Posts Tagged ‘He’s Mr. Vain’

Photo Booth 2

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If you were at the party and haven’t gotten a link to the photos yet let me know and I’ll send it to you.  And most people haven’t seen it because I’ve been bad about sending it out.


Another Day on the Job, III

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Another Day on the Job, II

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This is what I wore to work Saturday night. Note the always sexy fanny pack. It’s hot, oh yeah baby, hot. Also, the farmer’s tan, it’s hard work to get that strong of a farmer’s tan.

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More images from this event will follow…when I have time.


I Live a Hard Life

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2nd, I Hate to Say It, But It’s What I Was Hoping for

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I knew 2nd was the best I could do. I don’t like 2nd, but in this case there was no chance for first. Everyone in the state who cared knew who was going to get first, it was a forgone conclusion.

Oh yeah, what am I talking about? Yeah, that detail. The IPPA (Illinois Press Photographers Association) iBOP (Illinois Best of Photojournalism) awards for 2007. If you are a photojournalist in Illinois, this is the contest you enter. This is where you get recognized by your peers.

First place this year for Feature Picture Story was going to go to Scott Strazzante. He did a piece about 10 years back on a farm that was being sold and turned into a sub-division. This year he did a follow up piece on that sub-division. The result is a series of diptychs, “Echos of the Past”, that is simply amazing. They are well thought out, conceptual, poignant, informative and non-judgmental. Some of the best PJ work I’ve seen in a long while. It’s also been widely talked about amongst journalists, photojournalists, photographers, not to mention published in the Chicago Tribune (Scott’s employeer) and National Geographic, just to name two. It will in a few years make a great book. I’ll buy one, no doubts.

So, suffice it to say, getting first for Feature Picture Story was out. The competition in this category was for 2nd (or as I prefer to call it, first loser). I got 2nd with the Summer Love series (you know, the underwater images). I’m pretty good with that. I haven’t had a chance to see the other pieces that placed yet. I didn’t get a chance to go watch the judging this year as it was done down state. But if this year is similar to previous years, it means I did some good work, this tends to be a strong category.

Also for one of the individual images from the Summer Love series I got 3rd place in Pictorial.

All and all, a pretty good day.

I look forward to seeing the winners in all the other categories when they get put online. You can see the list at least here. Congrats to all the winners. I personally look forward to enjoying the fruits of your labor, and thanks for sharing, especially, thanks for sharing.


Another Night Out

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The attached imagery was inspired by a night at a Blackhawks game with Zeepdoggie and The Gringo, during which we hung out with Billy “Kick em’ in the Neck” and his brother Dave, who I hit in the nuts with a folding chair.

When I sum it up in a sentence…it sounds worse than it actually was.


You Brought a Knife…

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You brought a knife to an Axe fight?

The problem with modernity, is that everyone is so safety conscious. I used to be able to walk down the streets of town, and find someone, at least one someone, some times a few, who would be willing to engage in a perfectly fun and friendly axe fight.

Not anymore. No one axe fights. It’s too dangerous.

Wussies.


Dreaming

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Why a picture of a building? Yeah, I take lots of photos of buildings, this building though I’ve dreamed about for about 13 years now.

I was first in this building back when I was assisting for a magazine and we were doing an in-house ad, “these are the people that read this mag!” Yeah, whatever.

It’s an old CTA substation up by DePaul. I was a block away for a shoot today and just happened to be walking by it. There are three buildings of it’s design in Chicago-land. This one, which is owned by a well known sculptor. Another in Oak Park, which I’ve also been in, humorously enough, which is owned by another well known artist and occasional sculptor. (Both work a lot in metals, hmm.) The third is on the south side somewhere and is apparently an industrial business of some sort. Metal work I believe. (hmm…)

Why do I love these buildings? Good question, thanks for asking. Starting from the front, if you go back to between the first and second window, that portion of the building is living space. 3 floors of pretty good size living space. The rest of the building is wide open. It’s an empty space. It also does have rails between the upper and lower sets of windows which hold an industrial strength winch, for lifting and moving CTA “L” cars.

