen them on the streets of Chicago, but I never thought that someone my age, living seemingly well would do or even think about of something like that. Then again, Cat and Sean were the only anarchist I’d ever met. In front of me Days of War, Nights of Love, a short, condensed book on anarchy, sat on the table in front of me. “Read it, there’s a chapter on dumpstering,” Sean suggested. Though I sadly never got around to, I began my education on dumpster diving on that night.
The more I hung around with them, the more dumpstered items began to appear in my life: complete meals (all of which were seven times better than what I’d been receiving), clothing, art supplies, furniture, and other items of the sort. It wasn’t just items that appeared, there were people as well; Michael, Melissa, and Marne over the coarse of time had come into the picture.
From the five of them, I learned how bakeries and food stores would generally throw out bags and bags of perfectly good day old bread; and how if you sometimes look behind department stores, you can find clothing that’s been thrown out. I also learned that more and more dumpsters around Chicago were beginning to be locked up because of irresponsible kids that throw the trash everywhere when they dumpster dive; thus ruining it for everyone else.
From books and articles, I learned how two thousand years ago the world’s population survived by hunting and gathering; and that with the rise of civilization, hunting and gathering became obsolete. I learned that all modern-day scavengers are hunter-gatherers. They defined it as sublimating choice to the bigger thrill of chance. They believed that by doing so, dumpster diving translated into saving money, potentially working less, and dodging whatever market sector some genius thinks you belong to. Dumpster diving lends it’s self to the side of uncertainty and randomness. You’ll never know what you’ll get; and that was the point. That was the challenge, the payoff and the thrill: the never knowing, the waiting, and then the finding out. I learned that these are the very feelings that made Christmas and birthdays exciting as a kid. By dumpstering you can allow yourself to experience and indulge in these feelings.
May had rolled around and my budget was getting pretty tight. I had just bought an apartment with three other friends and the start up payments alone were daunting. Though I’d learned about dumpster diving more than a year before and had become comfortable eating and using things my friends had gained from it, I had yet to actually go out and dumpster dive myself. I had been putting it off. In reality I was a little scared. I tend to get skittish when breaking laws; even if it’s something dumb like trespassing or civil disobedience. This was both.
Walking under the orange hued streetlights, I made my way to the Ukrainian Village to meet up at Cat’s apartment. The over-sized bag on my back made a slight clinking noise as I made my way there. It was empty and light; but would soon be full. Outside her place, a black road bike, with short white handles was U-locked to the fence. Michael would be coming with us on our run.
They were waiting for me in the driveway. Blessedly, Cat had convinced her roommate, Hannah, to allow us to use her car. It was one of those spring nights when the tempter had dropped to 40 degrees. Though a month and a half ago I would have rejoiced for days that were that warm, I now shivered in my thin jacket. Quickly we piled into the car. Cat and Michael up front, and I was in the back. Cat turned the key in the ignition and we were off.
Sean had told me weeks before about this Odwalla plant/warehouse up north. He said they were throwing dumpsters full of the drinks out everyday and that the plant had so much overstock, that they were throwing them out a week before their sell by date even came up. He said that he and his roommates had been taking trips up there and that now Lower Case was stacked to the brim with Odwalla drinks.
I had hoped that we would head up there, but alas we didn’t. Mainly we stuck to bakeries in Wicker Park and Pilson. Though we thought about hitting up the Dunkin Doughnuts in the South Loop, we decided against it; there were too many cops in that area.
So far the run was pretty standard, according to Cat and Michael. Already we had two bags full of beagles, baguettes, loaves of bread, and muffins. We decided the next place to hit was Aldi. Along the way we drove through residential allies, as those were good places to find furniture, clothing and other things that may or may not be necessities.
We made our way through them quickly and diligently avoiding dumpsters that smelled especially toxic. We wore dark clothing, close toed shoes, and gloves to keep from being both seen and from getting “dumpster juice” on us. To help the digging go easier, Michael brought a flashlight with LED lights in it. It took all of maybe 30 minutes but when we left we had three cardboard boxes full of rice, pasta, and canned food as well as a large pink rug, two fans, a large lamp, two pairs of mannequin legs, a shower curtain, one roll of 120 Kodak Portra 400 NC film, two binders, various photo supplies, clothing, a hat, a flower pot, 3 sauce pans, a measuring up, various cleaning supplies, tape, and a wicker chair with a hole in the seat which Michael said he would fix. We decided that the night was going especially well and that we should make a pit stop at my place to drop off the items. It didn’t take long, as we were anxious to get to Aldi and see if there was any fruits and produce we could get.
As we pulled up to the store, we drove around back, turned down our music and headlights. Cat turned off the car and we piled out. The back of Aldi was lit with bright white spotlights. Since I had been put on scouting duty, I quickly looked around to see if there were any security cameras. There were none; at least none that I could see. Michael and Cat gingerly opened the top of the dumpster and climbed in. For several minutes all I could hear was the sound of them. “Shit!” Cat yelled. “Are you ok?” I asked. “Yeah, she’s just clumsy.” Michael called back. “Shut up Michael,” she muttered to him.
Carefully they began the process of shifting through the bags of trash. The sweet smell of rotting fruits and coffee grounds came wafting to my nose. “Uh… found box of strawberries, I don’t think we could use them though. They look pretty sketch,” Michael called out. “Oh sweet! Bananas! They’re lookin’ pretty brown, but I think we can use them to make some banana bread.” He popped his head over the side of the dumpster and dropped the box into my hands. Thus the process continued again. They shifted through the trash, called out what they found, and handed the items to me to set in the car.
I was still filling a little bit skittish but felt as if I was becoming more and more comfortable as the night wore on. I listened to the sounds of traffic moving on the streets around us and for any signs that we might be ousted. It began soft, but became louder. It was the sound of footsteps and a swishing I couldn’t name. I turned my head in the direction in which I heard the footsteps. A dark figure appeared out of the shadows and was coming nearer by the second; though it moved rather slowly.
I felt the pressure build inside my chest as I began to panic. “Uh guys…. Guys!” I urgently whispered. Clearly not having heard me, they continued shifting through the dumpster. I began slapping the dumpster with my open hand. “GUYS!” “What?!” Michael yelled. “Dude, there’s someone coming!” I told him. “Shit!”
Out of the dumpster jumped Michael and Cat. We began scrambling to the car. “It’s ok!” came a small grainy voice. We slowed down and looked back at the figure. It stepped into the light to reveal a tiny old woman. She was holding up her hand in mid wave. She had a kindly face and didn’t seem to want to harm us in the least, “I’m here to get some food too. I’ve been doing this for years, you know.” “Oh,” was the only response I could think of. This woman caught me a little off guard; she wasn’t exactly who or what I had expecting to see. I glanced over at my two friends. Michael was glanced at me, shaking his head while Cat just laughed. “Sometimes Brit, sometimes,” Michael said quietly to me.
Bibliography:
The Scavengers Manifesto: Why Dumpster Diving Can Save You from Going Off the Deep End | Environment | AlterNet
By Anneli Rufus, AlterNet. Posted: March 21, 2009
http://www.alternet.org/environment/132736/the_scavenger's_manifesto:_why_dumpster_diving_can_save_you_from_going_off_the_deep_end/
Dumpster Diving, Ethnography
By Marleymiles Posted: February 21, 2009
http://thesmallaxe.wordpress.com/2009/02/21/dumpster-diving-an-ethnography/
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Orange and Green.
Even as I traveled there,
I wondered how I was going to get home and in what state.
The vodka mixer I drank was not sitting well in my stomic and
exhaustion was already beginning to over take my body.
