Tuesday, September 26, 2017
I woke up on a Sunday 2 weekends ago to find everything covered in a think layer of fog. I ran out the door with my camera in hand - I was so excited to go photograph. I could literally feel the adrenaline coursing through me. Well, and Stumptown coffee. It was quite the combination, I'm fairly certain I moved at warp speed.
Out where I live there is lots of wide open land. Most of it is farm land, and even better: apple orchards. I love how gnarled the branches of an apple tree are - I always say that they remind me of a Tim Burton movie. Anyway, I stopped at the side of the road to photograph the orchard pictured here. I was shooting, and it was not lost on me how eerie it was. Suddenly, at the top of the row of trees, right on the horizon line, a car started. I had no idea a person was up there, but I could see the faint glow of their tail lights in the fog. I prayed my photos of this turned out, and they did! The lights are hard to see in a small digital file, and were invisible on my contact sheet, but they're there. I have a dream of making a mural print of this, I want to see it BIG.
The moral of the story is: get up super early in the morning and shoot in the fog. But be fast, that fog goes away quickly.
Wednesday, September 13, 2017
Just over a year ago I took a trip to Wisconsin with a few members of my family. We went by my request so that I could see where my grandfather, Pershing, grew up. Pershing was just about to turn 98 (he turned 99 at the end of this August), and I felt like I needed to seize the opportunity to have him provide the tour before it passed me by.
Pershing is nothing if not a man of planning. He had a strict schedule, down to minutes, of places to visit, family members to meet, and the occasional nap time, as well. I can say that I didn't get to photograph as much as I would have liked to if I was going at my own pace, but I did the best I could with what was in front of me. I haven't done much with these negatives since our trip, and I think that is partly because it all feels unfinished. I have dreams of getting back someday, taking back roads, and seeing things in different seasons. Until then, I will work with what I have.
I don't remember a lot of the details off the top of my head about locations or names, but this is a church Pershing went to as he was growing up. We happened to show up in the middle of their Sunday morning service, so we hung around outside. I should mention that this is more or less in the middle of nowhere. It's the kind of rural town where the weekly social activity is going to church on Sundays. The church is rather old, but you can see where it has been modernized and built onto over the years. I love the oddly contemporary alternative to traditional stained glass windows in the vestibule.
Wednesday, September 6, 2017
Some roses in Arlington, MA. I'm always trying to find new roads to take, new neighborhoods to pass through, or new towns to see. It's part of the constant quest to find things to photograph. Lately I've been trying to push myself out of my comfort zone, and I suppose photographing flowers counts for that. I tried shooting some industrial buildings a few weeks ago, and while I found the subject aesthetically pleasing, I felt absolutely nothing about the film once I developed it. In discussing this with a friend, I decided that my preferred aesthetic is "banal romanticism". I just need to feel something about what I'm shooting, I suppose - to have a connection on some sort of emotional or psychological level.
Saturday, August 26, 2017
As the summer nears its end, Elliott will soon be returning to school. I know there are still plenty of ice cream eating days ahead of us until everything comes to a halt for winter, but it's hard to not notice the crispness in the air lately. Last weekend, on a particularly hot day, an ice cream truck from Juniper Farms in Hudson (with a driver that kids apparently call Zeus - I pray that is his real name) came by the playground we were at. You could see the excitement on the kids' faces as soon as they heard that music. That music, and that feeling, are things I have really distinct memories of from my childhood, and I love that they seemingly haven't changed for decades.