If/when I get one of these buildings, I’m not entirely sure what I’d do with it. I might turn the open space into a giant studio space, it would rock. More likely, I’d turn it into a forest. Plant a couple of trees, get some birds, a few animals, and have my own Eden in the city. I always want to escape the city and get to the woods, but it’s hard to find the time. Imagine just coming home to it. It’s a large enough and well enough lit space to hold at least 3 large trees and some smaller foliage. Maybe a little pool, by little like 15 feet round with a stream.

And remember that industrial winch on rails? Imagine using the bracing of that, removing the hardware, putting in a sheet metal floor with small holes punched in, so you could see below you, and were able to look out over the forest. That would be my main living space. A bed, a bathroom (bathroom, no doors, just curved semi-opaque glass) and a little relaxation area. All open. Just my tree house above my forest in the city.

I dream of that space, I have for a long time, I always will. The details of getting there I just don’t know, but it’s a dream, I may find a way, but part of the joy is in having the dream.

Okay, so of my three “big” dreams, that’s number two. Let me give you a run down on one and three also.

Three is the least likely. Quit everything, move to Hawaii, surf in the morning, take pretty pictures of nothing meaningful in the late afternoon. Just escape the rat race, escape responsibility. It’s my escapist, won’t happen, and wouldn’t want it to happen dream, but it gets me through those tough days.

My number one dream, I’m pretty sure I can pull off. It’s going to be a few years, but I’ve got the initial plan, it’s just doing some foot work, and when I decide to do it, which I get closer to every year, I can get everything together in under a year.

I’m going to get myself a canoe, a bunch of supplies, cameras, solar cells, tent, sleeping bag, all that good stuff, and I’m going to canoe the Mississippi-Missouri-Jefferson. It’s a little under 4,000 miles. I figure it will take 9 to 18 months. I’m not going to worry about just doing it. I’m going to use it as a conduit to explore the country and understand myself. I’ll blog the whole thing of course (it has some good book potential, and blogging might be able to provide me with a modest income while doing it, not to mention I’ll need to be journaling in some fashion, so why not do it publicly). I’ll probably make it a largely one way communication though, only one person with my email address, no incoming cell phone, all that good stuff. I’ll occasionally invite a friend to join me for a week, but not many, and not often. Mostly, I just want to meet the people on the central artery of this country. Talk to them, get to know them, document the river. The escapist aspect has been noticed also.

It’s a very doable dream, not easy, but definitely doable. The key is going to be getting to a point where I have nothing, or little, to leave behind. I’m not saying that is a good thing, but the closer I get to there, the more I see this as a viable option. I’d put 2 to 1 odds that I do it, someday. My best guess would be five years.

I’ve had a lot of serious life lately, and that’s fine, the last year has been wonderful, and horrible. If nothing else it’s been meaningful, and I wouldn’t give it back for anything. On the other hand, it has been hard, some days very hard. So I do what many people do, I escape into my dreams sometimes. Maybe I see my dreams as being a little bit more doable than most though (outside of my moving to Mars dream, that’s really unlikely.) I guess I understand having to do stuff in life, and I support it, but maybe those dreams I have, the dreams you have, maybe I just see, believe, they can be lived, if we want to live them. Saying that makes me want to leave next week, but I’ve got a few more good years, then I’ll be gone, and why not? I always wonder, why not live your dreams? Nothing stops us but us, and a strong enough desire to fulfill the dream.


Flight and Falling

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The pics have nothing to do with the words. I don’t care. The pics are from Ameba’s current piece, “On the Edge” at the Ruth Page Center for the Arts.

I have no idea any more. I’ve totally lost any concept of if I’m flying or if I’m falling, as far as I can tell, there is no difference between the two. I’m overwhelmed on almost every side of life. I can’t handle it, and I love it. The contradictions in my life are constant, and thorough. I’m totally lost, and I just can’t stop myself from continuing to go, further and further. Reality is becoming a distant memory, unless where I’m at right now is reality, which I find hard to believe, but how would I know?