Long walks across the dark streets of chicago.
Streets lined with orange hued lights. I always some how felt
more comfortable walking while holding a leaf in my hand.
I make my way to his place. There's a party there.
One which I'm not at all sure how I'll (re)act.
Awkward asshole; I call myself.
My head spins a bit. I travel on.
I cross the street and think of how my father
said I make him nervous when I cross streets here.
I never worry. The 16th block comes up.
Already I see young people pouring from the building;
CPD has broken up the party. It's the que that my night is over.
I've not the energy to stick around.
Quiet; I begin to walk back.
Trees rustle, orange street lights cast their
soft shadows. From my lips comes the words of
folk songs; I'm apt to sing to myself while walking if no one is around.
It's during these times when I allow that childhood memory of
singing in a band rise again.
Ahead of me two guys and a girl stand in the street with bikes.
"I love my bike!" she yells to the guys clearly drunk.
Embarrassed, my singing ceases and I walk on.
It's all I can do not to stop and rest. I know I'll run the
risk of falling asleep if I do so.
Thus, I happened upon the longest
journey of my life.
though I say it all
rather loosely.
Self Loathing and all that Shit.
I'm no longer sure what to do with myself.
As i made my way across the city and back to
Wicker Park, I came to the conclusion that I am a coward.
I am a coward because I although
I finally got up the nerve to tell him,
I couldn't find it in me to stick around.
I am a coward because I can never bring myself
to admit to guys that I like them.
I am a coward because what should've been said two years
ago, never was, and I'm sure now I've ruined my chances.
I am a coward because I no longer would even know
what to do with myself should I get in a relationship.
I have a sinking feeling that whatever
self assured mentalities and character traits I now have were
all just self justified excuses to allow myself to become a coward.
Never the less,
I'm now an idiot.
I am an idiot because I drank
too much vodka (for me) and then decided
to travel across the city too late at night.
I'm an idiot because after I got home (though gillian
didn't think it was possible), in my drunken state I completely
lost my keys. There is now a now a hole in my memory as to where
I put them. I'm not really sure what I'm going to do.
Gap
It was mid November and I had been working at Gap for a few weeks. Being that it was just before the whole “Thanksgiving/Christmas shopping fiasco,” they had all five hundred employees working to unpack the stock whenever there was a spare moment.
I had just gotten to work and seeing that the Body floor was pretty dead, my manager Lucy assigned me to unpacking stock along with a girl named Samantha. I was feeling fairly confident since I’d done this the day before. All around us, people were hacking away thin white strips of plastic that kept the boxes closed, removing clothing from the boxes, and staking them into semi neat piles. Seeing us, one of the stockroom guys turned to us. In his hand he held a box cutter. Looking at it I could tell that it was dull, but the guy handed it off to me anyway and took his leave.
I began the long process of unpacking. Since the blade was dull, I had to come up with my own method of cutting through the plastic strips. I stabbed the middle of the strip, cut right, and then cut left. I was on my forth box when I came across a plastic strip that was even more adverse to the blade than the rest. Further action had to be taken. With my left hand now holding the stubborn plastic strip down, I began my method. Stab the middle, cut right, cut lef-… the box cutter slipped from my had and had pierced an artery in my left arm.
Blood came squirting out like a fountain. My immediate thoughts were: “Wow, I can’t believe I just did that!” and “I guess Quentin Terintino wasn’t over exzadurating with the blood.”
Immediately I grabbed and applied pressure to my forearm where I’d cut myself. Blood seeped through my fingers and onto the floor. I ran to Lucy and said, “Lucy! I’ve been stabbed!” As she looked at the trail of blood I’d left in my wake, she turned pale. Apparently blood wasn’t her thing. She began to look sick.
Either out of concern or simply to remove the sickening sight of me bent over holding my bleeding arm; she ordered me to the bathroom to wash my wound. Two steps in, the bright florescent lights flip on and the door slams behind me, and locks.
My mother had taught my brother and I at a very early age some of the finer points on what to do should you hurt yourself… among those: don’t put ice on a burn (you’ll only make it worse), apply heat to stiff or soar joints/muscles, cold to swollen and/or bruised muscles, and apply pressure to bleeding wounds. Armed with this knowledge, there was no way in hell I was going to remove my hand from my arm while it was still gushing blood.
I did the only thing I could; I stood there listening to my boss and coworkers as they ran around freaking out and yelling advice from the other side of the door. My head began to feel light and the edges of my vision began to turn black.
It was at that moment I began to contemplate death; more precisely my death. Although I had never imagined or wanted to die in the Gap, the overall idea didn’t seem too be frightening. In fact, to slip into that ever-increasing black void seemed more and more comforting as the minutes wore on.
It was then that Lucy burst through the door. She grabbed me and sat me down in a blue plastic chair. The EMT’s they promised were coming. There were two of them. They were both middle aged, over weight and balding. They weaved their way between the mannequin parts and boxes. There were no introductions. Without missing a beat they said, ”So I heard you’ve got a Gap in your arm.” They laughed at their “clever” joke, but although I smiled and laughed with them, I couldn’t help but thinking “Nice guys, how long did it take you to think that one up?” “Oh, hah, yep,” I said aloud instead.
In the end, the wound that made pools the size of Lake Michigan, ended up being an inch long, and a quarter of an inch deep. Thanks to that slit in my skin, I received my first stitches of my life that night.
that paper went over alot better than I though it would.
Monday, May 25, 2009
Subway circa 2009
CTA signs litter the platform at intervals;
once painted white, are now a dirty beige.
Water steadily drips from the man made ceiling
which florescent lights cast shadows.
A platform made of red dyed cement,
it too is dirty with the dust from the feet of travelers.
the train comes.
In the train car,
the ride is bumpy though we travel at 15 miles per hour.
A man confused, asks for directions to Millennium Park Station.
Preoccupied with their own lives, the faces of the passengers seem saddened.
Outside the windows, the only view is walls of the underground.
Reflections of the car inside is the only real view you'll get.
What I Dig About My Apt. Thus Far.
I like that I can sit on my porch.
That everyone is just a little bit closer
and that we can do some ‘growing up’ together.
I like that I can hear birds, see squirrels and chipmunks.
That I can hear people working on their lawns… or whatever they
want to call them.
I like Jewl Osco’s wall on Paulina
and the way it changes during the day. I like
our potted plants and the cut throughs between friends’ places.
I like manikin legs diving through chairs… or what we call our
“Instillation piece”; and that when the wind blows through them,
the trees sound like water flowing through a stream.
Saturday, May 23, 2009
My Summer Thus Far
Wake up at 7:08 every morning.
I immediately go to the kitchen to make
a fresh cup of coffee and eat a bagel with cream cheese.
I then proceed to sit in bed while editing the manifest photos
Until I feel good and ready to head out to the porch.
When I do, I sit out t(here) for several hours with my laptop
Stealing wifi when I can. In order to feel productive,
I quietly do chores around the “house”.
When everyone finally wakes up
I head indoors to sit in the living room.
And I eat lunch.
From there, my day begins.
Everything before that is only pre-game.
found a way to tame my hair.. thus, my new summer hair. cuz i'm lazy.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
I know that it might
be a little ghetto, but since this
is our last week here and everyone is moving
out, my dorm has put out these boxes for people to
throw their stuff in that they don't want.
And although I know
we're supposed to keep it in there..
only the strong survive man. I'm about
to be broke as shit (as I don't have a job yet
and I'll have to pay bills and afford traveling on the CTA
w/o a upass) soooo if I see food, I'm taking it. just sayin'.
