My First Prints

I think there are some things to be learned from these images, the first I made while in photo school, back in the day. First of all, these were made and printed in 1990 and they still look like the day I made them. Real, archival, silver prints, mounted.

I've noticed something in today's digital photo student, several things actually. First, little is taught about editing, and when we put digital cameras in our hands, in many cases, our brains seem to shut off and we end up with far more images than we ever needed or wanted in the first place. Consequently, students don't like to edit. The common scenario seems to go like this.

Student: "I was wondering if you could take a look at my work, I only made a loose edit."
Translation: "I shot too much and didn't edit at all."

Student: "I was wondering if you could help me pick by picking out your favorites."
Translation: "I was hoping you could edit it for me."

I think the important thing about these images is that they were EDITED, then printed, and not quick machine prints, or digital prints made quickly, but rather made in the darkroom, dodged, burned, etc, and then mounted. There was a thought process the entire way, something that I think is lost often times in these days of instant gratification.

The lost art of editing is, in many ways, going full circle, from the thought to the capture, to the edit and then the print. When you print, especially in the dark room, it doesn't come after quick decisions, it comes after you REALLY edit, and decide which prints you will dedicate yourself too.
Not only am I not opposed to digital printing, I do it all the time, but it is a VERY different experience than printing darkroom prints.
Why do you think so many collectors want silver prints as opposed to digital? Ask them.

Kayak Newport

Underwater point and shoot. A friend's BEAUTIFUL handmade kayaks.

Vultures

Mom checking in with a story about vultures.....

Vultures as a whole are not a problem here in our woods. They circle their world watching the living waiting for carrion to provide them the means of sustaining their lives. As rigormortis sets in a once living creature, the vulture seeks it out and devours it, cleaning the land of yet another lifeless creature. Consumimg the flesh of dead animals is repulsive to many forgeting that we humans do it all the time. The only difference is, that we usually cook it before we eat it. This large bird of prey, is covered and colored by brownisn, black feathers except for an unfeathered red head and yellow feet. It is a quiet bird and does not usually cause a disturbance as it it circles overhead. This is not the case here at our cabin in the woods. I don't mind when they come and sit on their favorite branch in a tree near the cabin. They hold their wings open, and sit for awhile allowing their wings to dry and clean. I don't mind when they circle our woods skimming the tree tops carried by the wind currents looking for their mext meal. They don't look big and ominous to me, but they do to someone else who lives here. If the vultures are circling our woods, this means they are circling my hunting dog Gypsys 60 by 70 foot, cedar post rabbit fenced area that is home to most of her prized possessions. She becomes extremely nervous when they appear and rushes in all directions after them whining and barking until they surrender and leave. She is frantic knowing they are after her and her favorite things she has so carefully hidden in her fenced area. There are times during this activity she tries dig up items and locate a new place to bury them. She will outwit the big, quiet, black birds who want her things. The neighbor dog, Hoss gives her warning barks if he sees the vultures before she does. His barks can aften be heard just ahead of the vultures arrival. This situation is a big worry to Gypsy. She is a bird dog and likes most birds. She plays with the doves, finches, titmice and jays. She even tolerates the squirrels in her own way. Its the vultures that have become her Achilles heel. She says we don't really need them. She will be happy when they are on the endangered species list. Her bad dreams are all about vultures. She counts Hoss as loyal and faithful friend. Together she is sure they are going to solve this problem. Sweet dreams.

--

Mas Mexico

Mexico

A long and winding trip to make pictures of locations near Puerto Vallarta.

Random Picture

Birdled Titmouse

Mom, checking in with a story about the dog, unlucky, risky birds and eating lunch on the porch....