I increasingly see my life in terms of “Apocalypse Now”. It’s my all time favorite movie. It describes my life. Surreality every where, all sides. And I just keep getting pulled up river, pulled by some force I don’t understand. I don’t know who I am, both in terms of which character I would most resemble (I can make arguments for the Chief, Lance, and the photojournalist, but I want to be Kurtz.) and I just don’t know if I know who I am anymore. I’ve chosen to let go, or remake so many parts of me in the last year, it’s amazing, I’m happier, I’m a better person, a better human, but I’m not sure who I am, or where I am. This isn’t a bad thing, if anything, it’s a good thing. I’m just totally lost on the river. Whatever it is, it works, but it’s all such a swirl.








I’m Too Tired…

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It’s been go, go, and even more go for weeks now. I’m going to collapse at some point, in every way. I need a few things to recharge, some will happen, some are in the works, others, well, you know, that’s just life. Don’t get me wrong, it’s great. It’s nothing but shoot, hang with awesome people, and do things I love to do, but I need to collapse also. Tomorrow I want to go hang at the planetarium and watch the eclipse. I hope that will help me recharge spiritually a little. A little here, a little there. It’s important to stay somewhat fresh, sparky, to be able to work your best. My work isn’t suffering…yet. (btw – “yet” is the best word in the whole of the English language. Filled with either infinite hope and possibility, or portending doom and destruction, and often both.) Anyway, off my whining.

Few quick items. I got to see (meaning shoot) my favorite-ist tap dance company (favorite-ist because they’re good at what they do, and they are unreasonably kind to me. I got a X-mas present. That’s so cool.) last weekend with my favorite-ist singer. Talk about a set-up for good, but still…The review is supposed to be in the Trib soon. If it goes along with my review, get your tickets today. No seriously, today. The show, especially the first “act” is a sight to behold and hear. I’m going to try to sit and watch this one again, I really, really want to, I should shortly have everything lined up, assuming some generosity from the lovely ladies (and Mark and Phil) and that I can get the night off of work, which requires two basketball teams to lose, which they should do, but if they don’t, I’m going to be real bummed. Not that Bloomington-Normal ain’t fun during spring break, but really, just shoot me now. It would sadden me to not be able to see this show again. But, if all goes well, I will, and I get to take a good friend. (The photos aren’t quite what I’d like, are they ever?, but just trust me when I say it’s a show worth seeing.)

Also, in the world of the weird. I’m on that YouTube thingy. Well, not me really, a bunch of us. It’s an overview shot of the Lakeview Polar Bear event. I’m the one with the camera looking like a fool, a fool in need of a tan. It’s just nice every once and a while to say, “Hey, there’s me! I did it too!” as usually I’m the one on the other side, and happier that way, but every once and a while.

Anyhow, back to work…always, back to work…


Another Day on the Job

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My current long-term project may be very serious in nature, and have very serious moments, more serious than I like to think about, it has it’s levity as well. It was Valentine’s Day, I had two beautiful women telling me that I have to wear this and that accessory. Who am I to deny two beautiful, wonderful, joyous women? Not to mention, all the ladies at facility I was at, and there were many, were flirting with me all day long. (I did dress like this all day, and I did fight them, a little, about putting it on in the first place, but their beauty over-powered me.)


To the two beautiful woman who made me wear this pimp hat, well done, and thank you.


Self-portraits: Part One

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Quick note, when I do this “Part One” routine, do I ever do a “Part Two” or do I just get distracted too quick? Ah well…

Lately I’ve been taking a lot of self-portraits, every few weeks I do a session. I find I’m enjoying it, and more importantly, it’s helping me out. It’s my therapy session. I get in front of the camera, and I have to explore where I’m at. No one else matters at that point in time, it’s just me and the camera. Sometimes it’s a bit surprising to see what comes out.