Though I think I might
stop taking since i've already got a ton
of food from today and the amount will last me at least
a week.
idk.
No more complacency
no more bull shit work
no more taking it just to please others.
More Quality, less quantity.
I'm taking down everything
I've done over the past 5 years from
the public's eyes, and only leaving them for
those of my friends and family.
I'm reconstructing who
I am as a photographer.
I'm going to explore and find
beauty.. and the essence of things.
No more taking things for face value.
Just because others do it, doesn't mean I'll have to.
Thank God for new friends.
By being who they are, they've put
me in check as a photographer and person.
What have I been doing for the past year?
who the hell knows.
No more creating (only)
for others.
Every Single Shot.
Screw this,
no more complaints.
Life is good and these are only
mere hurtles that I must jump through.
In all actuality, I am the only thing that holds
myself back. I am my greatest optical.
I need to just do things,
not think about them too much;
not sike myself out.
Cut back on the nostalgia;
I live for today. The time we
live in is exciting and we are able to experience it.
Tomorrow is the day I want it to be and nothing more or less.
It's time to take in all things and appreciate them.
.
What Makes This Week Stressful
there's just all together too much
to do... and not enough time.
worse part is that it keeps
getting piled on.
I'm exhausted
and it's only the beginning.
Plan for today:
-fuck my life
-go to manifest meeting at 9:30a
-work on papers
-take a break and go look at matrices in wicker park
-go home, work on papers
-go to the MOCA and work to work on paper
-do laundry
Monday, May 11, 2009
Blowin' in the Wind
Sam stopped by earlier.
Only me and Bobby Dylan are alive now.
In the moments when i should've been sleeping
I discovered this:
It's an image that really sticks with you.
It's an image I wish I could've created.
for now though, I'll just stare at it's
strange beauty.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Today
-clean
-pack
-finnish final paper for doc & social change (due wends)
-take a shower
Tomorrow (monday)
-wake up early
-beg residence life for access to mail room to get my matting supplies
-run to blick and get matt board cut to size
-run to darkroom and begin matting asap
-go to final foundations/darkroom class and present my final for critique
-go home
-clean
-start/finnish final paper for humanities
Tuesday
-clean and pack
-go to wicker park to look at matrices
-go to MoCA
-begin paper/final presentation for humanities
Wednesday
-go to final Documentary & Social Change class, turn in final paper
-clean and finnish packing
-buy/pick up matrices from store and bring to apartment
-finnish writing final humanities presentation
-sleep at apartment
Thursday
-make sure paper is done
-make sure everything is packed and cleaned
-work at Industry night from 4p-10p
-sleep at apartment
Friday
-wake up and go to the loop
-turn in final humanities paper and presentation
-dick around
-work manifest from 11a-10p
-meet up with dad
-sleep at apartment
Saturday
-wake up
-get breakfast with dad
-move my stuff from plymouth to the loop
-sign out
-hang out with dad till 6p
Sunday
chill the hell out.
-clean
-pack
-finnish final paper for doc & social change (due wends)
-take a shower
Tomorrow (monday)
-wake up early
-beg residence life for access to mail room to get my matting supplies
-run to blick and get matt board cut to size
-run to darkroom and begin matting asap
-go to final foundations/darkroom class and present my final for critique
-go home
-clean
-start/finnish final paper for humanities
Tuesday
-clean and pack
-go to wicker park to look at matrices
-go to MoCA
-begin paper/final presentation for humanities
Wednesday
-go to final Documentary & Social Change class, turn in final paper
-clean and finnish packing
-buy/pick up matrices from store and bring to apartment
-finnish writing final humanities presentation
-sleep at apartment
Thursday
-make sure paper is done
-make sure everything is packed and cleaned
-work at Industry night from 4p-10p
-sleep at apartment
Friday
-wake up and go to the loop
-turn in final humanities paper and presentation
-dick around
-work manifest from 11a-10p
-meet up with dad
-sleep at apartment
Saturday
-wake up
-get breakfast with dad
-move my stuff from plymouth to the loop
-sign out
-hang out with dad till 6p
Sunday
chill the hell out.
Saturday, May 9, 2009
Thursday, May 7, 2009
The List
Taking after pete, I'll start.
-I like taking the stairs two at a time
-I like sleeping during the rain
-i like the smell of my brother's cologne
-I like my brother and miss him more than he knows
-I like my parents and family and miss the rest of them as well
-I like my baby nephew wilson and zetta
-I like slack lining
-I like eating with friends
-I like large bodies of water
-I like staring off into fire
-I like ring-billed gulls
-I like bears
-I like that me and my best friend both named our childhood stuffed teddy polar-bears "Bear Bear"
-I like sitting around all day reading books
-I like movies that I can get into
-I like documentaries
-I like the smell of dirt (like the way Plymouth's stairwells smell like
-I like passionate people
-I like people that aren't afraid to step outside of their comfort zones
-I like people that don't care what others think
-I like having no drama
-I like walking and singing along lake michigan
-I like traveling
-I like the idea of studying and living abroad
-I would like to go to New York City one day
-I like that I'll be going to up-state New York to visit family for the 1st time in years in the summer
-I like my TA Kelly because she's fun and amazing
-I like waking up soar in the morning after working out (I feel accomplished)
-I like sitting out in the park
-I like "oldies" music
-I like singing (on any occasion)
-I like sitting and playing guitar by the window and watching the world go by
-I like having dinner with my family
-I like buying gifts for my parents that weren't bought with their money in some way
-I like the tought of one day being able to provide for my parents like they've done for me all these years
-I like listening to music loud enough in my ears to where I feel like my life is synced with a soundtrack
-I like simon and garfunkel
-I like watching "old" movies
-I like learning about other cultures
-I like figuring out/learning what made people who they are standing infront of me at that moment
-I like taking care of my friends
-I like riding the "L" tracks
-I like japanese hibachi grills
-I like mongolian bbq
-I like chinese food
-I like tex-mex and mexican food
-I like making spaghetti sauce from scratch because it reminds me of my mom
-I like fall the most, but I like spring as well
-I like conversations over coffee, tea, beer or wine on my porch
-I like watching the sunset
-I like the smell of photo chemicals on my hands
-I like flossing and finding stuff in my teeth (i feel it validates the process of flossing)
-I like having my eye brows waxed
-I like not knowing what my favorite color is
-I love old photographs
-I like the darkroom (it's comforting)
-I like that I now know some people in the darkroom
-I like talking to those people in the darkroom and helping them figure out their prints
-I love my dog Peanut
-I love that my first pets were named after civil war generals- Stonewall Jackson (my dog) and Ulysses S. Grant (my cat)
-I like the idea of getting a black cat and naming it Vengeance just because
-I like fields... no matter what Alex says
-I like receiving mail that isn't bills or junk mail
-I like history
-I love hearing stories about my parents before they were my parents
-I love my bestfriend Trib
-I like that my other bestfriend Cam is going to becoming up to chicago in the summer
-I like good photographers
-I like imagining scenes in my mind when I listen to music
-I like film (as a medium.. not a craft.. photo film)
-I like not writing blog entries straight across
-I like to think that I'll be able to do something significant with my life
-I like to believe one day I'll have a love life
-I like tea
-I like being a barista (when I can)
-I like my coffee with lots of cream and sugar
-I like video blogs
-I like filming my friends
-I like putting my friends/people in front of the lens and seeing what they do
-I like sandwiches
-I like chocolate
-I like baking
-I like cooking
-I like to rearrange my room when I grow tired of it
-I like lighting
-I like listening to music and watching thunderstorms with the lights off
-I like to play sports non-competitively/outside of a league
-I like to watch sports when in the mood
-I like wine and cheese
-I like a well carbonated beer
-I like well carbonated pepsi and dr. pepper
-I just like dr. pepper in general
-I like to drink water
-I like granola
-I like dancing in my apartment/home when no one is around
-I like sleeping in oversized hoodies and underwear
-I like lounging around in boxers
-I like to discuss politics, phycology, theories, news, religion, ect..
