Deceased Photographs

I used to love the thought of this photograph, but somewhere along my way it left me standing in the dark.

Life is so huge and so small. Is this the beginning or the end? Are we awake or just dreaming fast in flight? I have a photograph etched in the marrow of my body and soul. I was flying so high. I was filled with the certainty of my youth skipping across the slipstream of life when she took me with her sight, her green eyes dancing in the late October night back in 78'. Two children were held tight in the preflight position of their life, questioning their human rights. Thinking back now, I remember how we ran together through our lives restless gates, and I remember how our bodies came together like roots to the earth. Some may say this was the result of God's grace and light, or perhaps it was a prelude to a charmed life. We were bound like the shore line to the sea, so close, yet so far. We stood at our precipice drawn together tight. We lived in a home spun cocoon, through so many moments of time we dwelled in life's womb. Inevitably though, the force of life took us from behind. Even though we willed with our entire might, reality had its way with us, diminishing our pledged rights, and we went crashing with all our human fright into the superimposed night.

What? You say you found this photograph and you have been using it for a cocktail napkin?

The Taoist Maniac

Who were the guys that left the bread crumbs on the ground to help find their way home? Whoever they were, I bet they wish they had some of this Spanish Tapas instead of a bag of crumbs.

Anyway, I got to thinking the other day (an activity that normally leads to a state of despondency) that maybe the pictures we take might be left behind to help someone find their way home. Who knows? Maybe if I look close enough, I might find my own way home. In some strange way, photography reminds me that the past is my companion not my adversary, and the future is something I can help shape not run from. Normally "the state of the nation" just makes me want to bury my head in a hole, but taking photographs can be an empowering experience. I feel like capturing moments of time gives me something permanent to hold onto-life moves so fast now. Maybe life moves at the same pace it always has, and its me that has slowed down. When I take pictures I feel in sync with life. I'm not pushing or pulling. I think the Taoist philosophers called this the art of non-action. I wish I new how to live life the way I take pictures. Generally speaking, I'm a pusher and a puller. You might say I'm a crazed maniac, but a gentle maniac-I promise.

Maybe I'm Lost?

Spanish tapas late night.

Still Getting Longer

Spanish tapas in the early evening.

The Long Road Home

Spanish tapas in the afternoon.

The Long Road Home

Spanish tapas in the morning. Google Susan Goldman for more food photographs.

Nadar 1856

"Photography is a marvelous discovery, a science that has attracted the greatest intellects, an art that excites the most astute minds - and one that can be practiced by any imbecile."

The Zen of Photography

Zenographer - Leon's made-up word that refers to the act of artistic and spiritual enlightenment through the meditative practice of image making. I hope my image making journey is more fruitful than my spiritual journey. I do love dried fruit. Maybe I'm more spiritual than I think.

Off The Grid

I'm thinking she doesn't have a refrigerator?

Peruvian Women Meet A Chorus Line.

Peru is sponsoring an OFF, OFF broadway rendition of A Chorus Line.

The Old Johnny Quest Cartoon Series

I just found Hoji hiding high in the Himalayas . He can't find Dr. Quest.

Peru Needs A Super Hero Too

I can leap tall buildings in a single bound!

Photography is much like life. Understanding it takes a lot of time fruitlessly fumbling in the dark. Life certainly contains its share of latent images--some we drag out into the light and others we bury deep in darkness. In photography, as in life, we dance between the night and the day time light. If we are fortunate, we finish with a picture we don't mind showing someone. What? You only take digital photos? Just shut your pie hole. Digital photography doesn't work with this analogy.

What the hell does this have to do with my posted photograph? Answer: absolutely nothing. It was probably a digital photo.

Walter Rosenblum

Three Children on Swings is one image of a much larger project called "Pitt Street Series" by Walter Rosenblum. He shot this series of pictures in New York city, 1938. The moment really came together well in this photograph. The thought young and fun just entered my mind. What is it about a swing set that makes us want to test its/our outer limits? As young children, maybe it's our first chance to dare fate, I'm not sure. Why do we always want to swing higher than all the other kids? This shot takes me back to "the beginning." Doesn't everyone remember their first swing set?" What? you say you never had a swing set? Frown.

Sure, we could talk about everything that makes this picture a technical success (composition, print quality, content, etc), but we would be doing a huge disservice to a beautiful moment suspended in time. Yes, an exceptional photograph is comprised of these attributes, but ultimately it must entice us emotionally. Can we appreciate and enjoy a photograph that doesn't include an emotional facet? Yes, without doubt, but a picture without an emotional connection never really transcends its inherent two dimensional existence. Or, maybe I'm just a big stupid blowhard who just turned 42 years old. This picture speaks to a simpler time in our lives - a time when we could swing high with abandon.

Amy Stein

I found myself aimlessly driving through the country last Monday in an attempt to find the one "thing" that no one else ever photographed, or possibly to think of the one idea that has never been explored photographically. What? Ok, so I never actually took any pictures. Anyway, as I was driving, and not taking any pictures, I started to think about Amy Stein and her series of photos about people stranded on the side of the road who needed help. She goes all over the country, rents a car, and drives around searching for people stranded on the road to photograph. I humorously started to think about parking my car on the side of the road with the hood up, and snapping pictures of anyone who actually stopped to see if I needed help. Maybe Amy Stein would show up? An hour or so later, I wound up at a book store perusing the magazine racks, I look down, and I find this picture (Fast Food, 2007 ) by Amy Stein on the cover of Orion Magazine.

A box of Wendys french fries and a lonely burger bun lay in the foreground. The American flag stands tall in the background, and in the middle six birds swirl in a circle in the parking lot of a Perkins restaurant. The subtext in the title of this magazine reads: nature/culture/place. What? What does all this mean? Judging from the subtext of this magazine title, I'm thinking that we are a fast food, consumer nation that feeds on itself like annoying little stank creatures. The American flag, the symbol of a nation with potential limited only by our shortsightedness, waves lethargically in the bleak winter cold. Or, maybe someone just stopped to feed the birds.

Check out Amy Steins Domesticated series of photos at Harvard University's Museum of Natural History, January 21-March 19, 2010.

Rediscovering Pete Turner

John Rohrbach of Color Magazine writes that as a child Pete Turner used the money he won playing gin rummy with his fathers musician friends to buy colorful postage stamps. What is it with photographers? I recently read that Minor White collected thousands of post cards. In Fact, Minor White would sometimes mail his friends post cards during his travels and then demand that his friends return the post cards after they were read.

Anyway, I'm just a young grasshopper in the world of photography, but when I came across John Rohrbachs' article, Pete Turner: The Doctor No of Color, I was smitten. Did someone say color? Turner pimps color like it's nobodies business. And I love it! Check out this photograph taken in 1970 titled Push. Color, form, and content merge to create one hell of a seamless photograph. Pete Turner is a zen master of color. He mixes color like a hip hop DJ spins his rhythm and jive. Yes, it's loud and in your face, and it's undeniably brilliant.

blog, blog, blog.

blog, blog, blog