My latest session, a few days ago, I was expecting to be a bit more…down, not depressing, but emotionally exhausted. I had spent Thursday watching, documenting a difficult situation, watching a good person get made to feel bad, really bad, but to get healthy. By the time I left her for the day, I was done, cooked, empty. Don’t get me wrong, if she needed more from me, if the story needed more from me, I would have done it, in a heart beat, but outside of that, I was done.

So on Friday night I decided to take some self-portraits. I needed it. It’s my version of sitting in the psychiatrist’s coach. I wanted to play with the smoke machines I bought back around Halloween, but they never quite worked out, which was okay in the end. The self-portrait is, for me, a very organic process. I go in with an idea, but I never quite come out with what I was expecting, and that’s good. I like letting the situation evolve, I feel that it lets my feelings rise to the top, or it at least gives them the best chance to rise.

In the end the photos were serious, but not morose, like I was expecting. Part of that was the lighting scheme I chose for the evening. Strong highlights don’t lend to depressing imagery, but I’m pretty sure if I wanted to, I could’ve got it there, but I didn’t take it there. And this is why I love the self-portrait, because it helped me realize something, I had been refilled, a little, been picked up. (though I’m a little up in the air as what they are emotionally, maybe just confused, unsure, all over the place, god knows, that would be believable considering life of late.)

After I had left Thursday night, and I was done, I decided to go out. I had actually already planned on going out, but I got out later than planned and I had to ditch on a friend (sorry). Another friend of mine was singing at a local bar and I figured I had to go support her, it was all of a ten minute walk from my home, not to mention, I knew I’d need the pick-me up. So I listened to some good singing, another buddy of mine, Jimbo, The Great and Wonderful Jimmy, (a better friend can’t be asked for in this world. He’s a unique character, in oh so many ways, but he’ll always step up for a friend.) So I hung out, talked to him, which was all kinds of good. Followed that up with an excellent conversation with the singer after the show.

And this is the part that the self-portraits helped me realize, that conversation, it was exactly what I needed at that point in time, and I never knew it. Even afterwards, I didn’t realize for a few days. She thinks we talked and I helped her out and was kind to her, and I hope I was and I hope I could help her, but what was less obvious, was how much it helped me. Maybe I would have come to this realiztion on my own otherwise, but the self-portraits helped me see I wasn’t where I expected myself to be emotionally, and to see the reason.

Personally, I’m a fan of self-portrait sessions for everyone on a regular basis, but I’m biased also. You got a cellphone, why not? If nothing else, who sees it besides you?

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Next time on “Pigs In Spaaaaccceee…..”, oops, I mean next time in the reasoning of self-portraits. The growth of the self-portrait in the new millennium and how it will be seen as a defining art form at the start of the millennium. Also, the internet, how the entire world is now open to us, and yet we can now be so much more self-obsessed at the same time. (yeah, I include myself sadly enough.)


Nothing Much to Add…Yet

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There is something cathartic about setting up a camera, and just letting it take pictures. No purpose, no point, no reason, just letting it go, and seeing what appears. (I really didn’t plan on shooting till 3am. Damn.)


No School Like the Old School

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I believe in looking back only as much as it teaches about the present and the future. What’s done is done, money spent is gone, what investment can I make in the future?

So hence you’ll rarely, read probably never, see images older than these, unless you are at my house rifling through boxes, which either means I’m sleeping with you or I’m dead. So, excluding those two, these are about as old as you’ll ever see. (And the only reason you’re seeing these is because I had to do some copy work as a favor for a friend, so since it was set-up I figured I’d shot these at the same time.)


These two images are part of a series of six or seven images, the others I need to find, they’re in a tube somewhere, of self-portraits. I seem to be a lot of self-portraits lately, so this is a kind of compare and contrast. These images are from when I was 20, in college at U Iowa (Go Hawkeyes!) and very depressed.

I was done, I was cooked, it was time to leave the oven. Believe it or not, I didn’t party enough, I was working too hard and just spiraled down and down. Sucked at the time, looking back at the images now, worth it though. These have been some of my favorite images of mine for years.