-I like music, but who doesn't
-I like being ridiculous
-I like cleaning when I'm stressed
-I like the thin curling smoke incense creates
-I like graffiti and street art
-I like being in movie theaters
-I like watching movies in the dark while rapped up in a blanket
-I like watching beatles music videos
-I like watching footage of old performances from the 50's-70's
-I like being with friends
-I like being alone
-I like naps
-I like to sleep in completely darkrooms that are silent
-I like making lists
-I like writing lists
-I like to keep up with whatever one (that I care about) is doing
-I like unexpected visits from friends
-I like visits from friends
-I like changing my hair when I get bored
-I like procrastinating
-I like to sometimes create awkward situations just to see what happens
-I like the smell of fresh laundry
-I like the smell of 'clean' more than anything
-I like the smell of things baking
-I like panting
-I like feeling productive (which i was earlier but now i'm not)
-I like feeling full... but not too full
-I like being told that my work is good
-I hate being told that I'm a good photographer (I always feel awkward and don't know what to say)
-I like days where the weather feels perfect
-I like getting songs stuck in my head
-I like knowing that I only do certain things around people if I feel comfortable with them (i.e. sing, dance, be affectionate)
-I like knowing that I rarely lie
-I like the idea of being in a band
-I like it when my room is clean (though I rarely is)
-I like people with good humor
-I like seeing who we used to be and realizing who we are
-I like the few times that I'm eloquent
-I like moleskins
-I like finishing journals
-I like collaboration
-I like that pete's friends are moving to chicago
-I like the idea of traveling to Wisconsin, indiana, and michigan this summer
-I like songs where I know every word
-I like road trips
-I like touring
-I like sleeping in my own bed
-I like swimming
-I like epcot
-I like words (most times)
-I like sub-cultures
-I like Jimmy Jones
-I like NOT eating at subway
-I like having money
-I like loosing money
-I like being broke
-I like the idea of doing what I want to do for the rest of my life
-I like stories
-I like the 1960's
-I like the 1920's
-I like 2009
-I like not loosing shit
-I like understanding things
-I like being able to think
-I like hugs from cat
-I like the idea of being done with moving and packing
-I like reflecting
-I like being native american although I wish i knew more about my heritage
-I like that no one can tell you who you are
-I like being able to find songs that are stuck in your head
-I like hummus
-I like the possibilities of what i could do
-I like change
-I like being apart of historical events
-I like judging what is historical and what isn't
-I like learning
-I like being in book stores for hours just figuring out what I wanna read
-I like movie stores for the same reason
-I like the journey
-I like the hunt
-I like the results
-I like diptychs
-I like thinking outside of the box
-I like trying new things
-I like being comfortable
-I like being uncomfortable
-I like the idea of time travel, though I fear it
-I like knowing that fears about both the swine flu and year 2012 is bull shit
-I like "quotations"
-I like seeing certain people
-I like being in chicago
-I'd like to be in Buenos Aries
-I like full sized beds
-I will like having my own bed in my apartment
-I like having my own room
-I like that i've tried out many different things so far in my life
-I like sushi and will have some for lunch
-I like lunchables
-I like Pete and Pete
-I like Are You Afraid of the Dark
-I like paranormal stuff
-I like retro and vintage stuff
-I like shopping with my mother
-I like home cooked meals
-I like grilling with Michael, Chris, and Kevin
-I like that we're trying to get an artist community going
-I like that people are intrigued and would like to form one too
-I like contrasty images
-I like shadows
-I like medium format
-I like the feeling of weightlessness that you get while swimming
-I like how my fingers and toes shrivel up after being in the water too long
-I like how light reflects off of water
-I like empty parking lots in the loop
-I like making ideas into tangible-physical forms
-I like completeing things
-I like giving up on things
-I like different perspectives
-I like adding periods after things weather they need them or not.
I'll add more later.. need to be productive.
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
My good friend from canada
is coming in to chicago... actually he's supposed
to have landed landed in O'hare a bit ago.
Freaking excited.. I love adam. I'm supposed to
be in the darkroom today but I think I might skip out for a few
hours just cuz I'm not sure when I'll ever get to see him again unless
I get to go to Nova Scotia
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Monday, May 4, 2009
Photo[grapher] of the Day. 05.04.09
New Deal:
I fully realize there's
not many people (if any) that read this blog..
but even still, in an effort to try to showcase some
very good photographers that I've watched over the past
year to couple of years, daily I will try to post a photo or two
from my contacts on flickr as well as from my "favs" gallery on DA.
Todays: Tobias Brabansk
I've watched his work on DeviantArt for at least a year or so now
(he goes under the name CrazyTob on there) and have continually been
impressed by how simple yet intriguing his work is. He takes moments from
his everyday life and showcases them. I really dig that. Check out his gallery as well
as his blog.
10723.007
10723.006
Friday, May 1, 2009
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Cat says that history holds
the present captive. Jeff Shiltz
says that history doesn't stay put.
I've known and believed what Jeff says
but i'm beginning to believe Cat too.
What is it that draws me
to the 1960's and 70's? I'd like
to say "I'm not sure," but I've got an
inkling. My mother was born in 1953,
and my father was born in 1947. In 1971
my mother graduated high school, and my father
probably did some where around 1965.
Though my father generally never really opened up
much about his life before being my father, my mother has.
As strange as it may seem I always considered the times when they'd
share stories of their youth with me to be special
and in some sense I felt honored.
From my father, the darker stories from
the 50's and 60's came through. On those
rare occasions, he'd tell me stories about growing
up in a ghetto in up-state new york. About how he
got jumped one day and how he had to learn to defend
himself. He'd tell me about the time when his mother died
and how he, his little brother wally, and his father all with-drew
into themselves afterwards and how it became the downfall of their
relationship as a family. He told me about the time when his father married
a woman not much older than him and how she wanted nothing to do with my
father or his brother. And how right after graduating from high school his father
told him to move out; he imagined how betrayed Wally must have been when dad left
for college... "leaving him" to defend for himself against their father and that woman.
He told me about how he got out of going to vietnam because of some surgery but also
how to this day he refuses to eat vietnamese food because the memories of how so many
of his friend died because of that war are still so strong.
From my mother the stories
where more varied when it came to tone.
Though she'd never go into too much detail,
she told me about how it was to grow up in a small town
where everyone knew your family and how it was to live with parents
who were alcoholics and justified their early drinking habits with the phrase
"It's always 5 o'clock somewhere". She told me about how her little sister Nancy
told everyone that she wanted to be a kindergarden drop-out and that she was an
indian princess. She told me of trips to Texas where they'd stock up on Dr. Pepper, frito's
and corn-dogs because they just didn't have those things in Up-state New York at that time.
And how her father would let them buy as much fabric as they'd like in order to sew their own clothing
but how they could never go out and buy their own clothes despite how well off their family was.
She told me about how her father used to make everyone take their hats off inside of the house
and when she brought her potential boyfriends over how he'd inspect them and if they
had a hole in their pants how he'd put his finger in it and rip that hole right through until their entire pant leg
was open. She also told me about her friend the "long haired hippy weirdo", as her father referred to him, and how
he'd ride his bike from one county through the mountains over to Broadalbin just to see her and their friends.