There are some Bridled Titmouse working on building a nest in the wren house I put up last year on the front porch of the cabin. It is high, off to the side, near the ceiling on one of the logs. They may share this house with the wrens, if they do something like that here in the Texas Hill Country. I watch them from my perch in the cabin, where I rest each day after working outside and eating lunch. I linger alittle longer to watch the them. Today, I got distracted by a surprise visitor.
I was interrupted by a young, Blue Jay who lost his way at high speed and knocked himself out cold as his head came in contact with one of my porch windows, not the one I was looking through. Since Gypsy was outside that window, I moved quickly to see where she was and if she heard the noise the jay made when it hit. When I saw her, she was showing interest in the sound she had just heard. I jumped up, ran outside and sat on the porch to babysit the eye blinking jay until it flew away. Now, don't jump to conclusions. Just because some young, inexperienced Blue Jay lost his way and ended up unconscious on Gypsys, porch, does not mean, if she could have, she would have clenched her teeth around it and smiled. She has boundless compassion for small injured birds and lizards. However, she does have forgetful moments. This happens as we get older. She gives everyone a fair chance. The lizard she killed was sick and the dove she brought me was already dead from its slap on the head from the cabin window. Or we might say, we assume this was the case. It is true, that concerning many of these events, we will never really know the exact truth. We trust her to be the well disciplined dog we know her to be. She may shave a few edges off what she tells me, but I trust her implicitly. Now back to the Birdled Titmouse.
There are two titmice who come and go from the birdhouse on the porch bringing bits and pieces of grass and twigs for their nest. They take turns entering the house. One goes inside and the other leaves for more nest material or remains perched on top of a nearby log. In an effort to stay closer to the hole in the birdhouse, one of the titmice hangs upside down. Its tiny, claw like feet hang on tightly to the groove under the log, close to the birdhouse. It has difficulty hanging upside down for long periods of time, so it begins to flutter its wing, in a steady, non stopping motion. This gives ballast, so it can continue to hang there, up side down waiting for its mate to finish building their nest. I saw them again later and one of them did the same thing again hanging on the side of the birdhouse. This is a first for me. I have never seen a bird flutter its wings just to help maintain a holding a precarious perch. Usually, they just fly up, land, sit and wait. They are on the front porch, so they are not threatened by Gypsy if they fall. Perhaps this is why they are willing to risk, a questionable, upside down grip that could potentially result in another grip in Gypsys' mouth. Though these situations are my conjured moments, they may hold a word of truth. Gypsy likes birds who takes risks. She patiently points, watches and waits.

Connect 08: The Palm Springs Photo Festival

There are many photo-events held in the United States each year, and abroad, and I know because I have attended many of them. Based on my experience, I have to say that the Connect: Palm Springs Photo Festival is one of, if not the best I have seen.
What makes this event so great is that you never lose the sense of being at a real festival. Based at the Korakia Pension, a beautiful and boutique Palm Springs location, you are continually surrounded by white washed walls and incredible flora and fauna. Although there are many attendees, it really feels intimate, the exact opposite of most photo-events. The primary idea being education and photography. You might be saying, "Well, of course photography!" but what I mean is the real thrust of this festival is the image.
So much of what this industry, and many of it's events, have become is about technology, and while many of the leading technological leaders are at the festival, it never becomes what the focus is about.
The mastermind of this event, LA-based photographer Jeff Dunas, each year compiles a list of master photographers who attend to teach, lecture, give advice, look at work,etc. I think you could center an entire event around ONE of these people and yet Jeff manages to get many of the icons of this business.
Bruce Davidson, Sylvia Plachy, Frank Okenfels, Andreas Bitesnich, Antonin Kratochvil, Keith Carter and Stephen Wilkes..to name a few, were all present during this year's event.
Each day is packed with opportunities, from lectures, to symposiums and nightly presentations. Or, if you wish, pool time at the Korakia. I'm not sure how you could go wrong??
I've attached a few images to give a feel for the local. My advice. Sign up now for next year.

A Moment With A Master

I was fortunate enough to have the experience of taking a workshop with legendary Magnum photographer Bruce Davidson. As part of Connect08, The Palm Springs Photo Festival, myself, and a dozen other students were able to spend the better part of three days with Mr. Davidson, and I have to say, it was a great experience.
Unfortunately, I don't see many people like Bruce coming along these days. The industry has changed, so has the market, and in many cases, the mindset of the photographer, so we have to enjoy folks like Bruce and celebrate what they have been able to accomplish in their lifetime. Fifty years of shooting and counting. Remarkable to say the least.