I look forward to making better images than these, as challenging at it will be to accomplish.


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On a completely different note, Seagrove tea, Wow. Just wonderful, a tint of orange I think, but whatever, it’s delicious. My whole body just relaxes drinking this stuff. And the smell while you’re brewing it, yummy. I love yummy.

I feel good.


He’s Mr. Vain, Part Deux

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So I got my hair done again by Lexi, The Great and Everlasting Goddess of Hair. I now have a dark red streak. It’s a bit…strange, but I think I’m going to have fun with it. So far reviews have gone reasonably well (also known as, several women and gay men have said good things about my hair.)

Lexi recommended I head straight out to the bar after getting my hair done, to go pick-up ladies. Alas, meeting people in bars is just about my definition of Hell on Earth, right next to parties where I know at best a few people. I’d rather be shot, and I’m not sure if that’s hyperbole or not either.

So what’s the best thing I can do with new hair? Make some self-portraits of course.

It’s funny, about a year back I had been considering doing a fairly large self-portrait project. It was going to be my break-up project. All my major break-ups have a project, and they tend to be some of my best projects. I don’t know if that’s good or bad, but it is. It was going to involve each image having a large number of images combined to make one image of my face. Each of the smaller pieces of the larger was going to be slightly different and help create a somewhat torn and fractured portrait. It’s an idea that had some legs to it, I still think it does. It never happened. I found, or more accurately it found me, another project, a project that was so much better and expressed my break-up in a way I never anticipated, and helped me see it more clearly, see me more clearly, and helped me grow. The new project was about excitement, joy and freedom and the self-portrait project was about pain. The joyous project won. Great.

But I’m still me, and sometimes, as with all visual artists, I think, I like to do self-portraits. What’s interesting is what the self-portrait reveals. I spend a lot of time analyzing myself, and the world in general (read, sitting in traffic). What I find in the self-portrait tells me some great things about myself that I don’t find by just thinking.

When I do these I set-up the camera and the lights, do some testing and go. And when I say “Go” I mean “Go”. Have the camera take a new photo every two seconds for 50 continuous frames, maybe more. It’s not enough time to think, just act, just release. And that’s the key, sometimes items must be thought out, thought through, but sometimes, just letting go, and flying, feeling, says everything that needs to be said. Thought gets in the way of feeling some days.

So apparently, I’m not in all that serious of place, though part of me wonders if I’m also partially in a place where I can’t face myself. Only time will tell which of those is true, but currently I prefer the not being in a serious place theory. It feels…good.

This kind of self-examination is also why I love (and for other reasons loathe) the growth of the cell-phone camera. Sure I may do self-portraits, and I may set-up a bunch of stuff to do it, hell, I can, so why not? But people everywhere are taking self-portraits all the time now, so much more than at probably any point in history. And well I may use them partially to self-analyze because I’ve been taught to, I’m hoping others use them to do the same, even if not so pointedly or seriously as I do.

Nothing wrong with a little more self-reflection in this world. And for me, I’ll just enjoy being ridiculous human being.


I So Belong in Journalism

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I suggested that I write a story about the Mitchell Elementary School Science Fair. This was also so I could lock the time into my schedule and be a judge, because on my list of “Dreams I’ve had since I was twelve” being a science fair judge was still not checked off.

So yesterday I went and did the judging. I grinned the whole way home. A grin the size of Jersey.

All I had to do was write the story.

Now, I started this blog, and continue this blog to help me develop a better writing style, something more, “Me”. And I think it’s helping in that goal. I think I also need to write more story style bits now.

Around 9pm or so I get started. I stall, I procasitnate, I watch a Star Trek Voyager, I watch Star Trek Deep Space Nine, I decide not to watch a movie, because that would be gratitious, I wander around the house looking at the photos on my walls instead having imagenary conversations, check Facebook about 30 times. About 3am I decide I need to sleep. I’ve transcribed some quotes from my tape recorder by this point, and written two sentences. The piece needs to be out around 8 or 9am. Set my alarm clock for 5:30am. In my world 2 hours of sleep is perfectly acceptable, and depressingly normal.