She also told me about the boyfriends she had. How she'd generally date the athletic types... but how she also
ended up dating a drummer from some local band and ended up with my father a "geek". Though I heard the story
of the guy she dated in college from Long Island and her trip there to meet his family and the comments they
made about how she had a "pushed up Protestant nose" or the classic "she's a nice girl but too bad she isn't jewish",
she did tell me once the story of a guy she dated in high school that had proposed to her right before
he left for vietnam, and how she had to turn him down.
It's with that history I was raised. From the time they brought me
home, music, objects, and stories from that era have been in the undertones
of my life. There's hardly a time that I can remember we didn't listen to the so called
"oldies" when were were in the car or didn't have it blasting whenever we did chores.
As I grow older I realize that these things have wound themselves into my very being.
I am just as much a product of the 1960's as were my parents or any other person
that grew up then. And in a sense I am captive of that era. History repeats it's self.
My father taught me that. I look at events that happened when they were my age and
I see correlation's with what's happening now. I am a captive.
but, i'm not too troubled by it... but i do sometimes wonder if
it skews my views on what's happening now.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Summer of Love
I'm deeming summer of 2009
the 'Summer of Love'. This isn't
because it's the 40th aniversary of
THE Summer of Love, 1969, but because what
the hell else could it be when surrounded by friends
and limited limitations. This could and will be good.
I'm looking forward to it.
I'm compiling a mix for
this summer which has only old tracks
which I dig. So far I've got:
1. Lets Live for Today by Grass Roots
2. She's Not There by The Zombies
3. For What It's Worth by Buffalo Springfield
4. (I Can't Get No) Satisfaction by The Rolling Stones
that's all I have so far.. still working on it.
Monday, April 27, 2009
So I've decided,
fuck all my other ideas.
I suppose good things can come through
from bad things. I found that along with my
35mm camera, my medium format camera is broken too.
I've been kinda stressed out all day about it but went through
and developed and made 4 contact sheets and one print (thus far)
from my rolls.
Anyway, I was looking at
the contact sheets for those rolls of film
and decided on a new theme.
I want to explore
the current state of my friendships
via photography while employing every/any trick
in the"book" in order to communicate that. Weather it be
in focus, blurry, panned, timelappsed, head out of frame/cut off,
them and/or me in frame or not... idk anything I can.
So far I have one print and thus far
it's the 1st photo that i've been extremely happy
with mostly because I think it's the first truthful thing I've
shot in a long time. I think it really gives insight into the kinds of
people that me and (my bestfriend) michael as well as our relationship.
I'm hoping to achieve the same truth with all the photos that I shoot for this project.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Medicine + Journeying
at 20 years old,
i'm still only trying to
understand the world around me.
and maybe things that
can't be explained logically as well.
Monday, April 20, 2009
cat once told me that
you could tell alot about a photographer
from their work. I wonder if that's true.
Because i've been very good at this.
All Things Considered.
She's slipping through my fingers
and despite my best efforts, I feel like
I'm going to loose her weather I will it or not.
At times I feel like it's as if we're breaking up.
Last night when I got off the train
I had to take sometime to myself;
thus I went on a mini journey.
I gave offerings to the great 'ocean'
that is Lake Michigan and walked among
the great birds of the air. They were the only
ones there to feel my sadness.
But that's the way I willed it.
After all, I hate being 'weak' in front of people.
It's in my nature.
and despite my best efforts, I feel like
I'm going to loose her weather I will it or not.
At times I feel like it's as if we're breaking up.
Last night when I got off the train
I had to take sometime to myself;
thus I went on a mini journey.
I gave offerings to the great 'ocean'
that is Lake Michigan and walked among
the great birds of the air. They were the only
ones there to feel my sadness.
But that's the way I willed it.
After all, I hate being 'weak' in front of people.
It's in my nature.
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Possible Plan for Today
-finnish eating toast w/ butter & grape jam
-finnish this list
-take a shower & straighten my hair
-get box from mail room
-get lunch from the UC
-shoot for comparative assignment
-take out money of apartment
-get money order
-go to wicker park with maddy to look at furniture
-go to my bank, bank of america or chase to deposit check
-go to gap get my W4
-scan in my W4 end email it to dad
-go to the UC for dinner
-go to dark room
-clean kitchen, living room, bathroom
-start packing
-take photos for finals of packing
-figure out what the hell is goin' on for easter this weekend
-figure out where to find the money for it
-figure out what's goin on for the christening of the apartment next friday
-cure cancer
might have to move some of these things
to tomorrow.. so much stuff
my fellow photographers.
I've always been a big fan of
Bobby Doherty's work. It's been nice
and strange to see his work progress over
the last couple of years. There's been a tremendous
change of style in his work from when he was in high school
to now as (nearly) a Jr. in college at SVA.
Anyway, you guys should check out his work..
it's generally worth checking out.
just sayin'
p.s. I hate the way blogspot cuts off photos.. -_-
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Monday, April 6, 2009
Refusing to sleep
I have my doubts, I'm in a funk.
Being surrounded by people that are
good at what they do and agressivly go after
what they want everyday is inspiring and daunting.
Watching and listening to them fills me with joy and leads
me to doubts.
I see their work
and I wonder "what the hell have
I been doing to progress in my work/craft,
and to share my vision?" "not much" is the only
answer that I can come up with. There was a time when
i would plan shoots and or take time to myself to go out to
explore and photograph... and in the very lease spend more than
a second or two framing up the shot. There was thought to it. OR at least
a bit of thought. Now my work is filled with party photos, shots of freinds hanging
out and wedding photos. Is this the a product of laziness or rather just a new direction
in which my work is going? or possibly both? I have no clue.
I needed a space where I could
layout what I thought were pretty good examples of
my work and what I am capable of. I've begun another flickr...
some place where I don't just "vomit up" everything that I had shoot.
I'm at a point where I need to see if my work stands up to those around me.
I'm not sure that it does. I realize that my style of photography is very diffrent from
those of my peers; but even still I'm not sure if the things that make up my style
make it seem some how less mature. I think that's the main thing that I
need to find in and for my photography, a sense a maturity.
Trying to gain insperation
I've been looking at the portfolios of
new and old favorites... the likes of
Ryan Pfluger, Becky Tillett, Anna Celii, Rodney Smith
Amy Stein, Boogie, Aaron Farley, Andrew Hefter, Anik Hankan,
Llyod Hughes, Will Govus, and Erin Olaf
Seeing their work
and mine together, I realize that
my roots in past experiences working both as a
fashion & music photographer still stretch and profoundly
effect the work that I do today. I'm not sure if I should find a
way to suppress that or if I could even if wanted to. Those experiences
are after all my building blocks.
Although this is all
very daunting to myself, I still realize
that this is in fact a good thing. If given the chance
this is an inner struggle which will raise my work to the next level.
The last time this sort of thing happened, it lasted for years, but brought me
to a point where I could actually be proud of what I'd shot. Let's hope this continues
to be true for this next battle with photography.
Once again I'm reduced to the level of a child picking up
the camera for the first time. Humility has broken in, and I feel like I
don't know what the hell I'm doing or what the fuck I'm talking about.
I'll take this one step at a time.
Did I ever tell you insecurities could be a good thing?
I'm skipping class to personally focus on photography by myself.
I'm forcing myself out into the cold April snows to see what I can get.
Tonight I'm going to Jes's for a critique and time with some fellow photographers.