What I found the most interesting, besides the photos, were the thought and time Bruce committed to his projects. There was a thoughtfulness and regard evident in what he was doing. He doesn't seem to look for the spotlight, but when I would leave the evening slideshows at 11pm, there he was, soaking it all in.

If any of us could accomplish 10% of what he has done, in these times, it would be considered a career. No joke.

All shot with Zeiss Ikon rangefinder camera and 35mm f/2

Moonrise, Central Texas

SFO International

Time on my hands. Airport time.

Filmstrips

Another poem from mom.....




filmstrips stack
a thin strip of life
held on the racks
of joy and strife

cameras are eyes
recording moves
under the sky
finding the grooves

lenses are focusing
automatically
silently rotating
searching to see

paying a toll
stopping at lights
shopping at malls
boarding flights

parking lot scenes
where films stop time
the steetlights beam
revealing a crime

we can't escape
they want to know
where we are going
fast or slow

this day will show
what we never see
watching us go
never letting us be

it's big brother
he alive and well
waiting for another
story to tell

some mysteries sealed
caught on the frame
all is revealed
end of the game

don't handcuff us yet
we haven't seen all
our lives are not over
we are having a ball

watch from the start
there's much you won't see
what lives in our hearts
will keep us free

cameras let us be
to freely wander
so you can see
our wild blue yonder

Earthlings PDN

Great to finally see a piece about Richard Kalvar in this month's PDN. A great photographer, but doesn't seem to be a guy who tries to draw attention to himself. Just works. And, figured out a way to live in Paris.

Fact

"Any wedding photo can be made stronger by photoshopping a unicorn in the background."

Public Transport

I was wondering why none of the candidates have mentioned anything about public or mass transit.
When you consider that Americans use 40% of the gasoline supply, based on many factors, one of which is the size of the vehicles we drive, you wonder how public transportation could not be more of a campaign issue.
I would say that this summer we will regularly see $4.00 gas, and probably $5.00 near the interstate network.
There are a select few people making never-before-seen amounts of money off of oil instability, but we have also been paying artificially low gas prices for the last 50 years.
The rest of the world has been paying these prices for decades, so I think it is perhaps our time to join them.

Ze Film and Ze T

This is the first time, I think, that the Mighty T has made the blog. Long overdue. A fantastic kid. And her dog is cool too.

Near Home

Checkin in from the Alien Ranch

A poem from mom....




Poets need to write about happy days

So I will write about mine

Perhaps the carefree days of my childhood

Swimming all Summer at the municipal pool

Playing kick the can, arrow and hopscotch

With the neighborhood kids until dark

Having a fox terrier sleep on my bed

Reminding me of my mothers tender touch

Putting rolled blankets around my head on cold Winter nights

So the snow that came in around the bedroom windows

Would not fall on my head

The fun hunting and fishing with my dad

Eating raw vegetables in his garden

Keeping him from snoring during church

Visiting grandma and grandpa every Sunday

Playing with my sisters in their front yard

Eating apples that exploded with juice

From the orchard behind their small Ohio farm house

Gathering papaws in the woods nearby along the river

With my dad on warm, lazy Summer days

Playing at the cemetery where grandpa trimmed all the shrubbery

Making arches over my head and fences

Playing hide and go seek behind headstones

Going to the farm next door to gather eggs

Family reunions at the schoolhouse in a small town

Because there were so many of us

Tables of homemade food stretching down the hallways

Satisfying hungry eyes and filling empty stomachs

Cousins playing basketball in the school gymn

Walking to the Princess movie theater uptown

To see Roy Rodgers, Dale Evans and Trigger

Stopping at the soda fountain after school

For a chocolate coke or green river

Remembering my first high school boyfriend

Dancing with him at the prom

Sitting in detention during my lunch hour

Having skipped school to go shopping with friends

Marching in the band at football games

Going of to college

Kept in place by a loving family

Creating wonderful, happy memories

That have held me for a lifetime

I am grateful for these happy days

Orange County Love

More Recent Snaps

Snaps

Some recent snaps.