Get up at 6am. Check Facebook, you know, for all the stuff my 10 friends might have done between 3 and 6am. Read the newspaper, online of course. Check Facebook again, for all the things my 10 friends might have done between 6 and 7am. I’ve worked on writing the article at this point, a little here, a little there, but I can’t find the flow, the groove. Somewhere around 7:30, maybe 7:45am, I find the groove, write the whole thing in about 30 minutes. Edit the photos, and done. It’s not great, but not horrible, and hopefully my editor will bring it up to good.

Come on Tim, I’m counting on you.

Massive procrastination is really required to work in journalism. It always gets done, just barely.


Update on My Pushiness and the Joy of Statcounting

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So I either reacted to quickly, which is a trait, I should point out, that I’m not known for, really, never done it before, not a once, I’m a calm pond in a tumultuous ocean. Yep, that’s me, calm and cool. (okay, enough self-mockery.) Or someone is using RSS feeds.

So last evening I mentioned some artistic disagreements I had with a performer. Okay, so today some photos were added. Cool.

Now this is where it gets interesting to me, I stat track. I’ve always been a huge fan of having information and statistics as to what is occurring in whatever I do. In this day and age, information really is power, and I want to know how many people are reading my rambling. That, and I’m self-obsessed, or as I like to like to say, “I’m deeply and dearly loved (mumble by me mumble.)” Or, you can go with, “You can’t love and be loved till you learn to love yourself.” Though the jokes that follow that statement, well, they last for days, and days, and days.

For those of you who aren’t geeks, and let’s be honest, geeks rule. Basically what happens is there is a little bit of code made by a company, StatCounter, in all my pages and sites which tell me how many people are visiting, plus some other little tidbits. The “other little tidbits” are pretty interesting though, and really not little.

Some are things that are quite useful, like your monitor resolution. Knowing this helps me make better layout decisions in the future for my web site and blog for better viewing. Cool beans.

I also know what pages get visited most often. (Much to my surprise on my website my Bed Series (warning, my naked butt) is actually kind of popular. Hmmm, wouldn’t have guessed, but good, I like that series too.)

I know how people get to my sites. (Shout out to old Blood & Thunder and Zeepie.) If people show up via search terms I know which terms. (Josh Hawkins is the most popular, shocker, but me and Joshua Hawkins are always duking it out for #1 on Google. FYI – Joshua, as far as I can tell, interesting. An “intercessory missionary” out of the International House of Prayer (IHOP, as long as he sees the humor in that and is passionate about what he does, I think we’d get along.))

On the cool to know, and not really revealing most of the time but kind of in my case side, I also know where people are located who are checking out my site, or at least where there ISP is located. (Everyone give a big wave to Ann Arbor Michigan, Dallas Texas and Zagreb Croatia. Yeah, I’m not sure who is in Zagreb, but I’m all about meeting new people, so, “Howdy Zagreb, good to have you. Hope to see you again.”) For those who didn’t know about this, now you do, you may also want to read here.

Okay so I have all this info, which I like, but then there are RSS feeds. By and large I don’t worry about them all that much, most people don’t know how to use them (he says to the crowd of IT professionals) and there ain’t nothing I can do about it no how.

So why do I mention all of this? Because the change in the images, the timing, I don’t know if it’s my overly quick reactions or a reaction to what I said. The stats would suggest it was unlikely the performer read any of this, but then there are RSS feeds and I believe the performer is probably fairly tech savvy. Hmmm….which is it?

At this point, I believe I need to get a life if this is what I’m thinking about. Ah well, it’s an actual sit at home day off. I also don’t like to feel pushy, or at least indirectly pushy, directly pushy is fine though. Anyhow…off to getting kids fat, because it’s better than getting me fat.