I don't think I'll have much to present except some old[er] work.
Never be complacent in your craft.
Struggle and Grapple with it. Have your doubts.
Push YOURSELF to figure that shit out. Face what
troubles you. You've got everything to prove to yourself.
My lens is broken.
I've received free film although
i most likely will not be needing it
for assignments. I'll be forced to shoot
with my manual film cameras.... which is good anyway
as I seem to be more concuss of what it is exactly that I'm
taking/creating. It's good. I need this.
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Saturday, April 4, 2009
Thursday, April 2, 2009
is it strange
that I feel like within the next
6 months, the art/inspiration atmosphere
that I had originally sought in coming to columbia
will finally be achieved? Meaning that, I think I've finally
found a group of people that are completely passionate about
their craft to a ridiculous degree. They don't kind of love it, they don't
like it. They live it, they breath it, and if they could, or when they can, they
eat it. Their craft is an essential and dynamic part of who they are.
Sitting on the beach talking to my friend
Sam Gove, he told me he once said to his [ex]
girlfriend that his camera comes before her; he was completely
serious. Apparently she was offended by that... but
personally I kind of think that's the way it ought to be.
Because no offense to significant others but what I do
and what I create will always be a profound part of me weather
others stay or go.
I really enjoy that I've found people
of like mind[s]. It's really inspiring to be
around those kinds of people no matter what their
craft is.
Secretly I've been wanting to
start a sort of artist collective... uh
a salon if you will. Sort of like The Factory..
but not in the way that one person is the dominate
person or creator there... and I would definitely not have
anyone like Andy Warhol who would completely use and rip off
the fellow artist around him with in his circle.
I want to be able to help take care of my friends/fellow artists
the way that Alfred Stieglitz did. Obviously I have neither the money
nor the connections that he did... but it would be nice.
For now, i suppose Ill just continue to have a place where my friends
are welcome to stay and feed them... and if possible continue to have things
that they can barrow or use to help them articulate and carry through with their visions.
it occurred to me the other day
that when I look at people and then
see their work, it's never the [kind of] style that
I'd imagine them to create... or vice versa.
This is true of the Mountain Goats singer
as well as my dark room teacher Chris Schneberg.
Both guys seem to be incredibly relaxed and actually
rather hilarious. Despite this both of their work is kind of
dark in a way. I dig this though as it is a complete surprise.
Speaking of which, I've
been checking out my professor's work
(both Chris Schneberg and Javiar Carmona) lately.
I've gotta say that although I'm impressed by chris's
work, there are very few images that javiar (my photo I professor)
has created that I'm impressed with... which is entirely frustrating...
especially when it seems that he's trying to suppress our (the students)
ability to create or continue to use our own sense of style.
Idk I feel like with his photography, yeah maybe he used "the rules"
but his photos have no light, soul, or poetry to them... you know what I mean?
There's nothing to keep me there compelled. Rules only get you so far.
Chris's work is pretty cool. You can definately
tell that he loves the dark room. The majority of subjects
that he shoots are of situations/things that look to have taken place
awhile ago (like turn of the century) and the photos themselves have been
treated as such... so they even feel like they're from that era.
If you went to a gallery showing, you'd be able to see that he takes
it even a step further and makes 3D images out of his photos. He
doesn't use 3D in a way that what ever it is in the foreground pops way
out at you... but rather to give the photos a sense of depth... much in the style/way
that Coraline does. I dig it.
3D:
Oddly, I'm having quite a run-in with
photographers lately. On the way back home
to chicago from dallas, by chance, I happened to
be sat by a photo professor from RISD named John Hames.
I guess he's actually been a photographer for quiet some time now
(30 years). But it was pretty sweet cuz beside being able have great conversations
with him over the coarse of two flights (dallas to Little Rock, Little Rock to Chicago)
he was able to give me some photoshop advice and street shooting & documentary shooting
advice... which lol I'm sort of in desperate need of.
Also, it was nice to meet another photographer to works primarily with
a wide angle lens (he said he shoots mainly with a 28mm lens) which is nice
as I've been feeling kind of pressured over the coarse of the semester to shoot with
a normal to telephoto lens... but I'm realizing that shooting wide angle is pretty much just
my style.
John Hames:
other than that,
i'm at odds of what to do
with myself today. There's a secret show
or other from one of the guys that used to be in
Death from Above, think i'm going to that.
It's gonna be crazy, two shows in two days. I
can't even tell you the last time i went to a show in chicago.
Monday, March 30, 2009
It didn't hit me that
I was back in chicago until
an hour after I was back. It was
good to sit in my messy living room
amongst friends again. But also very strange
knowing that now, texas is no longer where I live
in any way shape or form. The house I stayed in is now
"my parents house" or simply "the place where I grew up".
I've still got alot of growing up to do, but this time it's in my
own place and now completely
on my own terms.
My moving (officially) to Chicago
has really hit my brother harder than I thought
it would. It's been only with in the past year and a half/2 years
that me and him have actually gotten to know each other and appreciate
one another. He's probably one of my favorite people in my life and I'm sad
that I won't be able to see him as much anymore... but I can't be stuck in dallas.
My wonder lust is too strong to stay in that place; no matter how much I live the people there.
On the upside, I have been
talking to Clayton, Eamon, Trib, Tim and Cam
about them possibly coming up this summer for
Lalapolooza or just to come up and chill here with me for
a bit and they're all thinking about it which is good. I just hope
they actually do come up, cuz that'd be sweet.
Friday, March 20, 2009
I feel like everytime
I come home there's always
someone that I've inadvertently
trying to convince to come to columbia:
Cam, Emily, Trib, (random girl that hangs out
at The MO), and the list goes on..
It's weird, and I always feel strange afterwards.
So I've come home
for spring break.
Things I've experienced in
the last day and a half:
1. seeing chicago at sunrise
2. flying (while sleeping)
3. seeing green grass
4. smelling freshly cut grass (def. a suburban smell)
5. petting my dog
6. being home.
Unfortunately being here won't
be all pleasure as I have to pack up
my life and send it all away to chicago.
I (and my roommates) officially got our apartment
yesterday so there era of still partly living in texas is up.
From here on out I'm only a visiter. a guest in my parents house.
Home for now on will be (in) chicago.
This line of thought/reality has lead me
to the theme of my photo final.
Leaving My Life.
It'll be shot in black & white
on 120 film... so medium format.
I'm gonna film friends in locations that
have been important/influential over the coarse
of the last 19 and a half years of my life here in texas.
as such I'll have to shoot it here while I'm on spring break.
Downside: Dallas doesn't like to carry film.
SO i'm gonna have to hunt it all down.
gotta take colin home.
more latta.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
She told me that
she was proud of me today
and that she thought i was improving.
I didnt say it then
but it actually meant alot.
More often than not
I feel as if my work is going
no where these days. It's all completely
self-induced weather I mean it to or not.
What I really wanna do
is to get out of my comfort zone
and do some documentary photography
or something.
I need a new topical/themed/genre challenge.
Something that will make me feel stupid and not
in control. Something that I'll sit and think on. Something
I'll spend time planning out how to do it. Wrestling over ideas
for it.
I want/need something like that again.
But really I'm the only one depriving myself of it.
Just gotta get out there and do it.
Monday, March 16, 2009
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Saturday, March 7, 2009
[ ]
I [generally] share everything I have.
it's just the way things go.
and still I'm the
most ridiculous person
that I know.
it's just the way things go.
and still I'm the
most ridiculous person
that I know.
Friday, March 6, 2009
Little Bear begin Me.