Checkin in from the Alien Ranch

Mom and dog....just a typical day. This explains a lot.......


Gypsy, my 9 year old English Pointer, and I watched the sunrise through the lacy leaves of the trees in the woods. For some reason we felt this would be an unusual day. The branches looked black against the orange glow of the first light. It was very still. There was a mysterious chill in the air that made the steam slithering up from my mug of expresso visable. Ruben, the black and brown, long haired dachshund that lives next door was barking. Why didn't the little, yellow school bus come today? Why were the birds not singing? The Girls, two donkeys who live nextdoor, were making a strange screaming sound. We scanned the feeding area with our morning eyes looking for visitors? The only thing moving was the sunlight as it wrought ghost like figures across the floor of the woods. Where were all our visitors? Why was Gypsy digging holes and burying things? Why did I have a sense of impending doom?
We shook off these uncommon events of the day, and decided to do some outside work. The previous owners had left a huge pile of beautiful rocks. Many I could just pick up and move, the rest I would move with my new dolly. The cairns I would build with them, would mark the perimeter of our driveway, our flower beds and our alien self parking area. Gloves on my hands, pulling the dolly behind me, I headed for the rock pile. As I lifted the rocks, small critters scurried for a deeper spot to hide. It wasn't long before I was uncovering scorpions, centipedes and snakes. All of them were acting strangely. I tried to build some cairns and couldn't because something was disturbing my ability to balance them. I decided to take a break and sit on the cabin porch with Gypsy. We noticed how different the clouds looked today. They were very unusual. Then, off to the southwest we noticed a series of very mysterious looking clouds. They resembled the cap on a mushroom. They were white, but, looked like they had a dark gray center. They were all sizes, but, they kept the cap like shape. It occured to us they looked like space ships. Then, we decided they were space ships, disguised to look like clouds. They were probably on a secret, surveilance mission. Hiding in the clouds, they would not be noticed except by those of us who look for them. Perfect. As we pondered this, we decided there was a chance one might land here at the Alien Ranch. Gypsy and I watched and listened, but, the cloud shrouded ships drifted on by. Perhaps, they would return another time. Perhaps, they would only land in the cover of darkness. Gypsy hurriedly buried all of her chew bones and checked to be sure the gate to her cedar post, rabbit fence was securely locked. She wondered if they would bring dogs with them? She hoped they would not bring cats. Rabbits and squirrels would be be fine. She stayed close to me for the rest of the day. As the sun was setting, she was in the cabin securing her toys and food dish. It was not that she was worried that aliens might arrive after dark, she just wanted to be prepared. She told me she thought if they came to the cabin they would be nice and bring her some of her favorite biscuits. She said they might even bring her chickens to chase, like the ones our neighbor Joe has in his yard. I noticed as she crawled into her pink, sheepskin lined bed, on her navy, blue leather sofa, she left one ear uncovered. She slept with her paws over her eyes. She wondered if tonight, here at the cabin, the visitors in the woods would be more exciting than the visitors in her dreams. As we drifted off to sleep in the eerie, dark quiet of our woods, we listen for the unknown sounds space ships make when landing and for the rustling of small feet through the fallen leaves on the floor of the woods. Are we alone? Probably not. Here at the Alien Ranch we are watching, waiting a listening, not for if they come, but, when.

Behind The Curtain Three

It's Official, It Is All Downhill From Here

I was just asked to moderate a panel on photojournalism, which in my mind is the official announcement that I have reached Middle Age.
It's all downhill from here.

How Did I Get Here?

Movie Review: No Country For Old Men

Get in the car, right now, drive to the cinema and see it. I had not been to the cinema in a long, long time, and I have to say, this was the perfect picture to see.

Behind The Curtain Two