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And on a completely unrelated note, Cave of the Golden Buddha (tea), not such a huge fan. Decent, but not great, and I always want Great, with a capital “G”. But I have developed a consistent method for brewing that is working pretty well for me. 185F, as per the instructions, a quick wash of the tea in the pot. Basically poor in enough water to cover the leaves then empty. Let the leaves stand for 1:11 to let the residual water soak in and open up the leaves. Poor water in, preferably from 2-3 feet above the pot to agitate the leaves. Let stand for 2:22. Empty and drink. 2nd infusion, repeat, let stand 3:33. The third infusion I’m still working on as I don’t often do 3 infusions (36 ounces of tea right before bed, it creates issues about 2 hours later) but currently I’m letting the 3rd infusion stand for 5:55. That seems to be working pretty good. The 2nd infusion is almost universally the best tasting, sometimes by a wide margin, but this technique, especially with the pre-wash has really helped bring that first infusion much closer to the 2nd. Did I mention needing a life?


Sweaty, Bloody, Battered, Bruised and Generally Grimey

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God, I so needed this vacation. I just got done with four days at Bloody Bear Paw. (It’s what I’m calling the area I stayed in.)

Over 72 hours without another human being being seen at all. 4 days, 3 nights, over 40 miles hiked, over 100lbs in equipment and supplies carried roughly 8 miles in, and 75lbs or so carried out. 8 miles from the next human being, 8 miles of rock, river, mud, roots and nature letting me be alone.

No clocks, no time but the movement of the sun. A life about simplicity, survival, and independence from the world, from it’s pressures and cares.

Just a man alone with his thoughts. The same thoughts largely as when I went, but by the time I left, peaceful, calm and content, not angst or nervous energy, just peace. Indulgent.

Sitting on Bloody Bear Paw Rock, reading, playing harmonica (or at least learning), watching Hurricane Crick flow then retiring to the fire. Nothing amazing, just a little fire, but it feels good to make a fire from nothing more than wood pulled off the ground and the lighter in your pocket (Hey, I ain’t McGyver here. I believe in being properly equipped, or at least trying.)

Maybe I don’t need to learn anymore about how to get by on my own, I’m pretty good at it already, but it feels good, powerful, manly, (but manly is such a loaded word that it’s wrong,) to live life on my own on a more primal level.

More thoughts to come, more images to come. These are, at best, a rough start, and not the creme, not the creme by any means, but merely a humble beginning.


He’s Mr. Vain

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So tonight I was faced with the question that man (or woman) has asked since the start of time, now that I’ve had an enjoyable Friday evening (also known as grocery shopping and a movie on my tv after work was done) what should I do, and I just happen to have “fun hair” happening and a small mountain of photo equipment handy? (Everything about this entry, I should say, is about laughing at me and how it is totally allowed.)

I should also state here, Lexi is a Goddess, officially. She is now Lexi the Great and Everlasting Goddess of Hair. (BTW – I know I need to get my highlights done, and I know it’s ridiculous that I know this.)

Some day I’m going to go on about the difference between fun and happy and their minimalist relationship many days. Some day I’m also going to get a life and not hang out on Friday nights taking wacky self-portraits, but that day is not today. And I had a lot of fun and am damn happy.

And if you think this is bad, there’s another 100 or so of these that are even weirder. Which raises the question, what does a man with a small mountain of photo equipment do on a Saturday night? (And welcome to how you become legally married to do what you do.) Also, I’m replacing all my various profile photos with the one above I think, to hell with reality I say. To hell with it.

This blog used to once involve matters of journalism and photography. Oh well.


BTW – I’m going to randomly start mentioning teas because….I feel like it. Wen Shan Bao Zhong, absolutely excellent. The second steeping of it is absolutely delicious, delicious. Not to mention it’s from Formosa, and who calls it Formosa anymore, well except for the Chinese? On the other hand, I doubt drink 36 ounces of right before bed is wise. It doesn’t have much caffeine in it as far as I can tell, but that’s a lot of liquid.