[had to come up with a myth about my life for my Humanities class. This is what I got.]
The Tale of Little Bear
There was once a baby girl born in the southwest. Early on her mother had decided that having big dreams and children at such a young age was not possible; and so it was decided that she would give the infant away.
Luckily Little Bear landed into the loving care of Tiny & Red, and her new brother Bry. It wasn’t long after that she considered them her real family. Unfortunately, the only gift Little Bear inherited from her birth mother was her knack for being horrible with words. As a child, she was unable to decipher the code in which to read them. Many a night she would sit at the table with her mother as she tried to teach Little Bear how to read. These sessions never went very well as they would end with Little Bear breaking down in tears completely defeated.
Eventually she had learned to read words. But she found as she entered into adolescence her ability to wield them in such a way as to describe what she meant was somewhat limiting. This to her was very frustrating. She tried many different things, but nothing seemed to work out as well as she needed them to. After time, she stumbled on to photography. Or more like Mathew Hall. All her life she had been taking photos and never thought much of it. But after viewing his work her eyes were thrown open; photography could be art. And so, afterward every photo she took was an attempt to create art.
Try as she might, the ability to create art with her photography always seemed to allude her. Once she was even told that she ought to quit because she wasn’t getting anywhere in her attempts. Despite this, she kept trying and eventually began to get better.
Little Bear’s emerging passion for photography started her on a journey. On this journey she met many photographers from around the world who would lend their advice. Due to this she was able to learn how to further articulate what she wanted the photos to communicate.
Eventually her journey took her to Chicago where she is currently studying photography even further and plans to always keep it apart of her life.
[not the best written thing ever.. but whatever, I've always been bad about figuring out how things will end.. or how they could/can]
The Tale of Little Bear
There was once a baby girl born in the southwest. Early on her mother had decided that having big dreams and children at such a young age was not possible; and so it was decided that she would give the infant away.
Luckily Little Bear landed into the loving care of Tiny & Red, and her new brother Bry. It wasn’t long after that she considered them her real family. Unfortunately, the only gift Little Bear inherited from her birth mother was her knack for being horrible with words. As a child, she was unable to decipher the code in which to read them. Many a night she would sit at the table with her mother as she tried to teach Little Bear how to read. These sessions never went very well as they would end with Little Bear breaking down in tears completely defeated.
Eventually she had learned to read words. But she found as she entered into adolescence her ability to wield them in such a way as to describe what she meant was somewhat limiting. This to her was very frustrating. She tried many different things, but nothing seemed to work out as well as she needed them to. After time, she stumbled on to photography. Or more like Mathew Hall. All her life she had been taking photos and never thought much of it. But after viewing his work her eyes were thrown open; photography could be art. And so, afterward every photo she took was an attempt to create art.
Try as she might, the ability to create art with her photography always seemed to allude her. Once she was even told that she ought to quit because she wasn’t getting anywhere in her attempts. Despite this, she kept trying and eventually began to get better.
Little Bear’s emerging passion for photography started her on a journey. On this journey she met many photographers from around the world who would lend their advice. Due to this she was able to learn how to further articulate what she wanted the photos to communicate.
Eventually her journey took her to Chicago where she is currently studying photography even further and plans to always keep it apart of her life.
[not the best written thing ever.. but whatever, I've always been bad about figuring out how things will end.. or how they could/can]
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Lately
In the past two weeks:
Found out that aparently we've been out of high school long enough to start
having high school stereotyped theme parties.
Long walks in the winter are only as cold as you want them to be.
No matter what I might do to distance myself from film, I will always some how end up being involved in it. (did 2 films in one week)
1) My dream apartment.
a. one block away from kevin and michael
b. 1700 sq. ft ... with in unit washer and drier [thank god!]
c. in wicker park: close enough that if I wanna be down there I can walk or ride a bike; but far enough away that I can avoid it.
d. in my price range... actually under.
2) that me and my dad are a like in the way that sometimes when we get an idea in our head we go off the deep end with it.. or just mentally run with it. Unfortunately this time it's not to my advantage and I'm gonna have to think of damn good reasons on how to counter him and his thought process.
My friends are quiet possibly some of the funniest people that I know.
Found out that aparently we've been out of high school long enough to start
having high school stereotyped theme parties.
Long walks in the winter are only as cold as you want them to be.
No matter what I might do to distance myself from film, I will always some how end up being involved in it. (did 2 films in one week)
1) My dream apartment.
a. one block away from kevin and michael
b. 1700 sq. ft ... with in unit washer and drier [thank god!]
c. in wicker park: close enough that if I wanna be down there I can walk or ride a bike; but far enough away that I can avoid it.
d. in my price range... actually under.
2) that me and my dad are a like in the way that sometimes when we get an idea in our head we go off the deep end with it.. or just mentally run with it. Unfortunately this time it's not to my advantage and I'm gonna have to think of damn good reasons on how to counter him and his thought process.
My friends are quiet possibly some of the funniest people that I know.
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Apartment Hunting.
As usual, i seem to find ways to
screw everything up. But I suppose
this time it's not too bad.. just unplanned.
As it's nearly the 1st of march, I've figured/found
my roommates for next year [which will be def. both Erin
and Maddy].
We've decided that we want to live around the division blue line
stop over in wicker park preferably by Michael and Kevin B.
We're planning to go down to chicago apartment finders office
in blemont this saturday to meet with them and begin the process
of finding a place.
The goal is to move out in the last few weeks of school
into our new place so that we won't be forced to do it all in one
day or to be forced to find storage for a period of time.
All in all I'm looking forward to it.
Both erin and maddy are super nice
and I'll be able to get along/live with them
really well. :]
It helps also that i've got a ton of things
to decorate our [future] apartment with. should
be super nice.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
It seems like in my
circle of friends, talk of protest
and resistance have come up more and more.
They always say that the media learned not to show
the dead [and like images] on television. That it creates
anti-war sediments. I'd say that they also learned not to cover
stories about anti-war & civil rights movements.
I'm tired of my generation
getting shit from the previous ones
saying that we're complacent... that we do nothing.
The problem isn't that we don't care and that we do nothing,
the problem is that we do things and it simply isn't covered.
(examples: a man burned himself alive in the middle of a street in
chicago last year in protest of the iraq war, all ports along the west coast were
shut down on May Day last year in protest of the iraq war, the demonstrations/police riot
at the RNC this past year in St. Paul; all not covered.)
When you begin to realize that the
flow of news and media that you get via
main stream media sources all come from 2 to 3
sources, you have to wonder what the hell are you being fed.
More often than not the average consumer takes in these different
forms of news not questioning anything about them. Not weather what they're
hearing is true or not or weather there is an agenda behind what they're hearing or
why it is that they are hearing THESE stories rather than others.
I never questioned it
until last year and it's not until
this year that I'm even doing anything about it.
I'm choosing now to get my news from alternative outlets
rather than simply turning to mainstream media.
Speaking of which there's
an anti-war and immigration rights coalition
rally/protest on march 14th. I will be there.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Exedra and things like that.
Breath in the cool eastern air
while facing west. Walk a mile in the
the shoes of the boy you bullied in elementary school.
Monday, February 23, 2009
Life in Bernankeville.
The torn flag flutters in the breeze
reflecting the state of the nation.
Below on Michigan avenue the multitudes
of cars decrease as the number of
tattered women and men take to the streets in droves.
Their clumsily written signs are words written for helpless eyes.
The once beautiful copper siding on the skyscrapers are tarnished.
Bridges were built
to bring the people jobs
but were quickly made their homes.
The frigid waters of Lake Michigan serve
as the bath water for millions. The sky is brown
with the dirt of the dust bowl quickly forming in the southern
planes of america. In the streets wild animals run free.
Chicago, 2013
reflecting the state of the nation.
Below on Michigan avenue the multitudes
of cars decrease as the number of
tattered women and men take to the streets in droves.
Their clumsily written signs are words written for helpless eyes.
The once beautiful copper siding on the skyscrapers are tarnished.
Bridges were built
to bring the people jobs
but were quickly made their homes.
The frigid waters of Lake Michigan serve
as the bath water for millions. The sky is brown
with the dirt of the dust bowl quickly forming in the southern
planes of america. In the streets wild animals run free.
Chicago, 2013
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Come Join the Youth and Beauty Brigade.
"The only constant thing is change"
A truer quote, I've never heard. From week to
week I change my plans for life. Although people say,
"you're only 20, you don't need to know what you're going to do
with your life." I always like to know plans so that I can have a map
in my mind for the direction I want to go with my life.
In this case I've taken a turn
that's lead my right back to the decision that
I had made towards the end of last semester:
Major in photography, work on sets outside of
class. The reasons for which I have chosen to come back
around to this direction have changed though. Before
it was out of strict frustration and rebellion. Now
the decision comes from the knowlage that despite all
the b.s. that I have to go through to do photo, I will still never
find anything else that I enjoy more. I am a photographer and will
always be a photographer before I'm a filmmaker.
With that being said, as of right now
I feel like i've gone 14 days with out any weekend
to be seen. Never the less so far it's been good the past
two weeks although stressful. Shooting constantly, printing constantly.
I've been doing some shoots while
hanging out with friends this past week too.
Got a few more to shoot that they've got playing around
in their minds as well. Should be pretty funny/ridiculous.
In this past week Micheal introduced me
to his sister, a website called fecal face, and an artist/photographer
who goes by the name SwampDonkey... and they're all pretty great
I must say.
One last thing: Jaydiohead, I dig it. :]
Thursday, February 19, 2009
... and go.
Today marks the first day in the long secession of days of which I should/will be living in the darkroom. Last night I would've had my camera worked.
It had been suggested that I change the battery for my AE-1, and so today I went out to buy one. As of right now it still has not found it's way into the camera; although not for lack of trying.
Kyle's been cool enough to let me barrow his camera so I think whenever I wake up today, I'll just go out and shoot a few rolls with that. I'm hoping it doesn't fuck up. The shutter sounds nasty, but I really need it to get the job done. I figure I'll take my camera into the cage whenever I go to develop my film and see if they can figure it out.
Last sunday I went out to Pilson for the 1st time to shoot with Sean and Pete whom I had met on saturday night. Since that neighborhood seemed pretty chill, I came back yesterday and shot out there again. This time it was up around the 18th street stop. I got a few exposures in before the camera called it quits and the snow began.
(also snapped a few shots with my digital camera before heading back to the loop as well.)
Rule of the week: Shoot during the day, develop & print at night.
Aka, live sleep and breath photography. These don't even count the random
shoots that I guess Cat, Erin, and Michael all want to do... but since those are to
be shot with the digital camera, those come last.
On an entirely different subject,
it's occurred to me that Michael is quickly
becoming my best friend... that is to say, if it hasn't
happened already.
Are you serious?
Am I the only person that hates this new Pepsi campaign?
It's not so much that I hate the image as much as I hate the way it was/is being executed.
I'm not really sure about you, but i don't want to be bombarded with obnoxious blatant advertisements everywhere I go.
It seems like anytime I step outside of my door in chicago, all I see is Pepsi. I live in chicago, not Pepsi-town!
Jesus Christ. I know in Dallas, it wasn't so bad. It was confided to billboards. In chicago whole buildings and train cars are being taken over. Taking it one step further, at some train stations, once you step out of the train car which is litterily lined with the new pepsi advertisements, you're confronted once again with huge pepsi banners on the platform. Thus, slowly turning chicago into one big 3-dimensional pepsi ad.
... and i'm not really sure if I'd be so bothered by it or even aware of it had I not taken Intro to Cultural Studies. But as it goes, I think it's really freaking annoying.
I've been in the process of reading about 3 to 4 different books at once right now. One of them is called No Logo by Naomi Klein. In her [sub] chapter, Branding the Cityscape she talks about this very thing. (I've scanned in and uploaded the pages from that so the few of you that read this can check it out:pg. 1, pg. 2, pg. 3)
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Cool Hand Luke.
So this might sound a little ridiculous and obvious. But idk I was in the shower (which i've always considered to be my best thinking place) and it hit me. I can still be whatever I want. Or maybe rather I should say study whatever I want.
On one side I still feel like i'm locked into this... that I've taken so many credits that I can't change to photography now and that I should still continue on with film, but on the other had I could still say ef it and just go with photography. I've had a renewed sense of love for the craft since I started taking the classes. It's all very stressful and humbling; but still very exciting. Maybe this has come about simply because these classes force me to go out and take the time to make some worth while images... and to stay with a scene for more than a split second. It also provides me with a challenge.. which i think is something that every photographer needs. My last challenge was music photography and that hasn't been real challenge for a few years now.
I've still got a ton to learn and I could still make the decision to become a photo major. I think that's something that I'll have to decide by the end of the semester though. I'll be playing summer ketch up anyway it goes though.
Today on a whim I decided to finally set up my scanner. I'm pretty stoked on it, I won't lie. I don't know much about scanners, but this one seems to be pretty awesome. It's already scanning better quality than that of the scanner I shared back home with my parents... and it's only running at 300 dpi right now. It goes up to 1600. Stoked. But yeah, so I pretty much just stayed in all night (minus the run to Bar Louie to eat with alison) scanning in some prints from Foundations & Darkroom as well as tons of polaroids that i've had for a good long while now.
Also did probably the most ridiculous shoot with Zach, Chris, Erin, Michael and Cat tonight. Got too caught up with scanning to upload and edit those though. As I right, I'm still procrastinating on the homework that's due at 9am in the morning.. right now it's 2:55am. I need to get a move on.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Because the internet quiet.
annnddd it's gone.
I talked some more with Michael tonight
about it and I am officially off facebook. Which is sweet.
Apparently I'm like 7th person he's got to deactivate their facebooks.
We'll see how this works out.
But really to rely on something
like that to carry through your social interactions
is kind of scary and ridiculous. For Adam [in canada]
and Trib [in AK] I'll be writing them physical letters and sending
them stuff. I've been doing that for awhile now with random strangers thanks
to sendsomething.net. But now I'm gonna start doing it with my friends. More phone
calls will be made. And although I like texts to be more straight to the point, I might have
to give in and become a conversationalist.
So far I guess Maddy hasn't been up
to Greektown, China town, or Little India
so I'll be taking her there... and also to Evanston
so we can go to the Baha'i temple which is absolutely gorgeous
[They build only one Baha'i temple on each content and they just happen
to have built one like 45 or so minutes away which is sweet... probably the most
beautiful structure I've seen so far in my life]. I don't want to end another semester
regretting that I didn't explore... so thankfully maddy and micheal are almost always
down to do so.
After getting back into the loop last night,
I finally went out and took photos last night before
officially going into Plymouth. Most of them look pretty damn
sweet in black and white but i'm keeping them in color mostly just
on personal principle.
I also ended up ninja-ing my way into 2east8th and taking the pac man photos. I'm actually kind of nervous about them. I'm not sure what the school is going to think. They've got all this faith in me to produce a good image... but i don't know, you know. We'll see in the morning.
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